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AerialKnight · **11-28-2014, 04:39 PM**

"You fucking kidding me? This man has the gall to believe he could take me down legitimately? Alright, I'm going to take this douchebag down to where he deserves."

Johnathan says as he finishes watching the newest TJ Wallace promo with great annoyance. He pops a couple of aspirin that he kept on the side of his bed and drinks a swing of water to down the six pills he took. He looks over to the Cambot, which somehow turned itself on sometime throughout the course of Wallace's promo. This startles him for a bit, since there's no indication of the bot turning on, nor is there any signal that the thing is filming. He then smiles at the tiny flying filming machine, seeing how the bot has already turned on and that he doesn't have to go anywhere to film this promo. Under his breath, he tells himself that he needs to fix the way the bot is turned on and off, because the little thing has been turning on more frequently than before.

"Well, Wallace talked about us finally. So did Frost...kinda. You see, what I think happened was that they were hanging out in some sort of abandoned room trying to trash talk us, but Frost kept sucking so Wallace had to cup check his own tag partner every time he fucked up or whatever. I really didn't care too much about what those teenagers do to their own bodies. What does matter is the things he said about his upcoming match against both me and the Swann. And wouldn't you know it, the kid had nothing interesting to say at all. I mean, I'll try to wade through that snoozefest of a promo that he put up and hopefully stay awake long enough to rebut all of his oh so clever words of wisdom he tried to silence me with."

He lets out an arrogant chortle before continuing.

"You say that I couldn't win a match to save my life, and yet the rookie proceeded to look down at my win loss record and said that I did, in fact, win five times. Sure I've won about a third of all the matches I've been put in, but let's face it, most of the people I've been put up against are highly skilled, talented individuals that have achieved the greatness that one day I'll be more than likely to achieve. What about Wallace? Swagmire has achieved the oh so wonderful achievement of being pinned by a child that defeated Peter Gilmour with ease. And Wallace lost to the man who let a kid pin him. So somehow, Wallace is worse than the man who let Christian Gunn sit on his chest for twelve hours, effectively giving the belt back to one of the worst Xtreme champions of all time. I don't see how you can brag about having more wins than me when you have one of the most career stunting losses in pro wrestling history."

"You also say that you're a man's man because the only member of the Asylum that thought you were worth his time was fucking Mick Manson, who, may I remind you, got his ass handed to him on that same five way dance by yours truly."

He smiles at the bot.

"How's that head of your's doing by the way, Manson? I know you want that TV title, but I don't want you to break your skull by facing me one more time. Come back when you're ready, alright slugger?"

He laughs once again.

"Anyways, winning your matches doesn't mean that you're a credible threat, dude. I've arguably been in some of the best matches on the card that have people seen these past months. What about you? What have you been in? Openers? Yeah, openers. Once you lost to Swags, the management realized then how shit you were at fighting that they decided to drop you at the bottom and not look back. Face it kid, once you find yourself looking straight up at that ceiling, you'll know where you truly belong. I can help Swann get some kind of push when he and I get a victory over you. That's right, I said when. There is no fucking way I'm going to lose to a couple of nobodies like you two."

"Oh you're going to be facing-"

The knight suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter at the mere thought of Wallace standing a chance against Erebus. After a good ten seconds (yes I timed it, shut up), he clears his throat and gets back to the topic at hand.

"If I'm going to be real to myself and everyone watching at home, I have to rephrase that statement you made. You're going to be absolutely decimated, yeah that works, by Azrael Erebus sometime in the future, huh? Well then, remind me to bring the popcorn just to watch you flail around the ring before the spaceman puts you down like a rabid animal. I think people would pay good money to watch that happen. Hell, I can imagine what the posters would say about that match.

He smiles before taking another swig of water to impersonate an old timey carnival announcer.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry! Step right up to see the residential wrestling legend, Azrael Erebus, take on local newcomer, TJ Wallace! It'll be the biggest curbstomp of the century ladies and gentlemen! General admission to watch this unbelievable happening is only five dollars! Be there or miss out on the opportunity to have the spaceman kill a man!"

Once again, he laughs it off.

"I have a better chance of defeating Gator than you have against Erebus, and those two are on a whole different ball game! So just face it, 'Not so Fly for a Black Guy', just don't even bother trying to bring up the people I lost against when your repertoire is undeniably weak. Just don't even try, alright?"

He scoffs.

"Who would God favor in this match? The residential nothings that haven't even had any noteworthy victories over anyone relevant? Or will he favor the promising young upstart tagging with the older but still really promising upstart that will become the faces of the company someday? If we're going by movie logic and common sense, the upstarts, because they have that certain look that can get them over in this world. Don't worry, I'm sure me and Xavier will have a great time putting you back in your place."

A confident and really cocky smile emerges on his face.

"See ya on Monday, fuck up. I ain't letting ya tell me nothing. Cambot."

BEEP BEEP.

"Turn off."

The scene cuts to black.

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