John Madison walks into a post office in Liverpool, England. It's cold and there's fucking rain. After all, it's England. John checked the weather ahead of time like a well-organized gentleman, and is wearing an authentic Nazi trench coat which was a gift from his friend NAZI. It even has NAZI's signature on the armlet. John is there to drop off a special package. We see him toss a bundle of X-Bux inside of it and slap a shipping label on the top. He throws it at the limey clerk who doesn't see it coming and takes a hit to the bridge of his nose. He's and old man with fucked up teeth. After all, it's England.

Clerk: "You all right, mate? No need to throw the post in my face, alright?"

Madison: "MAIL THE FUCKING PACKAGE, BITCH!"

Clerk: "Hold on a minute! You can't just walk in here like that! Besides, what's that you're wearing? A Nazi uniform, is it?"

Madison: "Yeah, so what?"

Clerk: "It's a bit disrespectful, don't you think? Do us all a favor and throw that in the rubbish bin, mate."

Madison: "No! I'm wearing my favorite holiday winter coat. Is that a crime? Am I a criminal for trying to stay warm? So were the Nazis criminals for trying to stay warm during those battles in the frigid winter? How dare you disrespect our fallen men and women like that, and on VETERAN'S DAY!"

Clerk: "Forget it. Just fuck off, I'll ship your bloody package."

Madison: "My 'bloody' package?"

Clerk: "That's right, wanker! Your bloody fucking package!"

Madison: "You want to ship my bloody package?"

Madison reaches over the table and grabs the man by his neck! Holy shit, the queen will have your king head on a pole for this, John!

Madison: "It should be bloody then right?!"

Madison reaches into his asshole and pulls out a fucking shit-covered box cutter. Goddamn it, John! You have plenty of pockets in that trench coat, use them!

Clerk: "Let me go ya fucking bastard!"

Madison takes the box cutter, and uses his parcel as a cutting board as he slices into the postal worker's hand. You could almost say that John is going postal.

Clerk: "AAAHHH!"

John makes several lacerations across the man's hand with the turd infused blade. It's not until there is an audible rumbling coming from John's stomach.

Madison: "Oh shit..."

Clerk: "You fuckin' bastard!"

John must have drank the water back in Tijuana, or maybe he opened the floodgates when he removed the box cutter from his bum. Either way, something was triggered. John takes the package that's covered in limey blood and cuts it open. He then squats over the opened package and proceeds to take a massive shit into the box of X-Bux.

Madison: "Ahhhhh yeah..."

Clerk: "Why are you shitting in the middle of the office you bloody lunatic?!"

Once John finishes his business, he seals up the box which now contains a bundle of shit covered X-Bux. He hands it back to the clerk.

Madison: "Make sure Pest gets that box, or I'll come back."

Clerk: "Absolutely."


Yeah, just another shit covered payment for some shithead named Pest. You see, it's hard to find a reliable hitman/deliveryman around here; someone who gets shit done. But when I got a job, I call Pest, and he takes care of it. No excuses like, "sorry John, I'm not that kind of a hitman." Bullshit you aren't! I pay you lots of money and you do what I say! Whenever Pest tries to back talk me, I say "SHUT THE FUCK UP AND COMPLETE THE ORDER PEST!" And then I tell Luca to bring me the guillotine to frighten him.

And that's why I go to Pest. He's the best in town at what he does, whether it's rape or delivering a plate of shit to a special friend.

By the way, how did my shit taste, Lane? I threw some salt, pepper, and breadcrumbs on there for you. What kind of veggies do you like? I'll throw some in there next time. I didn't want you to leave on Monday night on an empty stomach. So I prepared you a victory feast. That's right, Vinnie. Congratulations on your HUGE win over Griffin MacAlister. I know how big of a deal that was for you after you sat there and told me to "be sure and watch it!" Sure, me and everyone else did it three years ago, but the important thing is that it's important to you. I knew you could overcome Griffin (because who hasn't) so that's why I prepared that special meal for you.

I saw your promo, Lane. And I'm disappointed that you've taken my gesture the wrong way. What's all this talk about me trying to keep you from being 100 percent?

See, you were looking too deep into that little gift that I gave you. You should be grateful that I sent Pest out there to hand deliver it. I don't know why he had to do the whole tombstone bit. I promise, I said nothing about a tombstone! I just said, "hey Pest, make sure he gets this meal and a tombstone." And then I sent him on his way. I have no idea why he would be so violent against you.

Think about it. Why would I send Pest after the match had taken place? If I wanted you at 80% or whatever fucking number, wouldn't I have had Pest attack you before the match? You see, that way Griffin could inflict even more damage with you already being in a weakened state. Or maybe I could have sent him during the match and have him cost you the victory in order to bring your confidence down a bit.

But no, Vinnie. I want you at 100%; full momentum. I want Vinnie to be at his best on Wednesday night. That's why I sent you home on Monday night with a full tummy. Can't you see that, Vinnie? Why do you and Peter constantly think that I'm out to get you all of the time when all I do is give you guys gifts? I don't understand it at all.

Don't worry, I'll be sure to counsel Pest about the manner in which he delivered that surprise meal to you. I guess I shouldn't have hired a hitman to do a deliveryman's job.

And as far as me getting in the ring on Wednesday night. Wow, you know, I think I might have given you the wrong impression or something Vinnie.

Quote:Here’s the best part though Maddy – you think you not tagging in is gonna save your ass. Spoiler alert, buddy, but you’re getting in that ring either under your own power or by getting tossed in by me personally. How you thought you’d ever get to walk away as a possible champion by just standing on the apron is pretty amazing to me, dude.

Did I say that I would spend the entire match on the apron? My mistake if I did say that. How wrong of me to mislead you like that, Vinnie. I feel bad now.

Here's the deal, Lane. You can march your ass over to the apron all you want. Go ahead, doesn't bother me one bit because that's the last place you're gonna find me on Wednesday. You see, while you're off fucking around in the corner that will contain either Samuels or Theo, who are more than capable of knocking your lights out, I'll be creeping up behind you with my cattle prod in hand, ready to zap that asshole.

Ah.

Lane, Lane, Lane... You're messing up, my friend. You've got the wrong strategy. You're not alone though because I'm sure that Peter and Morbid are the same way. They're looking to "come after" and "toss" me into the ring, but the whole time I'll be lurking behind them with my equalizer.

So okay, Vinnie. Somehow you're gonna toss my ass into the ring from the apron that I'm supposedly "standing on" all night even though I spelled it out for multiple times that I don't play by the rules. That's cool, but then there's this part of your promo.

Quote:Just do me a favor, alright, Madison? Just tag in. Once. You don’t have to stick around in the ring for long, and I won’t even pin you.

And now look at you, Lane. Begging me to tag in. What a quick shift in power that was. I go form getting tossed in to getting begged to tag in.

I guess after our little back and forth conversation this week, you're just dying to get me in between those ropes, aren't you? Maybe we should call you Lusty Lane going forward, especially with all of those references you've made about my mouth and other men's penises.

Such a strange request; you asking me to tag in and promising not to pin me, even though I've clearly stated that I will be involved in the match, just not conventionally. But Vinnie, earlier you said that you would "toss" me in the ring.

I don't understand, Lane.

Are you in control of John Madison on Wednesday night?

Or have you forfeited all control to John Madison 24 hours before our encounter?

Funny how that worked out. You tried to take control of the situation by giving me a 48 hour time window to "stay out of your way," but now you've given up all control to John Madison less than 24 hours away from the main event.

What a shame. Here I thought I was gonna get my ass tossed in the ring and beaten up, but now Lusty Lane is on his knees, begging me to tag myself in

I'll have to deny your request for now, Lane.

Actually... Maybe, just maybe I'll have Theo tag me in after he's done a number on you so I can slowly walk in and pin you with one foot placed over your bruised chest.