Post by Kevin Evel on Aug 20, 2014 21:49:57 GMT
Why, Kevin, why? Why, oh-god, Kevin, why? Why did you stab poor, poor, John Tolly in the back?
That's the question everyone is asking me. That's what's on the tip of everyone's tongue, yet I have a question to ask the world for myself.
Why – no – how? How are you so surprised? How are you so stupid and so ignorant to suspect anything else from me? How did you actually deceive yourself so much? Don't answer that: it's rhetorical. Instead, let me reveal my hand and give you the answers you so desperately want to hear. I'll do this for you because I am a giving person – a giver – and I have no secrets worth keeping. I don't care who hears me. I don't care who knows. You, Tolly, anyone else: it makes no matter to me.
I did what I did to Tolly because that's exactly what he needed. He needed that. He needed to be fed to the wolves and he needed those wolves to rip him to shreds. He needed that, because he wasn't going to listen to me. I have to prove it. I had to show it to him, or rather, allow him to show himself, because the alternative is so much worse.
The other road is so much more painful. I'm a man of mercy, and I see where Tolly's path will take him. He wants KLB, and that's fine. He wants his Invictus Championship, and that's okay too. In fact, I totally can see his desire becoming a reality. Tolly can do it and I'd love to see him do it. He's smart guy with tons of talent, and the worst thing KLB can do for this reign as a champion is to take a guy like Tolly for granted, but I can also see Tolly ruining it for himself.
I see Tolly's confidence getting the best of him. I see him blinded and delusional, high on his own stash. I see him taking on the champion without a care in the world, and when the title is right there, just within finger's reach, he misses it. It grazes his fingertips and then it darts away – far, far, away – and never comes back. He'll look down to his hands and wonder what happened. How did it go so wrong so fast? What did he miss?
That road – that painful, gut-wrenching, road – that's where he's headed. That's the path he walks. I'd like to believe he doesn't mean to. He just doesn't know any better. He doesn't see it like I do, but that's okay. I am here for him. I'll show him what I see and what I know. I'll show him the other way. It's not painless, but it's sure as hell less painful than the road he's on. He needs me to show him the way to become a champion.
That's the why you're looking for. That's the why you want to hear. The answer to the question you can't stop asking is that: I am helping John Tolly win the Invinctus title. I am helping him from screwing himself over. I am grounding him – showing him – how far he needs to go to beat someone of KLB's caliber. I am showing him how far down he needs to sink. I am showing him how far away he is from his goal, at this very second. He needs me. He needs my help so he can see what he needs to do to become a champion or else... it just doesn't happen.
Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them in the skull with a sledgehammer – you have to ruin their world – and then you'll find you have their strict attention. That's what I did. I could have just tried talking to Tolly. I could have cornered him in a room and told him the whole story, and in fact, in a way, that's what I did before the tag match. I tried talking to him, something very uncharacteristic of me. I guess I just like the guy that much. I believe in him that much. I tried to get through to him, but did you see what happened? I was nearly thrown on my head just for trying to help. Surely, nice guys always finish last.
So, I laughed. I laughed at the fool for his foolish ways. I laughed in the face of his ignorance then and I was privileged to laugh again later on that night. The cocky and confident Tolly brushed me off and wanted things done his way. So, sure, let's do it his way. Let's see where this road leads us. What's the worst that can happen? Tolly wrestles the match and fights against the strength of two men. That alone is something of a feat to commend, if he would have actually followed through, but as we all saw, he couldn't finish the job. He was over his head, as would anyone. I would be too in his shoes, but then again, I would never be in his shoes. He was in danger and he needed help. He needed a chance to catch his breath. He needed a second to recuperate.
He needed me.
He knew it. I knew it. The whole world knew it, but we weren't on the easy road. We were on the road familiar to John. Tolly knew best and he was leading the way, but then we all saw what happened. Suddenly, conjuring all the questions in the world, we all found what that road let to. Suddenly, it was all clear what happens when you don't have my help. Judas and Alioth came onto him like hungry wolves and torn him asunder. I laughed as they picked the meat off his bones.
So, John, let me ask you direct: do you think that's the worst it gets? Do you think fighting against two men at once is the very worst you'll see on your path to becoming a new champion? Let me tell you, if you're feeling broken and overwhelmed now – if you feel defeated now – then take this tip: give up. Give up now, before you sink further over your head. Give up before you really hurt yourself. Give up now before you really break your own heart. Because, John, getting your ass kicked by a couple clowns is nothing and should be nothing to a champion. I hope you realize that, because it gets much, much, worse than this. You have to withstand so much more. You have sink so much lower for you to come out the other side as a champion.
Two people, Tolly? Getting your face kicked in by two people was a warm up, or so I hope you feel it was, because it's getting worse. I hope you're not too broken from Sacrifice's beating, because we don't have the privilege of having two people anymore. No, at Legacy, John, it'll be three. That's the next hurdle. That's the next challenge before becoming the champion you want to be. And you are so very welcome, John! No other competitor in this fatal four-way match will have prior experience fighting off more than one guy. So, because of me, you're now at an advantage. What's one more guy? It's just another pair of boots. When four are coming down on your jaw, what's a couple more, right? That's the spirit!
What, in fact, is one more guy. What's one more drowned rat from a floating heap of garbage? What's one more night sleeping on a cold, wet, floor? What's one more rotten bite from a meal found in the trash? What's one more scabbing bruise?
You see, Tolly, we are out of privileges. At Legacy, your challenge is not just tougher. We are not just adding worthless carcasses. We are adding my worthless carcass. That's right. That's the official line-up. It's John Tolly, Cliff Clinton, Alioth Starre, and the one and only, walking, talking, worthless piece of trash, Kevin Evel, all within the squared-circle, looking to capture that Invictus Championship title shot.
Let me be honest with you, John. I don't want it. I don't care about that stuff. Titles, records, rankings, ratings: I could go on forever, because frankly, I only care about a couple things, and those are not it. I would be just fine leaving everything else to you. What I get out of a match like this is something of a different topic for another time, because right now, this is your moment. This is your time to seize the opportunity, and there is simply no better place to help you accomplish this than being within the ropes with you.
Think of it as a man in your corner, rooting you on, except I won't be in the corner. I'll be in the ring, and I won't really be cheering out loud. I'll be driving my fist down your throat, but trust me when I tell you how similar that all is. How else would I know, Tolly? How else would I know for sure that you could handle the challenges the await you along this path than putting you to the test myself? How else would I know that you could withstand the beating unless I pushed you to the limit? How else would I know you could tear off KLB's god-damn head unless I personally sunk you so low and so vicious, I wouldn't have a doubt in my mind?
I have to be there and I have to do this – for you, John. What type of person would I be, if I told you I was going to help you, and then just not be there for you, when you needed me the most? I need to be there for you, inside the ring, pushing you on every step of the way. I need to be there to soften the blows of the challenges that await you before you reach the winner's circle. I need to be there for you, just in case your body breaks or your mind submits. I need to be there for you just in case you fail yourself – just in case you fail me. I need to be there, just in case I need to put you down.
I had only just introduced myself, John. I had only told you my name before you felt it was necessary to threaten me. So, let me take this moment to actually tell you who I am – what I am all about. My name is Kevin Evel and a lot of people will say I am a very bad person. I like hurting people. I like to kick at them until they stop moving. I like to watch them move slower and slower with every punch to the face. I like how the skin bruises and swells. I like to see how much blood pours out. I like to see where a person's breaking point is.
I am the shadow closest to the light. I am here only as a contrast. I am an opposite. I am the other side of the coin we are all part of and not worth the metal it was forged from. I am struggle and survival incarnate, if that's what you plan on doing. Otherwise – well, I think you get the picture.
John, I see you and I see somebody I can really believe will be a great champion. Imperial Wrestling needs a champion like you. They need someone as vicious and rotten as you have the potential of being. I see KLB and I see a scrawny, wiry, twig-person pretending to be champion. I see an actor with a script in his hand. I see him portraying a role. I see him playing a character. I see something very different than what I expect to be seeing. I should be seeing a predator, like you, John, but I don't. I should be seeing a specimen of human power and strength, like you, John, but I don't. I see something Imperial Wrestling doesn't need. I see something that needs to go away.
As a team, John, we can do that. I want to see a more vicious, more rotten, more vile, Imperial Wrestling, and you want his title. At the end of the day, we both get what we want. If everything goes according to plan, we both ride happy into the sunset. This all hinges, however, on whether or not you have it in you to go the whole way. This either happens or doesn't happen, and it depends on whether or not you are who you say you are.
So, imagine my place in this, John. I'm at the mercy of you. I am dependent on your success. I need you to go through with what you want to do. I need you, just like you need me. Isn't this the strangest of situations? I need you, John, and you need me. I mean, this world is truly the most odd and complex, if something like this can happen. How else would you describe this symbiosis? Parasitic? C'mon, John, spare me the compliments.
I need you to make this place a cesspool, John. That's my need in you, and honestly, my only need in you. You can have the championship title it brings you, but I don't need you to be a champion. Just be vicious and vile, that's all I need. If you can't do that, John, well then that'll be very disappointing, indeed. If you can't bring this place a little ugliness, then sadly, I have no need for you, and because you're here too, you would become part of the problem.
Ask Lance and ask Judas what happens when I become disappointed. I admit, it's not my most flattering trait. Ask them what it's like to be in the ring with me when my mood sours. Ask them to guess what I may do to you if you fall short of completing our work.
To say the least, you won't like it. You won't like it one bit, because the sort of guy I am – the type of person I am – knows how to truly hurt another person. Maybe it's from personal experience. Maybe I was just made this way. Either way, I have an uncanny knack of finding your darkest, deepest, wounds – those wounds you would never wish on your worst of enemies – and exposing them. I could break you, John. I don't want to, but I can. I could break your spirit and ruin the world around you. I could smash every last dream you had likes dishes to the floor. I could make you pack everything out of your locker and leave Imperial Wrestling for good. I could do it all, John. Trust me, I could. Just don't push me to it.
Don't believe me? Why would you? No one else here does! Allow me to tell you how it unfolds in detail. Allow me to look in my crystal ball if you fail me. Here's how that story goes:
Imagine this alternate time-line, John. Imagine a time and a place where we are standing in the ring at Legacy and we are in the middle of the match. Cliff Clinton would be unconscious. Alioth Starre would be somewhere unresponsive. All that there would be left to accomplish is simple climb up a ladder. The only thing stopping you from your title shot against KLB is six or seven steps more, but now is the time your body starts to break down. This ladder that is really only eight or so feet tall, starts to look like miles, and as you pull your body off the mat and onto the metal, you feel the sudden gravity against your shoulders. You struggle to climb up. First step – okay. Then the second – no problem. You go for the third and you barely convince your muscles to get you there. You crumble on that third rung, and your mind begins to spout doubts back at you a million per second and you do all you can to ignore them. You pull your head up, hoping to see that contract close, maybe within your reach, but it isn't. It's not even close. Those doubts in your head get louder and louder and it's harder to deny with every passing second, as every muscle begins to agree, freeze, and admit defeat. So there you are – finished. You're done. You gave it all you had but fell short.
In this mirror world, John, this is where things go from bad to catastrophic. Believe me when I tell you, if I find you can't get that contract, for your sake I hope you're not hanging on top of a ladder, defenseless. I hope you're not in a precarious position, sitting high above a concrete floor, because if you're going to disappoint me, I am going to bring you so much pain and suffering.
If your body gives out, John, expect two things. Expect a long, hard, crash back down to earth and expect to see the contract in my hands instead. But why, I can imagine you asking. I don't care one bit about that stuff, you'll continue, and you'd be right. Why wouldn't I just settle for putting you in a hospital? Why wouldn't that be enough? Because that would be taking it too easy on you.
In this world, John – in this world where you hurt me – I hurt you back ten fold. Not only would I steal the contract right out of your hands, I would go on to face KLB instead of you. Then, you'll have the utmost pleasure of watching me pummel that little turd into the mat until nothing was left of his stupid, little, face. And when those three long seconds chime that ring bell, your heart can sink down into your stomach. I will be the Invictus Champion instead of you. I will have what you wanted so desperately. I will have the one thing you've ever wanted, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you could never have it. I value that championship and that belt none, but the fact you want it so much suddenly raises it's stock a bit. Because you couldn't give me what I wanted, I'll make sure you'll never get what you want.
How would the sting, John? How would it truly hurt you to see me lord that over you, knowing you could never get it from me? Pretty badly, I would guess. Much worse than just getting a simple beat-down because your tag partner turned his back on you, yes? Good, now we are starting to see things on the same wavelength. Now we are beginning to understand each other. See how little and trivial things look now? See how much worse they can all be?
I hope you do, John. I hope you see how bad things things can go from here. You're at the cusp of complete success or utter annihilation, so I hope you tell the difference. You need me, John, and I need you. I can see that, and I hope you do too. You won't ever get where you want without me, John. I hope you know that. I hope you know you need me –
Because I am coming to Legacy and I am necessary.
That's the question everyone is asking me. That's what's on the tip of everyone's tongue, yet I have a question to ask the world for myself.
Why – no – how? How are you so surprised? How are you so stupid and so ignorant to suspect anything else from me? How did you actually deceive yourself so much? Don't answer that: it's rhetorical. Instead, let me reveal my hand and give you the answers you so desperately want to hear. I'll do this for you because I am a giving person – a giver – and I have no secrets worth keeping. I don't care who hears me. I don't care who knows. You, Tolly, anyone else: it makes no matter to me.
I did what I did to Tolly because that's exactly what he needed. He needed that. He needed to be fed to the wolves and he needed those wolves to rip him to shreds. He needed that, because he wasn't going to listen to me. I have to prove it. I had to show it to him, or rather, allow him to show himself, because the alternative is so much worse.
The other road is so much more painful. I'm a man of mercy, and I see where Tolly's path will take him. He wants KLB, and that's fine. He wants his Invictus Championship, and that's okay too. In fact, I totally can see his desire becoming a reality. Tolly can do it and I'd love to see him do it. He's smart guy with tons of talent, and the worst thing KLB can do for this reign as a champion is to take a guy like Tolly for granted, but I can also see Tolly ruining it for himself.
I see Tolly's confidence getting the best of him. I see him blinded and delusional, high on his own stash. I see him taking on the champion without a care in the world, and when the title is right there, just within finger's reach, he misses it. It grazes his fingertips and then it darts away – far, far, away – and never comes back. He'll look down to his hands and wonder what happened. How did it go so wrong so fast? What did he miss?
That road – that painful, gut-wrenching, road – that's where he's headed. That's the path he walks. I'd like to believe he doesn't mean to. He just doesn't know any better. He doesn't see it like I do, but that's okay. I am here for him. I'll show him what I see and what I know. I'll show him the other way. It's not painless, but it's sure as hell less painful than the road he's on. He needs me to show him the way to become a champion.
That's the why you're looking for. That's the why you want to hear. The answer to the question you can't stop asking is that: I am helping John Tolly win the Invinctus title. I am helping him from screwing himself over. I am grounding him – showing him – how far he needs to go to beat someone of KLB's caliber. I am showing him how far down he needs to sink. I am showing him how far away he is from his goal, at this very second. He needs me. He needs my help so he can see what he needs to do to become a champion or else... it just doesn't happen.
Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them in the skull with a sledgehammer – you have to ruin their world – and then you'll find you have their strict attention. That's what I did. I could have just tried talking to Tolly. I could have cornered him in a room and told him the whole story, and in fact, in a way, that's what I did before the tag match. I tried talking to him, something very uncharacteristic of me. I guess I just like the guy that much. I believe in him that much. I tried to get through to him, but did you see what happened? I was nearly thrown on my head just for trying to help. Surely, nice guys always finish last.
So, I laughed. I laughed at the fool for his foolish ways. I laughed in the face of his ignorance then and I was privileged to laugh again later on that night. The cocky and confident Tolly brushed me off and wanted things done his way. So, sure, let's do it his way. Let's see where this road leads us. What's the worst that can happen? Tolly wrestles the match and fights against the strength of two men. That alone is something of a feat to commend, if he would have actually followed through, but as we all saw, he couldn't finish the job. He was over his head, as would anyone. I would be too in his shoes, but then again, I would never be in his shoes. He was in danger and he needed help. He needed a chance to catch his breath. He needed a second to recuperate.
He needed me.
He knew it. I knew it. The whole world knew it, but we weren't on the easy road. We were on the road familiar to John. Tolly knew best and he was leading the way, but then we all saw what happened. Suddenly, conjuring all the questions in the world, we all found what that road let to. Suddenly, it was all clear what happens when you don't have my help. Judas and Alioth came onto him like hungry wolves and torn him asunder. I laughed as they picked the meat off his bones.
So, John, let me ask you direct: do you think that's the worst it gets? Do you think fighting against two men at once is the very worst you'll see on your path to becoming a new champion? Let me tell you, if you're feeling broken and overwhelmed now – if you feel defeated now – then take this tip: give up. Give up now, before you sink further over your head. Give up before you really hurt yourself. Give up now before you really break your own heart. Because, John, getting your ass kicked by a couple clowns is nothing and should be nothing to a champion. I hope you realize that, because it gets much, much, worse than this. You have to withstand so much more. You have sink so much lower for you to come out the other side as a champion.
Two people, Tolly? Getting your face kicked in by two people was a warm up, or so I hope you feel it was, because it's getting worse. I hope you're not too broken from Sacrifice's beating, because we don't have the privilege of having two people anymore. No, at Legacy, John, it'll be three. That's the next hurdle. That's the next challenge before becoming the champion you want to be. And you are so very welcome, John! No other competitor in this fatal four-way match will have prior experience fighting off more than one guy. So, because of me, you're now at an advantage. What's one more guy? It's just another pair of boots. When four are coming down on your jaw, what's a couple more, right? That's the spirit!
What, in fact, is one more guy. What's one more drowned rat from a floating heap of garbage? What's one more night sleeping on a cold, wet, floor? What's one more rotten bite from a meal found in the trash? What's one more scabbing bruise?
You see, Tolly, we are out of privileges. At Legacy, your challenge is not just tougher. We are not just adding worthless carcasses. We are adding my worthless carcass. That's right. That's the official line-up. It's John Tolly, Cliff Clinton, Alioth Starre, and the one and only, walking, talking, worthless piece of trash, Kevin Evel, all within the squared-circle, looking to capture that Invictus Championship title shot.
Let me be honest with you, John. I don't want it. I don't care about that stuff. Titles, records, rankings, ratings: I could go on forever, because frankly, I only care about a couple things, and those are not it. I would be just fine leaving everything else to you. What I get out of a match like this is something of a different topic for another time, because right now, this is your moment. This is your time to seize the opportunity, and there is simply no better place to help you accomplish this than being within the ropes with you.
Think of it as a man in your corner, rooting you on, except I won't be in the corner. I'll be in the ring, and I won't really be cheering out loud. I'll be driving my fist down your throat, but trust me when I tell you how similar that all is. How else would I know, Tolly? How else would I know for sure that you could handle the challenges the await you along this path than putting you to the test myself? How else would I know that you could withstand the beating unless I pushed you to the limit? How else would I know you could tear off KLB's god-damn head unless I personally sunk you so low and so vicious, I wouldn't have a doubt in my mind?
I have to be there and I have to do this – for you, John. What type of person would I be, if I told you I was going to help you, and then just not be there for you, when you needed me the most? I need to be there for you, inside the ring, pushing you on every step of the way. I need to be there to soften the blows of the challenges that await you before you reach the winner's circle. I need to be there for you, just in case your body breaks or your mind submits. I need to be there for you just in case you fail yourself – just in case you fail me. I need to be there, just in case I need to put you down.
I had only just introduced myself, John. I had only told you my name before you felt it was necessary to threaten me. So, let me take this moment to actually tell you who I am – what I am all about. My name is Kevin Evel and a lot of people will say I am a very bad person. I like hurting people. I like to kick at them until they stop moving. I like to watch them move slower and slower with every punch to the face. I like how the skin bruises and swells. I like to see how much blood pours out. I like to see where a person's breaking point is.
I am the shadow closest to the light. I am here only as a contrast. I am an opposite. I am the other side of the coin we are all part of and not worth the metal it was forged from. I am struggle and survival incarnate, if that's what you plan on doing. Otherwise – well, I think you get the picture.
John, I see you and I see somebody I can really believe will be a great champion. Imperial Wrestling needs a champion like you. They need someone as vicious and rotten as you have the potential of being. I see KLB and I see a scrawny, wiry, twig-person pretending to be champion. I see an actor with a script in his hand. I see him portraying a role. I see him playing a character. I see something very different than what I expect to be seeing. I should be seeing a predator, like you, John, but I don't. I should be seeing a specimen of human power and strength, like you, John, but I don't. I see something Imperial Wrestling doesn't need. I see something that needs to go away.
As a team, John, we can do that. I want to see a more vicious, more rotten, more vile, Imperial Wrestling, and you want his title. At the end of the day, we both get what we want. If everything goes according to plan, we both ride happy into the sunset. This all hinges, however, on whether or not you have it in you to go the whole way. This either happens or doesn't happen, and it depends on whether or not you are who you say you are.
So, imagine my place in this, John. I'm at the mercy of you. I am dependent on your success. I need you to go through with what you want to do. I need you, just like you need me. Isn't this the strangest of situations? I need you, John, and you need me. I mean, this world is truly the most odd and complex, if something like this can happen. How else would you describe this symbiosis? Parasitic? C'mon, John, spare me the compliments.
I need you to make this place a cesspool, John. That's my need in you, and honestly, my only need in you. You can have the championship title it brings you, but I don't need you to be a champion. Just be vicious and vile, that's all I need. If you can't do that, John, well then that'll be very disappointing, indeed. If you can't bring this place a little ugliness, then sadly, I have no need for you, and because you're here too, you would become part of the problem.
Ask Lance and ask Judas what happens when I become disappointed. I admit, it's not my most flattering trait. Ask them what it's like to be in the ring with me when my mood sours. Ask them to guess what I may do to you if you fall short of completing our work.
To say the least, you won't like it. You won't like it one bit, because the sort of guy I am – the type of person I am – knows how to truly hurt another person. Maybe it's from personal experience. Maybe I was just made this way. Either way, I have an uncanny knack of finding your darkest, deepest, wounds – those wounds you would never wish on your worst of enemies – and exposing them. I could break you, John. I don't want to, but I can. I could break your spirit and ruin the world around you. I could smash every last dream you had likes dishes to the floor. I could make you pack everything out of your locker and leave Imperial Wrestling for good. I could do it all, John. Trust me, I could. Just don't push me to it.
Don't believe me? Why would you? No one else here does! Allow me to tell you how it unfolds in detail. Allow me to look in my crystal ball if you fail me. Here's how that story goes:
Imagine this alternate time-line, John. Imagine a time and a place where we are standing in the ring at Legacy and we are in the middle of the match. Cliff Clinton would be unconscious. Alioth Starre would be somewhere unresponsive. All that there would be left to accomplish is simple climb up a ladder. The only thing stopping you from your title shot against KLB is six or seven steps more, but now is the time your body starts to break down. This ladder that is really only eight or so feet tall, starts to look like miles, and as you pull your body off the mat and onto the metal, you feel the sudden gravity against your shoulders. You struggle to climb up. First step – okay. Then the second – no problem. You go for the third and you barely convince your muscles to get you there. You crumble on that third rung, and your mind begins to spout doubts back at you a million per second and you do all you can to ignore them. You pull your head up, hoping to see that contract close, maybe within your reach, but it isn't. It's not even close. Those doubts in your head get louder and louder and it's harder to deny with every passing second, as every muscle begins to agree, freeze, and admit defeat. So there you are – finished. You're done. You gave it all you had but fell short.
In this mirror world, John, this is where things go from bad to catastrophic. Believe me when I tell you, if I find you can't get that contract, for your sake I hope you're not hanging on top of a ladder, defenseless. I hope you're not in a precarious position, sitting high above a concrete floor, because if you're going to disappoint me, I am going to bring you so much pain and suffering.
If your body gives out, John, expect two things. Expect a long, hard, crash back down to earth and expect to see the contract in my hands instead. But why, I can imagine you asking. I don't care one bit about that stuff, you'll continue, and you'd be right. Why wouldn't I just settle for putting you in a hospital? Why wouldn't that be enough? Because that would be taking it too easy on you.
In this world, John – in this world where you hurt me – I hurt you back ten fold. Not only would I steal the contract right out of your hands, I would go on to face KLB instead of you. Then, you'll have the utmost pleasure of watching me pummel that little turd into the mat until nothing was left of his stupid, little, face. And when those three long seconds chime that ring bell, your heart can sink down into your stomach. I will be the Invictus Champion instead of you. I will have what you wanted so desperately. I will have the one thing you've ever wanted, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you could never have it. I value that championship and that belt none, but the fact you want it so much suddenly raises it's stock a bit. Because you couldn't give me what I wanted, I'll make sure you'll never get what you want.
How would the sting, John? How would it truly hurt you to see me lord that over you, knowing you could never get it from me? Pretty badly, I would guess. Much worse than just getting a simple beat-down because your tag partner turned his back on you, yes? Good, now we are starting to see things on the same wavelength. Now we are beginning to understand each other. See how little and trivial things look now? See how much worse they can all be?
I hope you do, John. I hope you see how bad things things can go from here. You're at the cusp of complete success or utter annihilation, so I hope you tell the difference. You need me, John, and I need you. I can see that, and I hope you do too. You won't ever get where you want without me, John. I hope you know that. I hope you know you need me –
Because I am coming to Legacy and I am necessary.
Well howdy there pardner.