"Fuck fuck fuck! This shit took too long!"

Oz was thinking. He was in the back of his limo, getting dressed down from the suit he wore at his billion dollar company, dealing with quarterly projections, dealing with what people are not working to their full potential and needed either encouragement or to be excised from the company.

"That meeting took too damn long. Gonna be late to the school."

He pressed a grey button where he sits, and spoke

"Go faster. I'll have to slide more cash into the Chief of CPD's pocket to look past this."

He slid off his suit pants, placing on some black sweatpants, black tank top and black hoodie. After a half hour he came home, with him rushing out of the limo, and running inside his home as his groundskeeper and butlers opened the doors for him.

"Sir, we provided your students with some snacks. Some fruits, mostly. Except one."

Oz rubbed the bridge of his nose before continuing to walk inside and towards his gyms.

"Let me guess, he wanted meat."

The butler nodded

"Great. If he isn't going to take the snacks provided to the rest, then he can put in some after school hours work to earn it."

As he entered his training gym, seeing the group of students stop to look at their teacher and him waving.

"Alright. I am sorry I had to be late. The meeting with the board went a bit longer than I wanted. Spencer, you're gonna be staying after class is dismissed to help tidy up the gym. You want my team to make food special for you, you can get the special chores once you're all done."

He clapped his hands, smiling to the group.

"Okay then. Today, I'm going to teach you how to form a character. Think of what you want for a character. I want to see your best foot forward. This is going to be your pre-match promos. Spence, you're going up against Rebekkah. Josh, you'll be against Nathan. Salina, you'll be against Tracy and Veronika. Luke, you're going to work together with Zac against Larry and Kenneth. I will listen to each of you, and I want to hear your best shit talk. Then I want to see you train together by working a ten minute match together. Cut a post-match promo, and I'll see who has what it takes to continue as is, and who doesn't, I'll work with you and if they're feeling up for it, I'll ask my brothers, The Bastards, to help you with what isn't working for the promos, got it?"

The class seemed to perk up

"Eh eh eh! I can tell when someone is pulling punches. Pulling punches will get you working with Spencer after class. I want you to be as entertaining as possible and yes, as ruthless as possible. You want people to dig in, listen closely to your words, and see why you're better than the person you're facing."

He walked over to his station, looking towards his daughter, smiling at her before blowing a whistle as she watched the group with him. For several hours, they worked not just on ring presence, but also their charisma before match and post-match promos.

---

"Look, there's only so much I can say, to tell people why my opps don't fucking matter. Is Lionel entertaining? Sure. Speaks well, in verse as if he's a Shakespearean Actor. Well, much like old timers say, professional wrestling ain't ballet, Lionel. It's also not some great tragedy that requires poetry. I was raised a rich fuck, lived my teens and 20s like a pauper, chose to live like a rich fuck. You will find no one snobbier than me, and if I so chose, I would destroy you at your own game.

However, I shall just use prose to vivisect you.

I'm tired of talking about Wish. He's not worth my time. Never has been. He's not John Black, so he's not worth the sanity to not just talk about, but also to have to deal with in the ring. Without JB, Wish is a shitty wrestler. With him, he's mediocre at best. Since this is not a tag match, so everyone in the ring will know how exactly how it feels to toss 300+ pounds of shit around the ring.

Finally, Cypher.

I don't know who you are. You've been here a little over a year, but I don't think we've gone up against one another. Thing about me is, I don't know who you are, in order to put you into a situation you wish the General Managers didn't slot you into. Stay out of my way, maybe you could be like my students, and learning from a superior wrestler. I'm not dismissing your talents, if you have any. I just don't give a single, solitary fuck about anything you believe is 'awe worthy' about your career.

At Anarchy, I will give my class a teaching opportunity. Hell, I might even bring them front row so they can get a front row seat to the destruction their teacher brings to matches. To hear me break the bones of my opps without needing a camera, without a microphone. To watch my hand get raised at the end of the match, and prove why I'm one of the greats in this company. Why I deserve every flower.

I'll see you at MY show. Anarchy will be the night you three contemplate taking a break after I stand above you.

See you soon."