MATCH PROMO “ICON” - Promo #3 for Voltage

Visual Prophet

Say My Name

Through my third eye I can see you sitting in a hotel room with your dad, your idol, your yes men, massaging your cellphone as you cast YouTube clips of my bouts on your smart tv looking for any flaw you can find. Studying me like calculus, tell me if I am wrong, k?

Aha, I knew it!

Rookies are fish food and as a killer whale myself, I disappointed myself for expecting more. For hoping that you’d give me an inkling of a challenge... For thinking you would do something unexpected. I blushed listening to you ramble in your last promo. As cute as Bambi, it was. Alas, this match isn’t for the faint of heart. Brutality, embarrassment, humbling...I’m not proud of how I’m going to do you Korey Gaines.

Who am I kidding? I’m proud like a father with the opportunity to give his son a life lesson. Something your idol Red Amazing never could teach you. Something your real father wasn’t privy to. In this business, unlike the one you thrived in, you either kill or be killed. This promo is me poking a body with a stick, let me break things down...

You survive if I allow it.


You grew up with elbow pads, knee pads, and helmets. When you were learning how to suit up for the slopes, I was learning the ins and outs of ring ropes. While you and your daddy would go from state to state on tour buses with Redbull logos all over it to compete, I was grey hound bus to slums to wrestle grown men for as low as 20 dollars and maybe some chicken wings. I grind my whole life and clawed just to get here meanwhile you just decided to become a wrestler because you were bored at being the best at your life’s calling. Gaines, I asked you to make me believe you. To show me how much you love wrestling since you spout from your mouth how this was your dream since you watched your idol Red Amazing fly around the ring and carry home championship gold. I told you nothing about you feels like you really want this spot. Then you proceeded to talk about a bunch of nothing...That’s where you lose my respect.

Where is your fire? Where is your energy? This humility and your “happy to be here” attitude is off putting. I don’t see a wrestler in your mannerisms. I barely see a man in your appearance. What do I see, you may wonder?

I see a lost boy who doesn’t know where he wants to be in this world. A lost boy who is in over his head. A lost child who will be touched, in the most ruthless of manners this Sunday on Voltage. Sweet child, dearly beloved...things will escalate to a point where you will have to make a decision about this foray in to EAW. Is it health or wealth? Which do you value more?


Your health? You must not value it if you do even step in this ring against The Visual Prophet! Can’t be wealth. You’re loaded, sweetie! You have more money then most of the roster on all four shows combined. Silly sponsors, purses, and prizes earned from 360 nose grinds and 540 heel flips. I don’t even consider my bank account and yours as a fair bout in the same way I can’t see you as a threat inside the squared circle. I’ve really trained long before I heard you existed, Korey. I really traveled across the USA fighting men twice your size and quadruple your talent. I’ve really slept in my car just to reach this point. I’ve seen what happens to wrestling promotions when they think to far on to the business side and less on to the beautiful wrestling side. You are an investment that may bring in more fans and despite your Boy Scout attitude, I don’t see value in you. You and your crossover appeal to casual fans and kids doesn’t appeal to The Visual Prophet!
That’s all you are to EAW management Korey; business. Business they have mistakenly given to me to handle. Well, mishandle...

I will take liberties with you not because you truly deserve it, simply because I have to make an example out of you. You are not a wrestler...and you are set to face the apex of this industry one on one in your first real match. Scary thoughts...

If I were you, man...I don’t even know what I’d be thinking! Like, you keep talking as if this isn’t going to be what it was already decided to be by me. Let me calm the riddles and cut to the chase...

Korey Gaines, study up and do whatever else you think gives you an edge. Keep chugging Redbull pisswater and eating Doritos while you make snow angels here in Moscow. Snap every chat and tweet every gram instantly, you social media whore! You study me and take in every word you heard about me. Every rumor, every phrase used to describe me will be flashed over your eyes when that bell rings and I finally grip you up like an infant.

“Viz the Cult leader?” I am just an icon living. I am the essence of Prince locked inside the frame of Muhammad Ali in his prime. I am the psychotic determination of Kobe Bryant with Ron Banks peak in my sights. I am the greatest wrestler in the Milky Way. A hurricane, tsunami, lightning strike, and a flood are what occurs when I sneeze at mortal men like you, babe!

Bless I display the bravado of the uncrowned King of The Elite. My opportunity stolen from me...never the less, this opportunity we both have won’t be stolen. Your innocence will be stolen by me. Your budding career will be stolen by me. Everyone who believes in you, their hope and faith will be stolen by me. As I strike you with this elbow in every way possible, don’t blame me for this beating...k?

Don’t blame EAW, don’t blame Red Amazing, don’t blame any one but yourself. Blame your self for thinking you had a chance. Blame yourself for thinking being the nice guy was going to lead you to anything other then finishing last. Blame Korey Gaines for this concussion that’s coming to you.

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