M U S T C O M E D O W N | lethal lottery
Sept 17, 2016 5:00:24 GMT
Valentina Lemay, Ernie Parker, and 1 more like this
Post by Finn Whelan on Sept 17, 2016 5:00:24 GMT
Pro-Wrestling Insider Magazine: Online
Published: September 16th, 2016
M U S T C O M E D O W N
by: Terry Jackson
The professional wrestling scene is always ever omniscient, ever-changing and ever present. In a world where we no longer believe in fabricated, fantastical story lines where monsters can be made even more sinister, females can become femme fetales, and even the most unlikely of men could appear in this athletic event for the entertainment of all kinds, we still find ourselves with new start-up companies that seem to take on minds of their own. It seems the most important tactic in all of professional wrestling now isn't based entirely on the performance of the athletes who allow themselves their bodies to be broken every night for the sake of the fans, but is primarily the promotional video. How well can you desecrate an opponent in ten minutes or less? What are all the things you can sit down and say that won't become repetitive day in and day out? It leaves some of us sitting back and wondering what the state of affairs is in this sport. Are we meant to deal with sycophants who perpetrate chaos day in and day out, talking shit and hoping to step into the big leagues? Or is this meant to be about the sport itself: the dedication, the skill and the fight that men and women in this business seek out every day?
I personally cannot answer that.
In September, a new promotion burst out onto the scene with a penchant for greatness. Epic Online Wrestling is a new startup headed by Kathleen Saxon, a shrewd business woman with a mind for the business that her husband, Hank Saxon, devoted his life to. The promotion began immediately with two brands: the electrified and action-packed Livewire, which just debuted on the 15th anniversary of the September Eleventh terrorist attacks, and the heavily anticipated Victory, a show that will now fight for dominance in Manhattan's very own historical venue, The Manhattan Centre. For their opening debuts, the two brands have dubbed their tournament the "Lethal Lottery", in which competitors will face off against an unknown member of the roster they discover the identity of that very night. Eight participants were selected from the roster, yet only four can advance.
During Livewire, the crowed champions of Aidan Carlisle and Ash Scion reigned supreme over their counterparts, shocking some and allowing awe to be present. Now, Victory attempts to create their own set of champions. The losers of the Lethal Lottery will compete, in the same night, in The Redemption Challenge, crowning the Internet Championship winner that night in a cage match. The winners will move on into a tournament-style, adrenaline-fueled battle over the next few weeks to crown the first ever Ultimate Champion at EPIC I.
It will be a ride not for the faint of heart. We had the opportunity to sit down, with Victory Roster Member Finn Whelan, and gather what he believes will be the outcome of the match, the future of the company, and most importantly, what words he might want to share with his counterparts. I'm pleased to report that he didn't seem to hold back; not one bit.
Finn's lip curled up slightly, but it wasn't much. I could see, though, that there was a lot of his emotions reserved for Aaron herself, even with her nose stuck into something that had nothing to do with him. However, I knew my time was precious, and after a few baseline questions, I was able to begin.
TERRY JACKSON (TJ): Over the past couple of months, it seems to have been a tumultuous ride for you, Finn.
FINN WHELAN: True. Between moving and starting here on Victory, I haven't had much time to think. But that's what happens when you get caught in a whirlwind like the one this has been.
TJ: I believe it. Now, I guess first things first . . . what made you decide EOW? What brought you to this company?
WHELAN: Contracts were being offered before I left Honor Wrestling late last month. I'd been contemplating leaving Honor for quite some time, but wasn't quite sure how to do so when I was in a tournament. I saw some irresponsible booking, some favoritism -- I wasn't impressed by the persons lorded up as prominent crowd sellers, and their definition of a 'legend' was anyone that seemed to sleep with the boss on both sides of the coin. I can't say that I'm pleased I lost to whom I did, but honestly, it probably was a good thing, as it opened my eyes to the politics of this business. When I saw the contract for Epic Online Wrestling, I instantly thought, "Yeah, this is the one". Met with Valentina the next day, and then the contract was written and out on the roster I went. It was thrilling to see that my bosses have heard of me and wanted me on the roster. I've made some name for myself.
TJ: You know how prominent social media is these days.
WHELAN: [rolls eyes]
TJ: [laughs] I would agree for the most part. Whenever your name pops up these days, it seems that some of the roster at Honor takes offense.
WHELAN: The fact that my name is still what is on their lips nearly a month after my departure isn't my desire, to be honest. I'd be happy to leave that place in the dirt, but since people seem to open their mouths on what they don't know, the rumor that was perpetrated that I left primarily because I lost is complete and utter bullshit. They can continue to believe it all they like, but I ain't entertaining it. The only interaction I have left with the company is to see a former friend succeed. Beyond that, I care very little, as my focus is on this week's Victory. I have more things on my plate to deal with than rumors. Or bantering with weed-ridden idiots on Twitter.
TJ: Speaking of Mysti, she seemed to have some choice words for you.
WHELAN: Ah, yes. Mysti Savage. I think what I heard was that I'm trying to get up into Felix's twat or some shit, like every other male in this business; despite the fact that I'm happily married to a wonderful woman. There are a lot of things that could be shared about Miss Savage, and to be honest, whatever she thinks herself to be is hardly as badass as she portrays. I've never seen a more contradictory, hell-bent, immature and downright dumbfucked as Mysti. I've never personally seen someone was oblivious as she is; then again, I haven't been wrestling longer than a year. Here's the honest truth, though: the reason none of us see her as fighting with any of us is that the effort she puts in is about the same as the cost she spends on her weed: very little. When she tries to hang with the big kids and fight with words, she often comes out to look like a child. You cannot honestly post a suggestive picture of a person who looks like they're sucking dick, and then try to backpedal and claim that someone else is childish for calling them out.
TJ: That really seemed to piss you off.
WHELAN: For about thirty seconds -- which was literally how long it took to watch her babble on a screen. Mysti is a fun-loving personality, but when she gets ridiculed, she can't handle it. When we have to sit here and tear each other down, it really isn't all that hard to do. If I get the chance to step in the ring with her on Sunday, it's not going to be a game. She's going to come at me with . . . I don't honestly know what the fuck she does, but it'll be something pathetic and downright disgusting, just like literally every little thing she tries on Twitter, in her Promotional Videos, and quite frankly, her goddamned life. She's a former webcam model -- that is literally how desperate she is to have any form of attention on her. She claims it's art, but I can count on one hand how many people I know that would want to see someone that doesn't wash their hair on a regular basis, has god-fucking-awful tattoos covering her body, and a flabby ass laying smack dab in the middle of their coffee table. Because they don't, and because that isn't art. But art will be the bloody mess she's left in after I'm through with her. She's not going to want in the Redemption Challenge if she faces me, because she's not going to have much of a will to continue on. She can hit me all she likes with her power shots and her aerial attacks . . . I'm still going to come out on top because resiliency and the ability to outlast means more than how much a person can hit you. Eventually, she's going to get tired, and I'm just going to be bored with her attempts to continue the match -- just like everyone is with her thirty-second promo.
TJ: Okay, so what about the other participants? There's eight of you. People like Bryan Williams, Jason Kaine--
WHELAN: AH! Kaine. [laughs] Kaine makes me want to cry for sympathy every time I see him, because I know he won't be here long in the end, since he won't be moving on.
TJ: What makes you think that?
WHELAN: Have you seen the dude? One minute, he's claiming victory because he's so badass and trying to put the roster on notice, and the next . . . he's proclaiming that all of the shit he's done, all of the . . . what was it, 'digging up dusty, old championship belts and trophies' and 'listing past accomplishments' . . . he claims none of it matters. Nothing he's done up to this point matters because it's a new company. Most of the time, I have to sit down and try to figure out why I deserve to be where I'm at, why I'm sitting the position I'm in. People have, of course, heard of my accomplishments, and they've heard of my failures. All of my prior accomplishments, wins, losses . . . apparently, according to Kaine, is that they 'don't mean shit'. I have a hard time buying that fallacy, because everything you do is considered a piece toAt t your credibility. A credible wrestler never puts down what they have had, or what they don't know. But then, then . . . this dude gets to talking some more, and claims that none of us belong in his sport, his business. We're all the lowest forms of primordial ooze, or whatever the fuck.
At this point in the interview, Finn seems amused.
WHELAN: Are you fucking kidding me? This man goes from saying he's basically an incredible -- and I don't mean amazing -- wrestler, to stating that we're the weakest forms on the face of the planet. Bro, I've heard of you, I've seen you, and you're nothing but a waste of my goddamned time. Look at you, a permanent scowl on your face and the second someone looks at your wife in any way, shape, or form, you go fuckin' ballistic. All I have to do is put you in to a headlock one too many times and you're going down. You're significantly slower than me, and though I ain't gonna be throwing punches, I'm going to be outsmarting your every step in that ring. Of course, that's if you face me. I would hate to go down to someone like Mysti -- that would make you less than primordial ooze. Less than anything else. Then what are you gonna do? Walk? Pussyfoot around and walk out of the company because you didn't move on? Pathetic.
TJ: So that's two down . . . five more to go.
WHELAN: Oh, how about the Super Special One? Jack Owyns. Man, the vocabulary this dick has is fuckin' amazing. So fuckin' awesome -- I mean, I'm just fuckin' frightened about every fuckin' little thing that's said every fuckin' minute. Really fuckin' scared me. I'm fuckin' shitting in my pants in fear.
There was silence after this statement; Whelan sat there with a stoic look on his face. Clearly, he wasn't fazed.
WHELAN: For fuck's sake, there's something better to listen to than an angry thirty-one year old bitch about his life in fifteen minutes that I can't get back. There's also something to be said about gaining a vocabulary -- 'fuck' is an amazing word that can be used as any part of speech, but there's only so much people can take before they stop listening. I won't lie, there are parts I've agreed with him on, but Owyns isn't the shit. He never will be the shit, and he needs to start thinking about what he can do to actually prove to be a changed man, or at least . . . a decent athlete. Two hundred and fifty four pounds of brawn does nothing for ring intelligence, something he may be slightly more intelligent with, but in the end, it'll fail. Just like the rest. Because you know what will happen? One fuckin' headlock. One. He'll be down and out for the rest of the match. His game plan is simple: piss me off. But honestly, when you have the vocabulary of a sixteen year old and the attitude of a five year old, do you really think that shit is going to piss me off? Do you really think that I'm going to fall to your shitty antics? Nah. Because unlike you, I may have less composure, but I definitely have more focus. None of you fuckers realize that I'm not a wrestler. I didn't wake up one morning as a wee little lad and decide my goal in life was to be a wrestler. I'll take off your motherfuckin' face when you piss me off -- and that, Owyns, isn't something that is likely. The only person still digging himself into a hole is you. Now, why don't you go toddle on off back to Mondae and Arianny. I'm sure they miss their favorite playtoy.
TJ: Here's one as well . . . Connor Jacobs.
WHELAN: Haven't liked the fucker from the start.
Another round of silence.
WHELAN: [sigh] Connor Jacobs is one that seems to still think he's God's gift to something, and yet, I quite haven't figured out that something. He hasn't struck a nerve . . . in fact, he hasn't done quite anything except for announce himself to be amazing when . . . no one has proof. Andrew Blake, a man even I know the name of, offers him a gig with him as his agent if he betrays his best bro by sleeping with his wife. Honestly, no one gives a fuck about The Adventures of Genevie and Elijah Carlson except people who suck in drama like toads eating flies. People clearly don't give a shit, and it's only that I'm mentioning it because I want to paint a picture of what Connor really is like. He thinks highly of himself, but has nothing to verify to the world that he's anything he says. He sticks his dick in anything with that walks with two legs; sitting back one day and thinking about it, yeah, the kid probably has some skills. He hits pretty hard, he's got some aerial techniques, but in the end, honestly no one gives a flying fuck. He can come in here and start rattling off thousands of words about his opponents, but really . . . what does he bring to the table? Is there anything interesting this guy does? But let me tell him something right now.
Finn looks partially irritated, partially furious at this point. I can tell that what he's about to say is going to be pretty detrimental.
WHELAN: You mention my wife ever again, and you're not going to have a dick to fuck with. You're not going to have a scalp to have hair, and you're not going to have a heart beating in your chest. You guys act as if pissing me off is going to throw me off my game -- if anything, it makes me more determined. I become a loose cannon, and honestly, I don't like you. I really don't care what happens to you, if you continue to live, if you continue to fucking breathe. Aaron Asphyxia will never be mentioned by you again, or I'll literally take a bullet to your brain. There is nothing I take more seriously than Aaron and the kid in the oven. There is nothing that I take more seriously than winning in this tournament, either. You can try to find your low blows to your roster. You can try to find what you can say to continue appearing to be a royal prick. But in the end, you're exactly like Mysti Savage: a sad, pathetic excuse of a human being who has yet to find any portion of life fulfilling, so you end up shoving your dick in the next glory hole down the road and getting a high off of it. No one gives a shit about you, not one person on this roster believes you to be a threat. You use the assholes around you to gain notoriety, and then act like your fame is your own doing. It's a shitty, pathetic existence, and I pity that you live the way you do. Additionally, I don't talk about my wife because my wife is not who is out there doing the actual fight, now is she? What does she have to contribute to this? Fuckin' nothing. And what do you have to contribute? Nothing. I can outlast you in a fight, and if we get stuck together, it's not going to be a match. It's going to be a fight, and that is where I fucking excel. There's no way you're heading past me, so get ready for the Redemption Challenge.
TJ: . . . so tell us how you really feel.
WHELAN: [laughs]
TJ: Since we're on a roll . . .
WHELAN: I'm gonna talk about Felix. There are a lot of good things I can say about Felix. She's vocal, she's outlandish, she does what she wants, and she doesn't give a royal fuck about anyone else. She has been a champion in the past, but is it honestly enough to push forward? I think it is, but at the same time, I don't really think Felix has the drive. She likes pretty things, but she also doesn't want to break a nail. What happens if I face her? Absolutely nothing, because I doubt it's going to happen. In the event it does, though . . . I want to make it perfectly clear that whatever alliance we've made is gone. It's a free-for-all, and I intend to win. I'm not going to be nice because she has a weave. I'm not going to be nice because she's a friend of the family. This is the exact same bullshit that happened when I faced Krys Jericho over a year ago. People thought I was going to go easy on her, but fuck no. She thought the same and ended up lying in the corner of the ring without a win. I don't play around, and people need to realize this shit. Felix is about the same speed as I am, but she's weak on her technique. We've worked together in the past, we've trained, and we've fought together. I can tell you right now this if we face one another, it will be a sight to see, and no one will want to miss it. Not here. Not now. But honestly . . . the championship is mine, and I'm not going to let someone who doesn't give a shit about this sport at all have even the slightest shot. Sorry Felix, but if it's between you and me . . . you're going down.
We pause again; Finn takes a sip of his coffee. Clearly, he's growing bored with this.
TJ: Anything else?
WHELAN: I really don't care about the rest. Bryan Williams tried coming in to make an impact, but I don't see him capitalizing like Aidan Carlisle did. Additionally, I don't think we can really take someone as boring as he is. I've watched him in 4CW and Boardwalk and I haven't been impressed -- these people paint themselves as glorious fighters that have no weaknesses. We all have weaknesses. Kind of like Matthew Page: you know if he faces Felix, he's not going to be able to ignore her ass. It'll cost him, just like undermining me will too. I'm really not interested in saying much here, because I've not been impressed, and I'm not interested. If Matthew gets up there, then I'll face him, but I honestly do not give a shit about his personality, his words, or anything he has to say. I guess what is last to say is that, out of all the competitors, I'm more resilient. I've got more focus, more endurance, and more defense. I don't play on the offensive -- I let you fuckers do that, and then I'll step into the fray and put you down. That championship, whether it is tomorrow, or it is in three weeks, will be mine. You can count on that. See you all on Victory, and whomever I face . . . sorry about your luck. Everything that goes up . . . must come down. And it won't be me.
Published: September 16th, 2016
M U S T C O M E D O W N
by: Terry Jackson
The professional wrestling scene is always ever omniscient, ever-changing and ever present. In a world where we no longer believe in fabricated, fantastical story lines where monsters can be made even more sinister, females can become femme fetales, and even the most unlikely of men could appear in this athletic event for the entertainment of all kinds, we still find ourselves with new start-up companies that seem to take on minds of their own. It seems the most important tactic in all of professional wrestling now isn't based entirely on the performance of the athletes who allow themselves their bodies to be broken every night for the sake of the fans, but is primarily the promotional video. How well can you desecrate an opponent in ten minutes or less? What are all the things you can sit down and say that won't become repetitive day in and day out? It leaves some of us sitting back and wondering what the state of affairs is in this sport. Are we meant to deal with sycophants who perpetrate chaos day in and day out, talking shit and hoping to step into the big leagues? Or is this meant to be about the sport itself: the dedication, the skill and the fight that men and women in this business seek out every day?
I personally cannot answer that.
In September, a new promotion burst out onto the scene with a penchant for greatness. Epic Online Wrestling is a new startup headed by Kathleen Saxon, a shrewd business woman with a mind for the business that her husband, Hank Saxon, devoted his life to. The promotion began immediately with two brands: the electrified and action-packed Livewire, which just debuted on the 15th anniversary of the September Eleventh terrorist attacks, and the heavily anticipated Victory, a show that will now fight for dominance in Manhattan's very own historical venue, The Manhattan Centre. For their opening debuts, the two brands have dubbed their tournament the "Lethal Lottery", in which competitors will face off against an unknown member of the roster they discover the identity of that very night. Eight participants were selected from the roster, yet only four can advance.
During Livewire, the crowed champions of Aidan Carlisle and Ash Scion reigned supreme over their counterparts, shocking some and allowing awe to be present. Now, Victory attempts to create their own set of champions. The losers of the Lethal Lottery will compete, in the same night, in The Redemption Challenge, crowning the Internet Championship winner that night in a cage match. The winners will move on into a tournament-style, adrenaline-fueled battle over the next few weeks to crown the first ever Ultimate Champion at EPIC I.
It will be a ride not for the faint of heart. We had the opportunity to sit down, with Victory Roster Member Finn Whelan, and gather what he believes will be the outcome of the match, the future of the company, and most importantly, what words he might want to share with his counterparts. I'm pleased to report that he didn't seem to hold back; not one bit.
••••
It was a blustery, but warm afternoon when I got to the coffee shop I was supposed to be at approximately fourteen minutes before. Traffic in New York is godawful, and getting out the city even more so. Driving to At first, I'd asked my subject to meet me in the City, but he told me it would be easier for himself if they could meet me here. I instantly became excited; over the years, I'd wanted to meet Finn Whelan's wife, Aaron Asphyxia, but never had a time, and then discovered that she hated giving interviews via magazine. But I remembered my goal; Whelan himself. Standing at six-foot-four, Finn wasn't exactly someone I could ignore, even slouched in his chair as he was when I'd entered the shop. He had his typical sullen expression on his face, a long-sleeved hooded shirt that read some obscure band draped across his torso, and a booted foot stuck out from underneath the table. When I made my way over and introduced myself, that annoyed expression didn't seem to change. Aaron, her face stuck in her Nintendo DS, informed me that his face was literally stuck that way, and not one damn word could change it.Finn's lip curled up slightly, but it wasn't much. I could see, though, that there was a lot of his emotions reserved for Aaron herself, even with her nose stuck into something that had nothing to do with him. However, I knew my time was precious, and after a few baseline questions, I was able to begin.
TERRY JACKSON (TJ): Over the past couple of months, it seems to have been a tumultuous ride for you, Finn.
FINN WHELAN: True. Between moving and starting here on Victory, I haven't had much time to think. But that's what happens when you get caught in a whirlwind like the one this has been.
TJ: I believe it. Now, I guess first things first . . . what made you decide EOW? What brought you to this company?
WHELAN: Contracts were being offered before I left Honor Wrestling late last month. I'd been contemplating leaving Honor for quite some time, but wasn't quite sure how to do so when I was in a tournament. I saw some irresponsible booking, some favoritism -- I wasn't impressed by the persons lorded up as prominent crowd sellers, and their definition of a 'legend' was anyone that seemed to sleep with the boss on both sides of the coin. I can't say that I'm pleased I lost to whom I did, but honestly, it probably was a good thing, as it opened my eyes to the politics of this business. When I saw the contract for Epic Online Wrestling, I instantly thought, "Yeah, this is the one". Met with Valentina the next day, and then the contract was written and out on the roster I went. It was thrilling to see that my bosses have heard of me and wanted me on the roster. I've made some name for myself.
TJ: You know how prominent social media is these days.
WHELAN: [rolls eyes]
TJ: [laughs] I would agree for the most part. Whenever your name pops up these days, it seems that some of the roster at Honor takes offense.
WHELAN: The fact that my name is still what is on their lips nearly a month after my departure isn't my desire, to be honest. I'd be happy to leave that place in the dirt, but since people seem to open their mouths on what they don't know, the rumor that was perpetrated that I left primarily because I lost is complete and utter bullshit. They can continue to believe it all they like, but I ain't entertaining it. The only interaction I have left with the company is to see a former friend succeed. Beyond that, I care very little, as my focus is on this week's Victory. I have more things on my plate to deal with than rumors. Or bantering with weed-ridden idiots on Twitter.
TJ: Speaking of Mysti, she seemed to have some choice words for you.
WHELAN: Ah, yes. Mysti Savage. I think what I heard was that I'm trying to get up into Felix's twat or some shit, like every other male in this business; despite the fact that I'm happily married to a wonderful woman. There are a lot of things that could be shared about Miss Savage, and to be honest, whatever she thinks herself to be is hardly as badass as she portrays. I've never seen a more contradictory, hell-bent, immature and downright dumbfucked as Mysti. I've never personally seen someone was oblivious as she is; then again, I haven't been wrestling longer than a year. Here's the honest truth, though: the reason none of us see her as fighting with any of us is that the effort she puts in is about the same as the cost she spends on her weed: very little. When she tries to hang with the big kids and fight with words, she often comes out to look like a child. You cannot honestly post a suggestive picture of a person who looks like they're sucking dick, and then try to backpedal and claim that someone else is childish for calling them out.
TJ: That really seemed to piss you off.
WHELAN: For about thirty seconds -- which was literally how long it took to watch her babble on a screen. Mysti is a fun-loving personality, but when she gets ridiculed, she can't handle it. When we have to sit here and tear each other down, it really isn't all that hard to do. If I get the chance to step in the ring with her on Sunday, it's not going to be a game. She's going to come at me with . . . I don't honestly know what the fuck she does, but it'll be something pathetic and downright disgusting, just like literally every little thing she tries on Twitter, in her Promotional Videos, and quite frankly, her goddamned life. She's a former webcam model -- that is literally how desperate she is to have any form of attention on her. She claims it's art, but I can count on one hand how many people I know that would want to see someone that doesn't wash their hair on a regular basis, has god-fucking-awful tattoos covering her body, and a flabby ass laying smack dab in the middle of their coffee table. Because they don't, and because that isn't art. But art will be the bloody mess she's left in after I'm through with her. She's not going to want in the Redemption Challenge if she faces me, because she's not going to have much of a will to continue on. She can hit me all she likes with her power shots and her aerial attacks . . . I'm still going to come out on top because resiliency and the ability to outlast means more than how much a person can hit you. Eventually, she's going to get tired, and I'm just going to be bored with her attempts to continue the match -- just like everyone is with her thirty-second promo.
TJ: Okay, so what about the other participants? There's eight of you. People like Bryan Williams, Jason Kaine--
WHELAN: AH! Kaine. [laughs] Kaine makes me want to cry for sympathy every time I see him, because I know he won't be here long in the end, since he won't be moving on.
TJ: What makes you think that?
WHELAN: Have you seen the dude? One minute, he's claiming victory because he's so badass and trying to put the roster on notice, and the next . . . he's proclaiming that all of the shit he's done, all of the . . . what was it, 'digging up dusty, old championship belts and trophies' and 'listing past accomplishments' . . . he claims none of it matters. Nothing he's done up to this point matters because it's a new company. Most of the time, I have to sit down and try to figure out why I deserve to be where I'm at, why I'm sitting the position I'm in. People have, of course, heard of my accomplishments, and they've heard of my failures. All of my prior accomplishments, wins, losses . . . apparently, according to Kaine, is that they 'don't mean shit'. I have a hard time buying that fallacy, because everything you do is considered a piece toAt t your credibility. A credible wrestler never puts down what they have had, or what they don't know. But then, then . . . this dude gets to talking some more, and claims that none of us belong in his sport, his business. We're all the lowest forms of primordial ooze, or whatever the fuck.
At this point in the interview, Finn seems amused.
WHELAN: Are you fucking kidding me? This man goes from saying he's basically an incredible -- and I don't mean amazing -- wrestler, to stating that we're the weakest forms on the face of the planet. Bro, I've heard of you, I've seen you, and you're nothing but a waste of my goddamned time. Look at you, a permanent scowl on your face and the second someone looks at your wife in any way, shape, or form, you go fuckin' ballistic. All I have to do is put you in to a headlock one too many times and you're going down. You're significantly slower than me, and though I ain't gonna be throwing punches, I'm going to be outsmarting your every step in that ring. Of course, that's if you face me. I would hate to go down to someone like Mysti -- that would make you less than primordial ooze. Less than anything else. Then what are you gonna do? Walk? Pussyfoot around and walk out of the company because you didn't move on? Pathetic.
TJ: So that's two down . . . five more to go.
WHELAN: Oh, how about the Super Special One? Jack Owyns. Man, the vocabulary this dick has is fuckin' amazing. So fuckin' awesome -- I mean, I'm just fuckin' frightened about every fuckin' little thing that's said every fuckin' minute. Really fuckin' scared me. I'm fuckin' shitting in my pants in fear.
There was silence after this statement; Whelan sat there with a stoic look on his face. Clearly, he wasn't fazed.
WHELAN: For fuck's sake, there's something better to listen to than an angry thirty-one year old bitch about his life in fifteen minutes that I can't get back. There's also something to be said about gaining a vocabulary -- 'fuck' is an amazing word that can be used as any part of speech, but there's only so much people can take before they stop listening. I won't lie, there are parts I've agreed with him on, but Owyns isn't the shit. He never will be the shit, and he needs to start thinking about what he can do to actually prove to be a changed man, or at least . . . a decent athlete. Two hundred and fifty four pounds of brawn does nothing for ring intelligence, something he may be slightly more intelligent with, but in the end, it'll fail. Just like the rest. Because you know what will happen? One fuckin' headlock. One. He'll be down and out for the rest of the match. His game plan is simple: piss me off. But honestly, when you have the vocabulary of a sixteen year old and the attitude of a five year old, do you really think that shit is going to piss me off? Do you really think that I'm going to fall to your shitty antics? Nah. Because unlike you, I may have less composure, but I definitely have more focus. None of you fuckers realize that I'm not a wrestler. I didn't wake up one morning as a wee little lad and decide my goal in life was to be a wrestler. I'll take off your motherfuckin' face when you piss me off -- and that, Owyns, isn't something that is likely. The only person still digging himself into a hole is you. Now, why don't you go toddle on off back to Mondae and Arianny. I'm sure they miss their favorite playtoy.
TJ: Here's one as well . . . Connor Jacobs.
WHELAN: Haven't liked the fucker from the start.
Another round of silence.
WHELAN: [sigh] Connor Jacobs is one that seems to still think he's God's gift to something, and yet, I quite haven't figured out that something. He hasn't struck a nerve . . . in fact, he hasn't done quite anything except for announce himself to be amazing when . . . no one has proof. Andrew Blake, a man even I know the name of, offers him a gig with him as his agent if he betrays his best bro by sleeping with his wife. Honestly, no one gives a fuck about The Adventures of Genevie and Elijah Carlson except people who suck in drama like toads eating flies. People clearly don't give a shit, and it's only that I'm mentioning it because I want to paint a picture of what Connor really is like. He thinks highly of himself, but has nothing to verify to the world that he's anything he says. He sticks his dick in anything with that walks with two legs; sitting back one day and thinking about it, yeah, the kid probably has some skills. He hits pretty hard, he's got some aerial techniques, but in the end, honestly no one gives a flying fuck. He can come in here and start rattling off thousands of words about his opponents, but really . . . what does he bring to the table? Is there anything interesting this guy does? But let me tell him something right now.
Finn looks partially irritated, partially furious at this point. I can tell that what he's about to say is going to be pretty detrimental.
WHELAN: You mention my wife ever again, and you're not going to have a dick to fuck with. You're not going to have a scalp to have hair, and you're not going to have a heart beating in your chest. You guys act as if pissing me off is going to throw me off my game -- if anything, it makes me more determined. I become a loose cannon, and honestly, I don't like you. I really don't care what happens to you, if you continue to live, if you continue to fucking breathe. Aaron Asphyxia will never be mentioned by you again, or I'll literally take a bullet to your brain. There is nothing I take more seriously than Aaron and the kid in the oven. There is nothing that I take more seriously than winning in this tournament, either. You can try to find your low blows to your roster. You can try to find what you can say to continue appearing to be a royal prick. But in the end, you're exactly like Mysti Savage: a sad, pathetic excuse of a human being who has yet to find any portion of life fulfilling, so you end up shoving your dick in the next glory hole down the road and getting a high off of it. No one gives a shit about you, not one person on this roster believes you to be a threat. You use the assholes around you to gain notoriety, and then act like your fame is your own doing. It's a shitty, pathetic existence, and I pity that you live the way you do. Additionally, I don't talk about my wife because my wife is not who is out there doing the actual fight, now is she? What does she have to contribute to this? Fuckin' nothing. And what do you have to contribute? Nothing. I can outlast you in a fight, and if we get stuck together, it's not going to be a match. It's going to be a fight, and that is where I fucking excel. There's no way you're heading past me, so get ready for the Redemption Challenge.
TJ: . . . so tell us how you really feel.
WHELAN: [laughs]
TJ: Since we're on a roll . . .
WHELAN: I'm gonna talk about Felix. There are a lot of good things I can say about Felix. She's vocal, she's outlandish, she does what she wants, and she doesn't give a royal fuck about anyone else. She has been a champion in the past, but is it honestly enough to push forward? I think it is, but at the same time, I don't really think Felix has the drive. She likes pretty things, but she also doesn't want to break a nail. What happens if I face her? Absolutely nothing, because I doubt it's going to happen. In the event it does, though . . . I want to make it perfectly clear that whatever alliance we've made is gone. It's a free-for-all, and I intend to win. I'm not going to be nice because she has a weave. I'm not going to be nice because she's a friend of the family. This is the exact same bullshit that happened when I faced Krys Jericho over a year ago. People thought I was going to go easy on her, but fuck no. She thought the same and ended up lying in the corner of the ring without a win. I don't play around, and people need to realize this shit. Felix is about the same speed as I am, but she's weak on her technique. We've worked together in the past, we've trained, and we've fought together. I can tell you right now this if we face one another, it will be a sight to see, and no one will want to miss it. Not here. Not now. But honestly . . . the championship is mine, and I'm not going to let someone who doesn't give a shit about this sport at all have even the slightest shot. Sorry Felix, but if it's between you and me . . . you're going down.
We pause again; Finn takes a sip of his coffee. Clearly, he's growing bored with this.
TJ: Anything else?
WHELAN: I really don't care about the rest. Bryan Williams tried coming in to make an impact, but I don't see him capitalizing like Aidan Carlisle did. Additionally, I don't think we can really take someone as boring as he is. I've watched him in 4CW and Boardwalk and I haven't been impressed -- these people paint themselves as glorious fighters that have no weaknesses. We all have weaknesses. Kind of like Matthew Page: you know if he faces Felix, he's not going to be able to ignore her ass. It'll cost him, just like undermining me will too. I'm really not interested in saying much here, because I've not been impressed, and I'm not interested. If Matthew gets up there, then I'll face him, but I honestly do not give a shit about his personality, his words, or anything he has to say. I guess what is last to say is that, out of all the competitors, I'm more resilient. I've got more focus, more endurance, and more defense. I don't play on the offensive -- I let you fuckers do that, and then I'll step into the fray and put you down. That championship, whether it is tomorrow, or it is in three weeks, will be mine. You can count on that. See you all on Victory, and whomever I face . . . sorry about your luck. Everything that goes up . . . must come down. And it won't be me.
