Brutal honesty at the edge of the blade

{The first thing that we hear is the hauntingly beautiful chords of Apocalyptica's "Worlds Collide" as the screen slowly fades into a dark room with a slight haze in it, the only light is the faint rays of sunlight being filtered in via the window behind the chair and the man sitting there...a man relaxing almost like he doesn't have a card in the world, but with a slight lean forward we are shown that it is none other than Alex Slayer}

Alex:
The old saying goes that patience is a virtue, and I'm learning patience.

{Alex laughs deeply, a very rich tone coming from a man of his heritage as it sounds both soothingly rich and somewhat sinister at the same time}

Alex:
But it is a tough lesson because when you get right down to it, I'm not a very patient man. I'm not a man who is prone to waiting for his prey to trip the trap...no, I'm the man who runs his prey to ground and rends it to pieces in the very barrow where it hides.

I mean look at those that I've challenged thus far. Vincent Lyons of World Wrestling Headquarters fame for one. I called him out publicly and I was kind enough to wait for him to respond...but he never does because he feels that he's safe where he sits pretty and believes that he's more than a king of nothing as the "Young Lion" is nothing more than a toothless cub.

Then we come to you, the "Last Real Revolutionary" that is Jacob Knight. You promised to come after me, you even told me to prepare for the Hell that awaited me.

Yet I prepared and I awaited and yet again, another self styled neverwas let me down.

{Alex leans forward, his devilishly handsome face becoming more clear through the smokey haze like a monster coming out of some time forgotten mists}

Alex:
Time and again I have been patient. But not now because at chapter nine, live from Atlantic City, I have a chance to claim a little something for myself in the form of the number one contender for the Pro Wrestling Nova International heavyweight championship. But I've got to go through two little nuggets of shit and one big jerk to get there.

While I'm not concerned with either Remy Ordox, a man who was given such a perfect spot here in Pro Wrestling Nova to start an epic career for himself...he has proven to be a three time loser whose career is about to be cut down in its prime by me. You have been given chance after chance, Remy, yet you've done and said nothing so at chapter nine, one stroke from my oh so sexy muscles and you're done here in PWN.

You'll be cut in half and *gone*, a useless little piece of jobber shit removed from this company's roster in order to make room for someone new...perhaps someone who will actually do something in this company.

Which brings me to you, Sabin Richards. It's amusing but you and I both know that's not really your name. You're just a pretender trying to use someone else's name to try and get ahead in this sport...does the ACTUAL Sabin Richards know what you've done to his name?

{Another deep rich, sinister chuckle}

Alex:
What do you think he'll do if and when he does find out? Perhaps I should just leave you alone and let him come and deal with you, oh ye of falsehoods...but perhaps after I end your time in this company as well. After all, in the past of my mother's country-when you stole from the village elder, it cost you your hand.

Which now in turn brings me to the one man that actually might be a challenge;

*YOU*, Hans Olsen.

I know that you've been dealing with your own hell of being patient, as you've witnessed one pretender to the crown walk through the doors to this company after another, always serving as that keeper to the gateway...and never being seen as a real wrestler.

No doubt somewhere your reply to me will be a comment about breaking my ankles and or talk about being a gold medalist.

Yet you wish to be taken seriously?

{Another chuckle, this one more sinister than anything}

Alex:
I can take the *WRESTLER* that you are seriously, Hans. Just not the *TALKER*...you're one hell of a wrestler, don't get me wrong, but you lack the real charisma to do any actual harm when it comes to doing promos.

...kind of like some little shit that calls himself "King Maverick", all balls but no real ability to talk, which is why he is the court jester of Queen Claudia over in Wrestleworld, because if he was here in Pro Wrestling Nova then he would be eaten *ALIVE* by people like me before he'd be finished because he is nothing like you and I, Hans.

We're both predators.

{The expression on Alex's face grows serious as he slowly nods for a moment}

Alex:
But you see Hans, where you are just a regular run of the mill kind of predator...I'm an apex predator. I'm the Gawd Damn Man around here for a reason and after I take my contendership at the international championship, I won't miss.

You see while you and I, Hans, are willing to do whatever it takes in that ring to make people beg for their careers, I go that one extra step past whatever you think that you can do and I cut them down with one single flash of my blade because when I draw the Yamato, people get cut down no matter who the fuck that they are.

One flash of the blade and they fall down.

I can cut them from any angle I chose, without them even knowing that I'm coming unless I want them to know.

{Alex then leans back in his chair before picking up a cigar from the table next to him, clipping off a bit, and then lighting it}

Alex:
At Defiant, I plan on cutting the chafe from this company on my way to the top and there is not a damned thing that you can stop me from taking my crown, Hans, because when you live by the sword...you die by the sword. See you in Atlantic City.

{The screen fades out}