It was a several hours after Ghost Tank's match with Johnathan Knight, which saw him lose. He was in a new home, a new run down house in a new city to live in until Warfare. Resting in this new place, Alvald unpacking some of their luggage. He had a camera on a tripod, and it recorded Ghost Tank, as he relaxed on the couch, turned on the t.v., and saw the first promo and third from Gator. Ghost Tank knew how serious this is, knew how serious he should take Gator, just like how serious he took Johnathan Heartsford. With a nod, he looked to the camera and began to speak,

Gator, welcome back. Sorry you got fucked over by the new GM of Madness. Tough break, buddy. I'm sorry that you had to be hurt as bad as you were, but, you kind of made us hurt you. How? Well, you were kind of a dick. So, we made sure you got taught a lesson. It's really simple, though: Don't be such a fucking dick. Easy lesson, isn't it? I'd say it is.

Now, I find you entertaining, Gator. Especially how you think it's going to be easy to go against Aaron and I. While I'm unsure of my partner's prowess in the ring, he is a Brother of The Asylum. I trust him completely. Right after you, like every-fucking-body else I've face, called me tall and fat, which I've got to respond to again in my career. I am six-foot-fuckin'-eight! While I could have decided "Fuck it, I'll go pure power." or "Fuck it, I'll train to become a luchador." Where one path would've made me into a giant stick. The other would've been a more beefier stick, could've called me Muscletits McGoo. However, I decided to do something most giants don't do. You see, us tall fucks are usually made to do one thing: Be a slow, hulking disaster. Look at some of the big names of giants in the wrestling world. Andre being chief among them. Maybe one of the very first, the Giant archetype, if you will. Mark Calaway was not the agile man in his early years, didn't have the speed. In fact, while a tall motherfucker, he was pure power game, except for when he showed his agility while walking the top rope, before delivering a clubbing blow to the shoulders. Old School as it's called. Giant Gonzalez, but unlike those two, that man really didn't have much going for him. Not enough skill to actually matter. Paul Wight, or Big Show, is probably the most agile of the Giants. Way back when, he did a damn good looking Missile Dropkick, which even some smaller competitors can't even do half as well. Also, a couple of times this year, that giant bald mother fucker did sunset flips! You rarely get to see someone of that size do something like that!

As I grew up, as I became taller, I knew I wanted to break the mold that I would surely have to have been made to suffer through. I decided "Fuck this shit. I'll give these people something they've never seen. I'll make myself into something unique and blow these fucks away!" At first, I was forced to use steroids. I needed to gain that power, quickly. After a year and a half, however, I stopped. Weaned myself off the 'roids. Then I began taking classes. I'd visit masters of freerunning. They'd help me out. I had to learn the basics first. Had to begin increasing my stamina. I needed the physical ability to run marathons and reach the top tier. I even took a few lessons in different martial arts, to try and make my body become a more agile entity. Didn't stick with the lessons too long, but with all of this combined, no, I did not become Captain Planet, but I did become a fast, agile, and powerful creature. Because of the training I put myself through, and still put myself through, I have become something most people will never truly be capable of comprehending. Something I've been saying for a while. I have two different verbal titles, because of this very fact. I have declared myself as A New Breed of Beast, A New Kind of Monster.

Like Brother Frodo did during our first and only match, you think that by calling me a mongoloid, or in some way, that it makes you funny? That it describes me? Trying to name call me something that other people have said and done, makes you an unintelligent clown. Mantitty Galore would have been a funny insult. Sir Roidsalot. Andre the Giant and Jolly Green Giant's love child.

You're not that clever though, are you? Instead you call me fat, call me . The only truly original thing you said is that I'd be better utilized as a bridge instead of a wrestler. That's your only witty barb in any of your promos, yet you think you are going to be able to win this handicap match? You think you're going to be able to say, "I beat two Asylum members in one night!" instead of "Fuck! I only beat one half!"? No. I'm sorry, but no. You are a talented man, Gator. I don't care how you dress. I don't care what you look like. All I care about is that when we're in the ring, that you better, and I mean this, that you better fucking SHOW me, why you were the Television Champ! You better show me why you are someone I should respect, and why you are someone I should take even more serious than I am currently.

Gator, no matter what happens, win or lose, this match is going to be grueling. It will push you to your limits. I will make sure of it. I hold no beliefs that Brother Aaron and I are going to win easily. We will win, though. We will prevent you from seeking the retribution you feel you deserve. I am looking forward to this match, Gator. I am looking forward to testing my abilities on someone as experienced as you. I hope you are going to take us seriously, though. If you honestly believe this will be in a walk in the park, then your cockiness, your ego, will be the very reason why you fall in this, your first match back.

Ghost Tank's signature laugh would sound out, as the video began to fade to black, and those familiar neon green words flashed on the screen during the darkness

Can You HearThe Screams?