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Justin Sane · **11-15-2014, 11:11 AM**

// “For you're about to be buried six.. feet..under.” - the final words of perhaps one of the most mind-numbing promos in XWF history fails to invoke even the slightest emotion within me as I see Hysteria's face finally fade away from my television screen. I smirk as I peel myself away from the black leather sofa in my living room and make my way over to the refrigerator to grab a beer, mulling over Hysteria's words in my head. That guy has serious issues, it's fair to say.. perhaps he is far more insane than I.. he's definitely much more delusional. I rip the top off a cold one and neck it, feeling that ice cold amber liquid glide down my throat and settle refreshingly in my stomach. I make my way over to my computer desk and sit down in a black swivel chair in front of it. Resting my arms on the sides of the chair, I power on the computer and swivel slightly to the left and right, drinking my beer and waiting for the computer to load. I decide that I'd better put Hysteria in his place and show him how you really cut a promo. I consider using the cam-corder I was sent by the XWF, but instead decide I will just film it using my web cam. God only knows I don't need high production values to tear Hysteria's words to shreds. I take another swig from my beer as the cam loads up. Seeing myself on the screen, I hit record and stare into the camera – my eyebrows raised with a bored, disbelieving look. //

“Chilli? Right. A bowl.. of fucking chilli, are you kidding me Hysteria? Is that really the best you can come up with? I don't know if you just watch too much South Park or you desperately needed some filler for your weak-ass promo, but that is perhaps the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard. Well, that and just about everything else I had the misfortune of hearing come out of your mouth. Seriously, I might have to ask my good pal Evertrust just how supernatural his abilities are, because I want that five minutes of my life back.”

// I down another mouthful of the beer and set it down on the desk. A smirk breaks across my face as I continue to address 'the Prophet' //

“You disappoint me, Hysteria. For a man who calls himself 'the Prophet', I would have expected your words to be as sharp as razor blades, though it feels more like you are trying to bludgeon me to death with cotton wool. I mean, come on, the whole name thing again? Seriously? It's been done to death man. I've said it before, make fun of it all you want.. call me out on it all you want. Do I look like I care? Not in the slightest. Bit fucking rich coming from a guy with a name like Hysteria though. Don't get me wrong, it suits you.. because I find your promos to be hysterical.. it's fun to laugh at the misfortune of others and watching you clutch at straws every time somebody puts a camera in front of your face is most amusing. Don't feel bad though, it's the way of the world.. some people have it, some don't. No prizes for guessing which one you are.

I also enjoy the way you pretty much just repeat what I said, like I didn't think it and say it all first. Yeah, I lost to “the Violator” in the King of the Ring tournament, so what. You survived three Butter Socks? Wow, that must make you really hardcore. Guess I better cancel my travel arrangements to South Dakota, save myself the embarrassment of losing. Please. You know, I've seen hundreds of guys just like you. They all walk in the door and you know right away they're just a bunch of attention seeking hacks trying to get themselves over. Masks, face paint, coloured hair.. anything they can think of to try and gloss over the fact that when they step into that ring, they ain't shit. Hell, I'm pretty sure I just described 75% of the Asylum. Cute nicknames you've come up with for each other, too. I can still remember when monikers like “the Martyr” and “the Cleanser” were cool. Oh, wait.. that never actually happened, did it? Fuck me you guys are

.

Let me give you some advice, Hysteria. Stick to playing with little boys and “murdering innocent people”, because you are in way over your head with me. Your ego pushed you into the deep end and your feet aren't touching solid ground. You're just treading water until Monday Madness rolls around. You were one hundred percent right about just one thing, which is the fact that this Monday night, there is no fourth place. I guess that makes me kinda lucky, huh? I guess it also makes you unlucky, because there's is no place on my mind but first. You may just be one of the most sick, twisted individuals in the XWF but when the bell sounds, that counts for very little. You can go around sprouting about that Prophetic Title you so proudly carry around and talk about how the “higher power” has delivered you instantaneous glory that no other religion could ever manage, but there is one thing this higher power did not deliver you.”

// I pause for a brief moment, as my eyes narrow slightly and a wicked grin snaps across my face. //

“Sanctuary.”

// I chuckle softly as I grab my beer and drain what is left of it, setting the empty bottle back down on the desk. //

“Sanctuary from me, Hysteria. Don't get it twisted, I'm not expecting to walk into Madness and walk out unscathed with the 'W' next to my name. I expect you to bring it, and that is exactly, what I want. I want you to bring it all to the table, every last fibre of your being because when it's all said and done and I stare down at your motionless body I want to know that I took the absolute best that the prophetic leader of the Asylum had to offer. You say that “extreme rules are the Asylum's playground”? Well, play time is over. I said that this week would be my redemption, my chance to make amends for the failures I endured in the King of the Ring tournament and the Television Title match, and it will be.

I told you that this week I would prove to the world that my debut, which showed so much promise, was no mere fluke. You, Hysteria, have called me out on this by saying the only thing I will prove is that I was just in a 'right time, right place' scenario when I scored the pin fall victory over Azrael Erebus. Don't flatter yourself.. wearing that cheap belt does not put you in the same league as the likes of Justin Sane. You forget so quickly, just like everybody else, that I put down two former Universal Champions in one night. I was the last man standing at War Games, just like I said I would be.. I told the world that when it was all said and done I would reap the spoils of victory as I stood tall on the bodies of the fallen.

And now, I'm telling you Hysteria. Forget about Alden, he is of no consequence to you. I'm the one you have to worry about, the only one you have to worry about. It's you and me, and you can make as many lame remarks about my name.. or how ugly you think I am, as you like. The fact of the matter is, when that bell finally rings down in South Dakota, your words won't save you. The Asylum, won't save you. The “higher power”, won't save you. Nothing is going to save you from the beating I will unleash upon you, and with the words of my prophecy ringing in your ears Hysteria, you will finally understand that I am everything I claim to be and more. This is more than just redemption.. this, is absolution.”

// I smirk once more as I turn to exit the view of the camera, but stop. I chuckle to myself as something enters my mind, perhaps the most amusing thing Hysteria said whilst attempting to verbally lacerate me, which he clearly failed to do. I sway back into the view of the camera and look into the lens with a smile on my face. //

“Oh and by the way, Hysteria? Your prophecy sucked. I've seen more poetic literature on the back of a Weeties box. Prophet? Please.”

// And with a final chuckle I reach for the mouse and put and end to the recording. //

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