MATCH PROMO I'd rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than Jake Smith

Cody Marshall

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Oh boy, where do we start? Where the hell do you even begin when you gotta respond to a couple of dudes who called someone a "little strain of marijuana"? That's just weird. Do I call Jake Smith a "little bottle of hair product"? Well, I guess I just did. This guy is the biggest douchebag around. He's like if Axe body spray was a person. And Joshua Nicholls is just lost. He's like a little deer in the headlights. Doesn't know where he is, where he's going, what he's doing! These guys are like Solomon: they love to hear themselves talk and they think they're God's gift to wrestling when in reality they're shit. Jake, Josh, -- can I call you Josh? Fuck you, I'll call you Josh if I want to -- you two are bragging about beating a rookie wrestling his first match in EAW. A guy who was playing his Nintendo Switch DURING the match and still put up a competitive fight against you two third-rate jamokes. That is your crowning achievement in EAW. Fact is, you never pinned me, and you never will. With my size and strength, and Jack Haze's speed and agility, you two fourth-rate ham-n-eggers got no chance in hell. Yep, you're fourth-rate now. Changed my mind.

Before we go any further, let's grab our pistols and shoot the fuck outta the big ol' elephant in the room. I was skeptical at first too. When Jack approached me to team up, I wasn't so sure. I've never been into all that hippie-dippy granola shit. We don't have guys like that where I'm from. Plus I've never been a tag team guy. But there's a first time for everything. I can think of a million reasons I should've said no, but something inside of me was telling me to say yes. I'm willing to give this a shot, and y'all oughta be damn sure we're picking up those Unified Tag Team Championships. The Jaded Hearts? Shit, I can bench press both of them combined. Then again, that's also true of The Revolution. I guess when you're so small you need to travel in packs. Sad!


There are lots of sad things about The Revolution. Especially Jake Smith. You'd rather listen to The Beach Boys than The Beatles? Cool. And I'd rather listen to some Lynyrd Skynyrd in my Ford F-150 while I'm cruising down the country roads without a care in the goddamn world. Not sure what that has to do with anything though. But I bet you thought you were so fucking clever with that line. I bet you practiced that shit in front of the mirror 50 times over. "HA! I'd rather listen to the Beach Boys over the Beatles. HA! GOTEM! OWNED!". Is that supposed to be some kinda 'sick burn' or whatever you kids are saying these days?... Oh, that's right, you're the same damn age as me. At least. You could be 40 for all I know. I'm no genius, but I know you debuted in 2003 'cause Google told me so, which makes you at least 33 years old. I don't wanna give you a... well it wouldn't be a midlife crisis yet, but you're too old for it to be a quarter-life crisis... let's call it a third-life crisis -- but just look at everything I've accomplished and then take a look at your own record. Take some deep breaths. It's gonna be ok. Well... not really. It's gonna be a fucking massacre come Saturday night. You got one thing you're better at than me: keeping a full head of hair into your 30s.

There's a very important thing that Jack and I are better at than The Revolution... somebody call Charlie Sheen 'cause it's WINNING! And I like to celebrate a win with a couple of cold ones. Nothing wrong with that, despite what Jake Smith might say. Maybe you could use a few beers to loosen up a bit, Jake. Does it cause you physical pain to see me downing a Budweiser? Does it hurt you inside to see Jack hitting the bong? Jake, Jack... very similar names. I hope I'm getting them right. Point is, it doesn't matter what we get up to on our own time once we push past that curtain. What matters is what happens on the other side, between those ropes, where Jack Haze and I are gonna lay a major ass-whooping on you two fifth-rate job squad bottom-feeders. Yep, it's fifth-rate now. Downgraded you. Not sorry. This team of the "Alcohol-addicted dad and the 70s-disco-loving hippie" are gonna kick your ass into next week. And it's next week that you'll realize you won't have a spot on the Under Siege card. Not even a damn pre-show match. That's just how irrelevant you are, were, and always will be. Left off of two big-time events in a row. Sucks to suck. When are you two fools gonna realize that you're not the best tag team in EAW? Hell, you may be the worst! The worst I've seen in a long time. And I've seen some pretty bad ones. I once faced a team consisting of a British dude pretending to be Mexican with a small package pin as a finisher, and a 160-pound Australian dude who was even worse than his partner, believe it or not. You may just be worse than them. Pin me and I'll change my mind. 'Till then, fuck you and don't hold your breath.

Fuckin' bland-ass vanilla no-talent shitstains. You're gonna wear out those vocal cords whining so much. So do the world a favor, shut your mouth and take your beating like the men you allegedly are. Every time one of you tone-deaf doucherockets picks up a mic you just make me wanna beat the shit outta you even more. Sixth-rate schlubs. Only Revolution I give a shit about ended in 1783. And this one's gonna end the same way: lots of bloody, battered bodies lying around, and this patriot standing tall. Shit, I could beat you two all by myself without breaking a damn sweat. But with Jack Haze by my side? Your chances of winning just went up in a cloud of smoke. Peace, motherfuckers.
 

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