The crowd is ecstatic as Dante mounts the offense. I get to all fours just in time to take a running knee to the temple. I collapse to the mat again as Dante goes in for the kill. He applies his trademarked “Nightmare Lock,” cinching it in tightly. At this point in the match, I’ve worn myself out to the point of not being able to think clearly. Oh well. Live to fight another day I guess. The ref sees me tap out and calls for the bell. Dante springs to his feet with his hands raised as the ref gives him the belt. A lump grows in my throat as I watch the opportunity of a lifetime slip away. I think I’ll go on a tri-state fish-slapping spree. What better place to start than WGWF headquarters.
This? This is what you wanted to see? You’re a dick. Try again.
Go to the trash talk and go away, you management nut-riders.
