Masks (Part 1 of 2)

Episode Twelve

Subject: Angelus

Date recorded: 2/19/13

Location: Unknown

"Masks"

***

Here we are again, good old Houston, Texas.

This is the site of the 12/12/12 pay-per-view in case anyone forgot.

The story goes like this -- after I disposed of Ursula and Yan the Drunken Master himself a couple goons decided to jump me in the middle of the ring.

Knocked me around pretty good.

You see it's fitting as I've been going up against it since I walked into this company.

Whether it was from Carver, or Michael James, that asshat Tristan Slater, or the new bimbo on the block Lexi Sheckler. 

It doesn't matter.

Time and time again I've battled back and proven that I am not going anywhere.

Angelus, my friends, is stronger than death.

I've now been Xtreme champion for 21 days.

Let that sink in, fellas.

No one is taking this belt off me, so give me the briefcase, or whatever other prize you have kicking around in the back.

I'm going straight to the top.

Mark Flynn wants to tout he's the "Best wrestler in the world"

Good for him. Stamp that on a t-shirt, Marky.

I'm sure it'll sell out in no time.

How about you stop making excuses about how you don't need anyone? 

Better yet, or how everyone has it in for you, and instead you just show up and not be a sniveling baby for once. 

Can we try that?

And I've said it before, but I'll remind you again, you want to take this US title back so bad, why don't you just come and ask nicely for it?

I'm right here.

Office door is open.

No appointment necessary.

Your call, Mark.

Moving on…

Mr. Satellite everybody!

Also known as Pete Gilmour's short bus riding buddy.

For those keeping track at home, our mutual friend Mr. Satellite is a burlap sack wearing idiot savant who runs around talking in riddles.

Real life of the party.

But...

Yet again no one has heard a peep or a squeak out of XWF's favorite handicap wrestler. 

Where you been, Satty?

Hanging out talking to the robot police?

How about this, why don't you hover that satellite in around reality and get yourself ready for the ass kicking of a lifetime.

It's nothing personal.

You probably don't even realize that we're in a main event together.

But this is the big stage, Satty, and your number has been called.

Let's raise the stakes a little shall we?

I want to know what type of coward you are that you wear a mask.

What's under there?

Understand that when you step into the ring with me on Warfare that we're at war and I have no sympathy for you.

So face me like a man.

Take the mask off and let the world see your true face.

Or…

You can go back to being a coward.

Talking to robots and eating out of the trash.

Your call, Satty.

I do regret to inform you however that even though Mark Flynn thinks he's the best…

…he's not.

I'm the best.

And you can bring one arm, two arms, a third mutated arm, whatever you got.

It won't matter, Mr. Satellite.

You just don't have what it takes.

---

---