"What. The. Fuck. What the actual, goddamned fuck. I finally get my moment in the spotlight, and win the Scramble, and win the Hart title, and then fucking CRIMSON DONG, of all the fucking nitwits in the world, takes a fucking shit on MY title, and hangs me out to dry. Fuck this shit, fuck it right up in it's shitty asshole."

"Ugh, yes, I suppose there are others I need to mention too, don't I? Black, you're just cannon fodder. You were literally the person to give me the Hart title, as when the clock striked 0, you tapped out. So if you're looking for a title shot, look the other way until you can prove to me that you are worthy."

"Ginger, excellent match, you actually had me entertained. Should you wish to tango with me, this time under less... shitty... circumstances, just give the word."

"And yes, TJ, I suppose I have you to mention as well. I used you as a stepping stone. You were blind to my attack, blind to my perfect performance tonight. But, I can see this is far from over. So, what say we have the match that never happened, and I will give you a shot at the Hart title? Next Madness. And make your decision soon. The clock is ticking."

"Tick."

"Tock."

"Tick."

"Tock."

((OOC: Brilliant fucking Night 1. Had me entertained from start to finish, especially the IC title match. Excellent job.))