Rise to Greatness seems to be a time to reminisce. Tommy Boy wants to think about his very first Rise to Greatness. Jake Starr wants to talk about how all he has left is his Supreme Championship. He reflects on all of his past accomplishments and how they apparently mean jack shit now. I have but one question. When did everyone get so goddamn sentimental? Tommy Valentine wants to get in touch with his inner Caitlyn Jenner. Jake Starr wants to channel Kurt Cobain. Well, I am not here to be sentimental. I don’t have a good track record at the big event. I don’t have as many accomplishments. But I am not here to worry about my Rise to Greatness record. I am not here to talk about how nothing I have done means two squirts of piss anymore.

I will leave that to my opponents who leave me unimpressed. Merrick Wiseman hasn’t said a word yet. He is waiting with is handgun, with one in the chamber, to shoot at all of us last minute, hoping that it explodes and hits us all simultaneously. Just like the words of my opponents thus far, his attack will bounce off of me like bullets to Superman. I am not focused on Rise to Greatness pay per views of the past. I am focused on tomorrow night and how my accomplishment will be something to talk about when it is all said and done. Tommy Valentine thinks enough is enough. Well he will realize that he didn’t have enough to stop me from achieving victory once again. Jake Starr wants to continue on his downward spiral. I will continue rising to the top and I will smile at him while I am looking down. I am not here to be friendly. I am not here to whine.

Simply put, I am here to fucking win.


August 2014

I watch through teary eyes as my sister exits the hospital room. She told me that she would keep my mother and the rest of the family at bay, seeing how none of us are on speaking terms. Once she closes the door, I look at the now lifeless body of my father, Charles Evans. His eyes closed, his hands resting on his stomach. The tubes removed from his nose. I wipe away the tears from my eyes, as the realization that I am alone with my father hits me, and a smile appears across my face.

James Evans: “You got what you deserved, you bastard…”

My voice grows with so much excitement, that I playfully look around the room and put my index finger to lips as if I am telling everyone to be quiet, while maintaining a smile on my face.

James Evans: “Just in case you didn’t figure it out during your…last…moments, I will tell you what happened. For weeks, I had someone scope you out, learning your everyday routine. You always went to the same bar at night, ordering the same drink each time, going to the same restaurants, ordering the same meal each day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You went to the gym. You went here. You went there. Everywhere you went, I knew about. So, I started to fuck with you, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me giddy watching you squirm, watching all of your little paranoid moments… constantly looking over your shoulder.”

I look around again making sure no one is close by, as I say my last good-byes to my dear old dad. The thought of actually calling him that makes me sick.

James Evans: “You were so paranoid that you made yourself a little video, sending it to your lawyer, telling me that you thought someone was out to kill you. That if I were watching the video it would mean that you were more than likely dead. Telling me that you had signed everything over to me. You told me that you loved me and that you were proud of me. Ha….it’s funny, Dad…because it took the fear of death for you to come out and say it. Too bad that you never said it while you were actually alive and well, running around doing your own thing, not giving two shits about myself or the rest of the family. So yeah, like I said….you got what you deserved…”

I run hands of my face and through my hair, as my smile had faded and I can feel myself becoming consumed by emotion. It is strange looking at my father, absolutely lifeless, when every time I saw him growing up, he was full of life, full of charisma, full of the one constant thing….shit. My hands leave my hair and face, and I can just feel myself staring over at the man who once was a giant in this world, Charles Evans, with nothing short of disdain.

James Evans: “So, I am going to take your company. I am going to take your legacy. I am going to take it all, Dad and I am going to make it reach levels it has never reached before. And once that happens, I am going to watch it all burn away. I am going to ruin everything. I am going to piss all over everything that you have built, simply because you built it, simply because…I can. But don’t worry, I won’t do it just yet. I am going to let it build, and reach fever pitch. It will come as a shock to everyone. I will put on my best suits and my best smile. I will tell anyone and everyone that I am going to do you proud and that I am going to do this and that I am going to do that. And then, I am going to piss it all away…I am going to watch it burn, before doing what you did to me, what you did to our family and that is…walk…away…”

I lower my head for a moment or two, trying to gather my thoughts. I look back up and I am glaring over at the lifeless body of Charles Evans.

James Evans: “You brought this on yourself. You did nothing but shit all over me and the family. You only looked out for yourself. Yet somehow, people worried about you, they cared about your well-being, while you did nothing but laugh about it, like it was all some sort of joke. My sister, your daughter…would call me asking where you were, asking if I knew how you were doing, yet you never said a word to her. Even after you and I did our work for the FBI and we got out, you never called her. You never called anyone. You dragged me into the trenches and then left me alone. By that point, I had had enough. I couldn’t just let you go on, having control over everyone’s lives. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t have the fucking right, you prick!!!”

I feel so full of emotion that I bolt from my chair. Once I am to my feet, I run my hands over my face a few times, trying to regain my composure, telling myself that I will have to leave this room and face my sister, as she said that she would wait for me. I take in a few deep breaths, before slowly exhaling and speaking once more.

James Evans: “But now it is all over. You won’t be able to bother anyone anymore. Sure, Holly will think of you from time to time, but the pain will eventually go away. She will move on, as will everyone else. I did this to you. You and I have always been at war, Dad and now it seems that I have finally won….”

I sigh.

James Evans: “I am going to do what I said I would do. I am going to do what you never did and that was being a man of your word. You made promises that you never kept. This is more than a promise. This is a guarantee.”

I then finish speaking before turning and walking away from the body, heading towards the door. As I reach the door, something stops me. All of a sudden, I feel compelled to do something else, so without realizing it, I am slowly turning and looking at the body once again. I then find myself saluting it, the shell of my father, by lifting my middle finger and the words escape my mouth before I make my exit.

James Evans: “I hope you rot in Hell.”


Modern Day

Exiting the airport from my trip to see Uncle Armand, I received a telephone call. It was from my sister. She stated she needed to see me. I hadn’t seen her since the day my father’s will was read to my mother and I. At first, I will be honest, I didn’t want to answer the call. Once I did, I didn’t want to agree to meeting with her, but for some reason I did.

And here I am, sitting in a café, waiting for my sister to arrive. The memory of the night in my father’s hospital room repeats over and over in my head. At first, I didn’t feel bad about it, but the more it repeats, I sense a slight feeling of guilt. I have to remind myself that I did it for the right reasons. I remember telling my father over and over again throughout the years that the drink was going to be the end of him. In a way it was, with a little bit of poison in the mix. And now, I have it all. The company, the money, the wealth, the fame, the power. I have it all.

I hear the door to the café upon, the ding kind of startles me, breaking me from my broken record of trips down memory lane. I turn and I see my sister. While she is young and beautiful, today she looks like a complete and utter mess. I automatically begin thinking the worst. I ask myself if she is drugs. I ask if she had been raped. Over and over, the thoughts begin to flood my brain as she draws closer and closer. When she reaches me, I stand up and we embrace. She squeezes me tightly, and I get the feeling that she doesn’t want to let go. For a brief moment or two, neither did I. I blink and I tell myself that I have to maintain composure. I have to be strong. I have to stay in control.

I break the embrace and pull out her chair, before taking a seat myself. Once seated, she runs her hands through her hair and lets out a sigh.

James Evans: “What’s the matter, Holly? You’re not looking like your normal self.”

I try to laugh after I finish speaking, but she cuts me off, a glare in her eyes as she responds.

Holly Evans: “Like you would know. You haven’t exactly been around much, James.”

I nod my head and put my hands up in surrender.

James Evans: “You’re right. I haven’t been. I figured you guys were on Mom’s side after the whole reading of the will thing.”

Holly shakes her head.

Holly Evans: “James, I don’t care about any of that shit. I really don’t. And yeah Mom is pretty pissed about everything, stating that you don’t need the money since you have a wrestling career and all. I tell her over and over again that it was Dad’s decision and no one else’s.”

James Evans: “Well, you’re right about that and I am glad that you don’t give a shit about it. Now that we have established that, I will ask again. What’s the matter, Holly? There is a reason you called me. So out with it already.”

The words escape my lips and the tears begin to slowly stream down her face. I feel like a pompous asshole right about now. I lean forward in my chair, clearing my throat, while I remind myself to stay strong, to stay in control.

James Evans: “Holly…seriously…tell me what’s wrong. I know I haven’t been around a lot, but I am here now. You can talk to me. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

She buries her face in her hands for a few moments, and snorts and draws in a few deep breaths, before removing the hands from her face and locking eyes with me.

Holly Evans: “I miss him….”

I respond, already knowing the answer to my own question.

James Evans: “You miss who?”

Holly Evans: “I miss Dad. It’s been almost a year and not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. Seeing you now makes me miss him even more. You remind me so much of him that it’s not even funny.”

James Evans: “I hope that it is the good parts of him that you see when you look at me, otherwise we both may need counseling.”

We both share a laugh for a few moments, before she begins to speak once more.

Holly Evans: “I see the good and the bad in you, James. The good and bad parts of him. I know underneath it all though, James that you are a really good guy.”

I hate hearing that. I really do. I am not a good guy. Every now and then there is a glimpse of emotion in me, but recently, I have been putting that to the side. I have more important things to do like destroy the legacy my father left and create my own. She says those words and I just put on a fake smile, before responding.

James Evans: “Holly, I know you miss Dad. I miss him too….”

My voice trails off. I play it off as sadness, but it is more like sickness that I’m fighting off.

James Evans: “But I know that he is proud of you and Logan. I also know that it is like it was with Pawpaw. The pain and the missing….it never goes away but it gets better with time. I think of Pawpaw a lot too. But like I said, it will get easier with time.”

She lowers her head and smiles some as she does it. She looks up at me and nods, tears filling her eyes once again. And once again, I feel like shit. It repeats over and over in my mind that I am losing my composure, that I am losing control. I stand up and walk over to my sister, extending my hand. She reaches and accepts mine as I pull her out of her chair and I hug once more. I tell her that everything is going to be okay. I tell her that things will get easier. I tell her that our father is in a better place, feeling somewhat bad for lying to her. I then tell her that she is a strong person and that she will get through this better than anyone else. I then tell her that I love her. We then break the embrace and she stares at me, a few tears dangling on her eyelashes, a sort of smile on her face.

Holly Evans: “Thank you, James. I really appreciate it. Things will get easier for the both of us. I just know it.”

I nod, cursing myself under my breath.

Holly Evans: “You’re the best big brother anyone could ever have and I love you…”

I put on a fake smile again, before responding.

James Evans: “I love you too…”


My fist collides with his face, this fucking bum, this scum of the Earth, this waste of life. He drops to the ground and I immediately jump on him, driving my knees into his chest, so he cannot get away. His face is bloodied. The skin of his cheeks are split. After meeting with my sister, I felt consumed by rage. I was angry at myself. Beating the shit out of this guy, who I am paying by the way, is helping me relieve some of that anger. I had a few members of my security team drive me out to one of the many bum lounges as I call them. I have paid this fuck, this piece of garbage a grand, telling him that I need to hurt him, but that he is not to say a word about it to anyone. I tell him that I will pay for his medical expenses once I return for another round.

Right now, I am not thinking about that. I am thinking about my choices. I made the choice to take my father’s life, not thinking about the consequences of my actions. The bum flails his hands up at me, mouthing words that I do not hear. I see red as I shove hands out of my face, telling him not to fucking touch me before driving my knuckles into the meat and bone of his face. I get up and I think about how the choice I made to kill my father and how it started off like an idea. I played with the idea much like I am playing with this bum’s life. I tell myself as I charge him, rearing my leg back before kicking him in the ribs, before laughing as he flops on the ground like a fish out of water.

I think to myself that I never thought about how my choice would become an action. I think to myself that I never thought about how my action would affect others, especially my loved ones. I tell myself that my sister is hurt because of me, as I stomp away at the bum’s body. I am not even paying attention to where my foot goes. All I know is that I am going for broke. I then grab him by the back of his hair and I drive my knee into the side of his face. He drops to the pavement, blood running out of his nose and mouth. I am gasping for air, but I feel better.

The bum speaks, his words muffled.

Bum: “No….no….no more…please…God no more…

I walk over and I kneel down beside him, grabbing him by the hair once more, before responding.

James Evans: “I am not going to hurt you anymore, but you need to realize that you made the choice for this to happen. You said yes. I have taken lives before so consider yourself lucky. People who have tried to hold me back, who have tried to control me, they have all fallen. They made the choice to do so and when they fell, they fell hard. I had no sympathy for them just as I have no sympathy for you.”

I shove him back down and I spit on him before turning and walking. I tell myself that I need to maintain control, that I need to maintain that concept of no sympathy. My sister hurts, but in the end, my actions were justified. I did her a fucking favor. She may never know what I did, but I did it for her, for my brother, for my mother. I did it for all of us. I tell myself that having sympathy will make me weak and that if I am weak then I will not be able to complete my mission. I tell myself that I refuse to do so. That control is mine.


- - - - - SHOOT - - - - -


Can you feel it? Rise to Greatness is upon us. You can feel it in the air. You can feel it in your bones. It pumps in your blood, coursing through your veins, as the hands on the clock tick tock towards the day some of us will rise while others will fall. I don’t have the greatest record at Rise to Greatness. I haven’t won a match since 2011. And no, that doesn’t sit well with me but what can you do? I made mistakes in the past. I wasn’t on my game. I didn’t get to the ring in time. I took my opponent for granted. I can sit here and tell you this and that as to why my record is one and three, but there is really no point. You win some and you lose some. Jake Starr was once undefeated at the event, but last year he lost. He was devastated. He wasn’t the same afterwards. I can’t say I blame him. I mean, the guy was in his very first Rise to Greatness main event, competing for the SCW World Championship but he lost. Jake Starr went out and did what he is known for, which is fighting like there is no tomorrow, but he came up short. I know what it is like to come up short. Jake and I have a lot in common, but we are also different. Jake hasn’t left several times after coming up short. I have. Jake has brought it up recently, saying that I always end up leaving, or that I question as to whether or not I should stay. He is right. I have done those things, but it is getting old. The whole me leaving and coming back thing is about as old as me bringing up Jake Starr holding the Board of Directors hostage to get a World title match. It just needs to be put to bed.

Something else that needs to be put to bed and I mean fast is this idea that I want to be Jake Starr. Jake said it himself that I want to be him. He said that because I was relevant in the SCW at one point, that I feel that I can leave then come back and be placed into the title mix. First off, thank you Jake. I am glad that you stated that I have been relevant during my tenures with the SCW. I am someone who has consistently gotten better against you in the ring. You have bitched about people getting shots ahead of you, Jake. We have all heard you go on and on and on, but you think that I am copying you by airing my grievances? No. I am afraid not buddy boy. You see, you have actually had shots. You’ve been a staple remember? You have always fought to become a staple in this company. I fought from September 2010 to July 2011 to become a staple, to get recognition, to get title shots, but I was always placed on the backburner so people like Chad and Ace, who no showed events, got more television time and more recognition, as if everything that I had done didn’t mean anything. You waltz in and win two matches then automatically get an Adrenaline title shot. A few months later, you are get big match opportunities such as competing for a shot at the World title, or even competing for the World title, passing over people who had been working their asses off to get recognized, to get shots like that. You have been pushed to the fucking moon since you signed the dotted line.

I have pinned World Champions, cleanly. I have pinned performers who are considered main event, cleanly yet I have never received a shot at the big one. I have been constantly passed over like so many others before me and after me. The SCW powers that be keep going to their comfort zones such as Syren, Shilo Valiant, David Helms, and a few others. You have been one of their comfort zones too, Jake, but when you are not seen as you, you panic. You begin to break down, so that is why you sum up all of your strength and your curse words to go on a twenty minute rant about how you deserve this because you’ve done that and you get rewarded for it. You want to knock me for getting fed up and leaving when I have scratched and clawed to escape from the shadows of others, so I can stand on my own two feet in my fucking path? Fuck you, you brat. All you have ever really had to do is ask for a title shot or bitch, moan, and complain about getting a title shot. It used to be based upon your ability, Jake because when you’re not whining and bitching, you are one hell of a performer. I told you during my last promo that you are one of the best. I stand by that, but you bitch, moan and complain when you so that tarnishes everything you’ve accomplished. So, no I am not like you. I have a legit reason to be pissed, to want to go to war with our boss. I have been held back and he has not shown me the same attention he has always shown you. You were his golden child at one point. It is now David Helms and I am sorry if that hurts your feelings, Jake but truth is truth. And here is some more truth. You are not the first person to go after Oleks. If you were then yeah you could say that I was trying to be you, but since you’re not, it would be like me saying you’ve been trying to be Greg Cherry.

You say people in the locker room as well as in the office, and even the fans don’t respect me, that they see me as a joke, that I haven’t accomplished anything or really done a damn thing in this company. That is fine, Jake. Sticks and stones, Jake, sticks and stones. I don’t want the respect of the locker room. I fight for myself. I don’t fight for the fans either. Anytime I have tried to fight for them or the locker room, such as the wars against New Eden, I have been overlooked. So I have tried but I don’t get recognized. So yeah if I don’t feel appreciated or if I don’t like the direction my career is going, I speak my mind. If I don’t get heard, I fucking quit. I don’t need your permission to do it. You wouldn’t know what that is like. You have had one of the worst years of your SCW career yet you managed to get a shot at the Adrenaline title. You wanted to win that title so you could make this so called filler match at Rise to Greatness mean something. Well, once again you are wrong. This match means more to me than some championship. It would have been an added bonus, but no. I have all I need right here, right now. I get to face off against you, Tommy Boy and Merrick, three individuals that I simply cannot stand. If I come out of this on top then being able to outshine the three of you on the biggest stage of them all is all that matters. That is all the motivation that I need.

It is not about keeping a record alive. That is all that matters to you. You feel like you are going to become irrelevant if someone beats a record of yours, or if you can become the first at something. This is something that you need to comprehend. This is why I can’t stand you. The world does not revolve around you, Jake. This isn’t 2009 or 2010. Those were your golden years. Listen to what Tommy Valentine said to me a few weeks ago on Breakdown. He told me that I need to let it go. You should listen to his advice Jake. Let it go. Your tired shtick of bitching, moaning, and complaining….stating that you led a resurgence in this division and that division is just that…tired. It is over, Jake. You need an ending and buddy, I am here to provide you with one. It has nothing to do with using you, Jake because I am not using you. I just want to beat you. I told you from the get go that you were a problem that I needed to deal with.

Sunday night, I will deal with you. I will send you home to wife and child, a broken and defeated man. You can look them in the eyes and tell them the ugly truth, that you just don’t have it anymore, that you just didn’t care anymore, that if it had nothing to do with a championship then your heart wasn’t in it. But those would be lies. The ugly truth would be that you lost to the better man, the man you have always put down and shit on….James Evans. If you want to murder someone in the locker room afterwards, go for it. I will be too busy celebrating.

You better find a reason to care otherwise that will be all she wrote for you.

And it seems she has written yet another chapter to the rivalry between the Valentine formerly known as Thorn and yours truly, James Evans. Hey Tommy how are you? I am sure you are psyched about this Sunday. You are ready to get your paws on me so you can teach me a lesson, aren’t you? I just know that you are. I can see it in your eyes. I can see the tiny bulge in your skinny jeans whenever you mention my name or get near me. I know that the world is clamoring for you to rise back up through the ranks and compete for the top prize in this industry, but Tommy…Tommy…Tommy…the world doesn’t know what the fuck it wants. The world is in a tailspin. No one is thinking straight and neither are you to be perfectly honest.

You came after me for calling out your best friend, David Helms? Oh grow up….

Oh and I attacked some people backstage. Really? That is the best you could come up with? Oh yeah, because I deserved it! Oh man. That is intimidating Tommy. You speak of fetishes but when you really think about it, I think you have a fetish…for me. I mean, back in 2012, you stuck your nose in my business when I was trying to beat the hell out of Gable. When I issued an open challenge for the Underground title, there you were. And now that I have been causing all kinds of hell and havoc, attacking people, picking on David and what not….here you are, coming at me…again. I think you’re not being honest here, Tommy. Either you want me or you are working hard on finding ways to stay relevant. It seems that has always been the case. You use me to keep you relevant. Well, you are welcome Tommy for all of the favors in the past, but Sunday night you are going down. You will fall to me because I am every bit as good as I say I am. It is time that you and people like Starr recognize it and accept it. Just like you need to realize that you aren’t going to shut me up, Tommy. You have the tools to win Sunday. You’ve beaten me before. But even if you manage to get the win, I will be right back the next show ready to go again.

You know, it seems we have lost our respect for one another since we last danced in the realm of the underground. You wanted to provide me with the chance to prove that I was the best in the business, that I was the man. But then you went on to say that you answered my open challenge all of those months ago because no one else did. You did it out of pity. It is as if you felt sorry for me, Tommy. That is why I cannot stand you. That is why I hate you. I didn’t leave because you beat me. I left because of the fact that my career was getting shit on, my reign as Underground Champion was being shit on. Our match wasn’t even televised. I am not sorry that I’m not like you. I don’t put up with that garbage. I will stand my ground. You can take everything on the chin, be it an untelevised match or David Helms’ ball sack. I am not going to. I refuse to. You are okay with everything, even providing me with a challenge out of fucking pity.

So I ask now, who is going to pity you, Tommy?

Who is going to pity you are we have another money match and tear the roof off of the arena on the biggest stage of them all and I beat your sorry ass? Is it going to be David Helms, the man you decided to defend against me? I don’t think so. He will be too busy trying to decide who to fuck, marry, and kill between Mr. D, Syren, and Reagan Street. His hands will be tied. You will be all alone because I know none of your fans are going to come out and save you when I dish out the ass kicking of a lifetime, Tommy. You may have had my number in the past but this time it’s different. The only number you’re going to need is nine-one-one, because while this may not be the Underground, I am going to make sure I hurt you really, really bad, Tommy. It is Rise to Greatness my friend. We are going to dip into depths of Hell once more, where pain and agony reign supreme. There will be blood, sweat, and tears hitting the canvas, the concrete floor, and even the barricades. You and I steal the show no matter what match we are involved in. That much we can agree on, but I am going to outdo you, Tommy. You are a hell of an athlete, but I am going to outdo you.

Like I said before, I am going to make you regret walking out and dropping me with the Griever’s Bane. I am going to make you regret walking out, picking up a microphone and calling me out. There will not be a Merrick Wiseman to stop me from punting you into oblivion as it is a four way match, every man for himself. So I can do whatever I want, Tommy and I am going to make sure I make the most of every opportunity, every open shot I have on you. I am going to make you regret announcing to the world that you wanted to fight me, because this is one fight that you are not going to win. The main event that everyone wants you to reach will belong to me. The fans will shed tears once they realize that their hero, Tommy Valentine was not the new standard, he was nothing more than a substitute. I will rise to greatness as I stand over your fallen body. For your sake, I hope you are able to dig down deep and ante up, because it is going to take everything you have and that much more to beat me.

You want to know what the hell happened to me? I have gotten sick and tired of people like you. You go through rough patches yet you are treated like fucking royalty mainly out of your association with the main event stars. I go through a rough patch, I get treated like an afterthought. You get on a roll and you are treated like you are getting ready to compete for the World title. I get on a roll and people just shrug. I am not going to put up with it anymore. Yeah I made waves. I made my presence felt. I have made a vow to myself that I will continue to make waves, bigger waves, taking things to the NEXT LEVEL for myself, even if I have to serve everyone’s head on a platter. I am hungrier than ever before and I will stop at nothing to get what is mine. You are right that I do deserve something. I deserve the spotlight that you and Jake have already tasted and shared. I deserve to be in the main event, competing in the big matches, wrestling for those championships. Sunday I prove it. I prove that I deserve to be recognized as being in the same league as main eventers such as yourself and Jake Starr. I prove that you deserve to bow the fuck down.

And speaking of bowing down, that is not something I do, especially in the face of authority. You, Merrick Wiseman, with your fake badge and your thirst for justice…I laugh at you. I don’t laugh at your abilities. You and I have gone in that ring. We have exchanged body blows. We have torn into one another and we are getting ready to do it again. Normally, I respect justice if it is true justice. My quest for recognition is defined by true justice. I am fighting for a worthy cause. I am fighting for myself against the evil empire that is the Drachewych family as well as the SCW booking committee. I am fighting for my career, Merrick and yet you don’t seem to get it. You think that I am attacking people just for the hell of it. There are reasons behind my attacks. People like Jake Starr have been force fed to the fans, being shoved down their throats as well as ours, with the company brass stating that people like Jake Starr are the standard bearer we should all live up to.

If we aren’t like them then we are limited, there is no room for promotion so to speak. How is that not wrong? How is that not a brand of injustice? Look me in the eye and tell me I am wrong. And you can say that my actions are that of a coward. Well, we can look at that like this. Me being a coward is like me saying you’re not a virgin. It simply just isn’t true. I bring my so called henchmen with me because I know that security is going to get involved. You can call what I am doing a revolution of sorts…in fact, call it a Rev-ans-lution. Mr. D and people like you are trying to stop me from achieving what I want. Mr. D is avoiding me like the plague, Merrick as I challenged him to a match for Rise to Greatness. The old gimp is afraid of me. He is afraid to suffer the consequences of his actions against me. And I am sure upon hearing that, you will state that I need to pay for my actions. I am sure I will but Rise to Greatness will not be the night that happens.

You are not going to stop me, Officer Dewey.

None of you will stop me. And no, you’re not going to force me to leave the SCW. I am here until this damn place burns to the ground and I can piss on its ashes.

In the end, we can all talk our shit and talk about what has happened over the course of the last few weeks, but in the end, all that matters is Rise to Greatness. People typically talk about gaining momentum going into events such as this, but I am focused on getting in the ring. Wins and losses beforehand matter not. Getting it done on the biggest stage is where it counts, it is where it matters the most. Jake Starr can talk about being the best, and being the most this and that. Tommy can talk about how he is on a roll and how he is ready to reach heights never before seen. You can talk about how you are going to bring down the big bad evildoer that is yours truly. I am coming out to kick asses, take names and make the three of you my bitches. I am going out there guns blazing. What is going to happen? Drachewych going to fire me? Suspend me? He needs to realize that I have more money than he does. I can shut Rise to Greatness down. I can own the name and sell it as a porno movie. He needs to realize that I’m not someone to be fucked with, because I simply do not care. You want justice? You are chasing down a pipe dream, Merrick because your brand of justice is straight out of a 1960s syndicated crime show.

This is real. This is a reality.

I’m real. I am your reality. You have to deal with someone who eats, sleeps, and breathes, practically lives to be the best at everything he does. When he gets slapped in the face and disrespected, it makes it worse for those around him. When I mop the ring with the three of you at various points during this contest, blame Drachewych. When the three of you are lying on your backs, staring up at the arena lights, while I celebrate, dancing in the moonlight of my victory, blame Drachewych. He pushed me to this point. I wanted nothing to do with any of you. I wanted to kick his ass this Sunday night. But when your names have the letter L beside it for July 26th, 2015…blame yourselves….

Blame yourselves for simply getting in my way…