*I arrived to the town, and booked into a shitty hotel. My first paycheck hasn't come yet, so I have to play it safe with the funds. I've almost drawn out all my other accounts...you can't live on old money forever. I lounged on my bed for a moment, dropping a quarter in the Magic Fingers, when suddenly, there's a rapping on my door. Nobody knows I'm here...so I play it safe by grabbing the nearest heavy object...which for me, turns out to be the phonebook. You can do tons of damage with a phonebook, and few are as creative as me. I go to the door, and look out the eye hole, but here's nobody around. I open up the door completely, waiting for some maniac to ambush me with a sock full of pennies, but there's not a soul to be seen. I step out into the hall, but I step on something hard...a videocassette. I lock up, and pop it into the VCR, unprepared for what it is I'm seeing...and unprepared for the tears of sheer laughter that roll down my cheeks as the tape rolls to a close.*

-The camera turns on, showing an empty chair with a table beside it. Sitting on top of the table is a glass of iced water. From behind the camera, the Messiah walks toward the chair and hunkers down, smiling to himself, and trying to conceal a chuckle.-

Messiah: Eric Nash, I've been reviewed your words, and I must agree with you. No. You most indubitably are NOT smart. Witnessing your antics on-camera, I am led to question why you became a wrestler at all. If cheap sluts and bad blowjobs are all you desire, why perform in the ring? You're not taking any lengths to better yourself. Instead of screwing your dog...err...girlfriend monster thing, why not lift weights, or jog ten miles. The cardio work will do you good, and you look like you could use a spot of toning. Must be all that sitting around all day, thumb firmly planted in your posterior doing nothing but getting your dick sucked. As far as me being jealous, all I have to say is...jealous of what? I was a revered evangelist. Well, I didn't do tent revivals or pump that judeau-christian nonsense into people's skulls, but I WAS the leader of a fine cult. People came from all over the world to hear me...I was bigger than LaVey or Crowley. If you don't think some fine imports stayed after the sermon to see what kind of a man I was under the covers, you must have the intelligence of a lemming. I was with some real beauties, but don't get me wrong...I don't miss it. It was a distraction. I've found something better than sex...it's called the thrill of competition. I took time off from preaching and the things I used to love to do to perform in the ring, and build up to the physique I have at the moment. That's how I fell out of favor with the cultists...too much time staying in tip-top condition, not enough time preparing the lessons. I did both, but not as successfully as I could have if I focused on one alone. Ultimately, I failed at both, and ended up preaching to a gaggle of bums in a run-down fake cathedral. The door swings both ways, though...as easily as I failed, I can surely pick up the pieces and begin again. no use in wasting time dwelling on it, eh?

-The Messiah lifts the cup from its position on the table, and thoughtfully takes a swig, swirling the cup so the ice clanks together for a moment.-

Messiah: I suppose I've talked enough about myself. I shouldn't have to explain that to a lowly idiotic simpleton such as yourself in the first place. Honestly, I cannot believe why you'd put yourself on a higher standard than me. What would I have to be jealous about? You spend your day loafing and whining at the lowly camera operator, and bragging about some butt-ugly woman who you claim to be your future wife. Oh yeah...there's no need to worry about ME touching her...she lacks nearly ALL the qualifications required to be in my personal harem, should I ever find the desire to start another one. You're overly defensive. After all, if you're so grand, and I'M so lowly, why should you care about my opinion in the first place? Allow me to offer you this theory: your ego is bruised by my comments, and you are starting to realize just how great you *aren't*, so you need to cut a promo to sort-of have a heart-to-heart talk with yourself, so you can place yourself back at the top of your pedestal you and your slut imagined. Trust me, if you ask around, you will, indeed, realize that EVERY person is "the best" according to them, and this pedestal of yours is as high as everyone else's. In other words...your feet never left the ground...it's only your head that is in the clouds. Such is the stupidity of youth.

-the Messiah takes another sip of water, only in mid sip, he chuckles to himself. he takes the water away from his lips and waits until he is done, then finishes taking a drink.-

Messiah: I almost forgot to bring this up, but since I got back to the topic of stupidity and how you wear it like a glove...the Hemicuda (the vehicle which I so happen to drive, and you so happened to call a "piece of shit") just may be the best muscle car ever created. Check it out:

Not that you'd have tastes refined enough to tell anything better than a mediocre blowjob, but unlike you, I am a man of class...even as a broken down bum I still remain a connoisseur. Not much can be said about your tastes, except that you have no taste in women, you wouldn't know a keen car if it ran you over at a hundred-twenty miles an hour, and your ideas of "relaxing" are quite droll. In short, not only am I facing a twit at Balls to the Wall...I'm facing an INEPT twit who doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. Don't worry, little boy. The only thing you'll have to figure out come the Pay-Per-View is how to look up at the lights and let the referee count to three.

-The Messiah stands up, downs his glass of water, then strolls over to the camera to turn it off.-

*I finished my promo and had to chuckle to myself. Another punk kid who thinks he's king shit going to bring something to the table that I haven't already seen. How original. What these kids don't know is that I've already seen it all, and they are nothing but old hat. Oh well...let them think what they will. Their mind is their prison...it's not worth the time and effort to try and save them...*