MATCH PROMO fuck this i'm retiring to the ranch to raise cows n shit

Cody Marshall

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#1
Oh boy, that title grabbed your attention, didn't it?

Y'all can relax, I'm just fucking with ya. I ain't leaving this place for a long, long time. There's far too much work to be done. Too much ass to kick. Too many titles to win. Too many fools in the locker room who need to meet my staple gun up-close and personal. Too many vanilla midgets and holier-than-thou "pure" wrestlers who don't have an ounce of respect for the hardcore, balls-to-the-wall style this company was founded on. Too many sons of bitches who just talk and talk and talk but when push comes to shove they gotta have backup to get the job done. I ain't called for backup since I was putting bullets through towelheads in Iraq. Meanwhile, Chris Elite's gotta get Big Mike involved to beat me. But hey, the past is the past, no point crying over spilled milk. All we can do is build a better future, and that's what I'm doing right the fuck now. We don't settle for second-best in Texas, and you better believe I'll keep on fighting 'till it's Cody Marshall they're calling the GOAT, not Aaron. Come to think of it, does anyone actually call Aaron the GOAT? Anyone other than himself? I've never seen it. I've been called many things by many people, which I won't repeat here 'cause why give those wackos a platform for their shit jokes. And now we've stumbled upon the biggest reason I ain't going nowhere: I got too many damn haters to prove wrong.

Nobody ever thought I'd even get this far. Every inch I've earned, I've had to scratch and claw for. I'm the guy who does what he wants, says what he wants, and I look out for number one above all else. These pussies in the locker room look at a guy like me and they see a throwback to the golden age, back when wrestlers looked, talked, and fought like men. And they, with their soy-based diets and Starbucks lattes and whatever the fuck else these tools do in their spare time, they can't handle it. For years, I saw men I'd kicked the ever-living shit out of getting title shots 'cause they were brown-nosing, dick-sucking company stooges who toed the party line. So what the hell did I do? Well, it's simple: just start kicking even more ass. It's a very simple solution and it's the one I'm returning to now. I'm not gonna let a couple tough losses drag me down. I'm Cody Marshall, the one-man redneck wrecking crew. Former Hardcore Champion, back when EAW wasn't too pussy to kick it extreme. Beaten world champs and hall-of-famers. What one of my opponents last week told me was absolutely right. I've been letting myself slip, been slacking off, leaving shit 'till the last minute and that ain't no way to do things. Losing last week's number one contender's match was the best thing that ever happened to me 'cause I am back with a passion and a renewed energy and I'm ready to open up a major can of whoop-ass on whatever sorry son of a bitch decides to cross me. Consider Showdown the US government 'cause for all intents and purposes it's shut down. All you non-essential services on this roster -- you know who you are -- I'm gonna pick 'em all off. I'm gonna raise hell all over this goddamn brand till I'm the last man left standing, mark my fucking words. I'm coming for each and every one of y'all and I won't rest until I got the EAW Championship around my waist. By the time I'm through with this shit, I'll be the champ or I'll be banned from walking within a hundred fifty fucking miles of a Showdown arena. Or both.

Meet victims one, two, and three: Justiciar Eric, Joshua Nicholls, and Shane Gates. Shane, I've squashed you before and I'll do it again. Now don't get me wrong, I respect anyone who puts up a good fight, even if it ain't enough in the end. Maybe you'll be able to do that this time. Last time we squared off, you didn't even knock me off my damn feet. Didn't break a goddamn sweat putting you down like a dog whose time has come. But you know me. I love a good comeback story as much as anyone. I hope you do better this time, Shane. I really do. I wouldn't wanna be the reason you get released, then you can't make your mortgage payments and your girl leaves you and the bank forecloses on your house and you live out the rest of your days in a box on the streets begging for nickels and dimes. Then again, you, Damon Diesel and Cage did put a real good whooping on me and TLA a half-year back. I really thought you were going places then. I hope for your sake you're back in top form, squashing a dude who can't fight back really ain't as fun as it looks. But I gotta funny little feeling you'll be a little choke-artist again, then the week after you'll get up on your soapbox and claim you 'let me win'. Soundin' like a goddamn middle-schooler who lost a game of 2K shouting on Xbox Live.

Alright, who else we got? "The Lord of Order", Justiciar Eric. A dude who feels like those who inflict harm on others must suffer 'cause it goes against his Utopian Order he wants to establish. Hmm. Now I've fucking heard it all. A wrestler who doesn't like people who hurt people. What exactly do you think this job entails, son? This is one fucked-up, unforgiving business we're in. We put our lives on the line every time we hit that ring. And hell, I think you gotta be a little crazy to thrive in this racket. If you don't enjoy whoopin' ass, bringing the pain, you ain't gonna last long here. Maybe I'm misunderstanding your whole deal here, in that case, I'd be glad to crack open a few cold ones with ya and you can tell me all about it -- after I beat the shit outta you Saturday night, of course. It's nothing personal, kid. Just business. There's no count-outs, no disqualifications, and that's where you thrive, Eric. Unfortunately for you, that's where I thrive too, and that's why I'm a former Hardcore Champion. You ain't gonna know what hit ya, kid. Hope you bought some health insurance.

Joshua Nicholls, best for last, am I right? Well, we'll see Saturday. Tag team specialist, it looks like? Not too familiar with your work, I like what I've seen so far but I ain't no Dax Harris, son. I'm Cody fucking Marshall, and I'm levels above the rest of y'all right here. I don't wanna say the whole reason this match was made was so I could look strong by beating the ever-living shit outta all of y'all... but I guess I just did. Prove me wrong, son. Or should I say "mate", since you do come from a land down under. Well, down under me is where you're gonna be for that 1-2-3 count. If I was VIP I'd yell "pause" right about here. But since I'm me I'll just warn you that you're in for a helluva beatdown. I hear your least favorite match type is extreme rules. I got news for ya, pal: this is a fatal four-way and those are contested under... you guessed it, extreme rules! Just reminding you, I know you've been around the business for a while, held the tag titles in some other promotion, but that bush league shit don't measure up to the way we do things here. Abso-fucking-lutely not even close. This is the land of Elite, this is where the best in the world come to fight, and boy you best believe I'm about to show you how shit's done around here.

And once I fuck these three stooges up, it's on to bigger and better things. I ain't fucking around here no more. I will be EAW Champion, and that's a prediction you can take to the bank. Get ready for the ride of your fucking lives, people. And on that note, peace out motherfuckers.
 

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