MATCH PROMO Well, actually

Impact

cd&p but also balls
EAW ROSTER
World Heavyweight Champion
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Right back to no self-awareness. You hate to see it.

Rex McAllister, old hat in the flesh, is claiming — as only Rex McAllister can — that I’m “banging the same drum repetitiously.” Man in the mirror, self-awareness, your career-long stasis, everything that hit so close to home for Rex fell on deaf ears because Rex is a man who sees and hears what he wants. If I call him a jar of mayonnaise, and then from there I rattle off thousands of words explaining why his career, though successful, is way less remarkable than it probably should be, why it’s his fault, and why he hasn’t fixed it, rather than focus on the substance of what I said and tell me why I’m wrong — something pseudo-intellectual Nietzsche-for-Halloween here has struggled mightily at whenever he’s crossed paths with me — he focuses only on an insult that spanned four words instead of everything else because when you walk through life completely oblivious to criticism and unable to improve yourself because of it, you hear only what you want to hear, and when I speak to McAllister it’s inconvenient for him because I tell this little bitch what he NEEDS to hear.

Nobody has ever kicked knowledge on Rex like I do, like I’ve been doing since King of Elite, so when faced with me and my presence, Rex has absolutely no idea how to act. I’m delusional because I consider myself the gold standard everybody aspires to rise to in this industry? So you’re saying I’m delusional because I’m the most accomplished wrestler in EAW history. Hey, I guess if the wrestlers here don’t want to win championships and succeed, don’t look at me as the gold standard. If you just wanna fuck around, twiddle your thumbs, and stay along for the ride so you can pick up ugly-ass groupies in the dodgy bars of the backwood towns the majority of this roster is required to visit, then I’m inclined to agree with you, Rex. Don’t follow the Impact recipe for success. Pattern your career after someone else who has done fuck-all in this business except coast along and stay on the roster for clout with IG influencers, if that’s your goal. If you’re trying to actually win shit in this business and you’re not just leeching off of it for fame until the well inevitably runs dry? Follow in my footsteps. The majority of you don’t, because you’re content in your cushy little gigs and you’re mental midgets that thrive in low-pressure situations who are so timid and emasculated they’ve never even extended their arms to so much as even reach for the brass ring. The thought alone sends tremors down their spine, and it’s people like that who only aspire toward the social spoils this company entails, and not endeavoring to overcome the grueling rigors of the road less followed on the path to power, that I’ll gladly forever distance myself from.

You have never evoked excitement in the EAW audience. Show me where I’m wrong, Rex? The truth hurts, bitchboy. During the height of your dominance, at the absolute zenith of your success, you were never considered the best World Champion in EAW. You don’t have the power to control the narrative. There’s an old saying — cliches are cliches because they’re generally true. Likewise, when I shit on Rex for having the same personality and influence as the cardboard cutout version of himself in the EAW merch shop that even his immediate family won’t purchase, it resonates with these people because it’s true. When you start flapping your gums and mouthing off with quasi-intellectual nonsensical platitudes, trying to front to these people like you’re Confucius when in reality you’re a professional fucking wrestler whose check only clears because he gets paid to knock heads, it comes off a little disingenuously to these people. I should know — I’ve made that mistake before. I was always an exceptional in-ring talent, but when I found my voice I became unstoppable. Not the voice of some old-ass philosopher who’s been dead for hundreds of years that nobody growing up today can remotely relate to other than when pretending to be smart in Facebook statuses and Twitter posts that make people cringe, but *my* voice, the voice of the realest motherfucker to ever lace up a pair of boots in this business, the voice of a brawler, a gunslinger, a fighter that’s going to sling three punches for every one sloth-like haymaker you try to swing on me, clown. When will I get tired of telling you this? Precisely when it stops being the stone cold fucking truth, you frontrunning fucking pussy.

Because see, Rex, even when you approach me with this myopic outlook, when you scrutinize a single isolated remark instead of responding to very valid criticisms about yourself and your unwillingness to change your stripes, your rigid approach to wrestling that stays exactly the same regardless of whether you triumph or suffer an abject defeat, I will still fucking own it. You think I need new material? Look atchya! I wrote the bible on innovation, all you’ve done your entire career is be Regular Rex and then lie to people saying it’s “consistency” when in reality that’s an excuse for — oh my God, THE SAME SONG AND DANCE, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT? — to rage on in perpetuity because you’re not a creative, you’re a fucking meathead, which makes this little appeal to philosophy all the more ironic because it’s clearly compensation for the fact you desperately, sorely lack the ability to switch your style up. When I spoke on you not changing your outlook, very little of that was based on your personality, but since that’s what you chose to focus on, I have absolutely zero problem doubling down and calling a spade a spade. I was focusing on your response to a crushing defeat, such as the one you experienced against me at King of Elite, and how the tone in your voice seems exactly the same as it was back then, not about your certified swaggerless status. Again, you chose to focus on that, because the truth hurts. How has Rex McAllister changed since King of Elite? Are you at all a different wrestler than the guy who competed against me back then? Or was that just an “off night?” Elite talents in this industry look at their worst defeats and analyze them endlessly to see where they erred and correct it immediately. They spend painstaking hours on end fixing what failed them when they lost everything. Decent talents? Flavors of the month? They have exactly one note, just like I said, and so they’re completely stripped of the ability to progress into anything better than what they’ve already become. Tell me that doesn’t describe Rex McAllister’s career as a wrestler to a goddamn T. When you talk about receiving my advice with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulder, what you’re actually telling these people is that I’m right and you have no answer for it. I won’t mice words or beat around the bush — It’s surrender. Before I beat you and Noah Reigner to capture an unprecedented ninth World Championship reign at Pain for Pride, that battle is won before it even began. It was won all the way back at King of Elite, and since you’ve admitted nothing has changed since then, nothing will change. You think because this is a Triple Threat and Noah Reigner’s in the fray that it’s going to change the fortunes in your favor? Is that what you’re relying on to return you to prominence? Because you’re not telling us how exactly you plan to solve this riddle. In the mind of McAllister, there’s not even a code to crack — and that’s exactly why I’m walking out of Pain for Pride with gold on my shoulders.

It’s a thin line between thinking you’re unbeatable and never believing you’re going to get beat. How do you go into a match knowing you aren’t unbeatable, but with the confidence of someone who refuses to lose? You don’t. Something is amiss with this tripe Rex is peddling, and it smells foul. You say my narrative is the same script, like it’s some sort of insult, but your fallback on everything is that you aren’t uncreative or static — you’re just masterfully consistent. See where the problem is? You’re poking holes in your own bullshit, and you’re letting me expose you in front of those people because you can’t outdo me in the ring, and you sure as shit can’t outwit me outside of it. When I “stick to the script,” Rex says people are going to get tired of listening to me, most of all myself. When Rex takes a crushing loss at King of Elite and his tone stays exactly the same afterward, and really nothing about him changes whatsoever just because he’s a lazy apathetic fuck, it’s masqueraded as “consistency.” You think if you put enough makeup on this pig you’ll turn it into a supermodel, but the cakey foundation still looks like fucking shit. I’m legitimately flabbergasted he doesn’t understand the irony in this shit he’s saying. When I’m consistent with my message, it’s going to “get old.” But when Rex starts rattling Confucius bar after Nietzsche bar after Heidegger bar and this motherfucker tries to Aristotle his way back to the World Heavyweight Championship, he’s a “survivor.” Spare me the bullshit. My message is consistent because it’s true. The consistency in your tone, character, and wrestling is based not in intent, but in an inability to perform any other way. That’s all you have. Not only have I targeted your personality, but worse than that is the fact you’ve added nothing to your repertoire as a performer inside the ring, and you wonder why nobody expects any different at Pain for Pride when you’ve already not just shown us, but TOLD EVERYONE the exact same Rex McAllister that showed up at King of Elite is the one that’s coming out the curtain at Pain for Pride. Interpretation? Fuck outta here with that mysterious bullshit. Maybe when I mop the canvas with your mug at Pain for Pride, after the referee declares me the new World Heavyweight Champion, you’ll be bloodied and battered, but you’ll still have enough energy to wave your finger and tell everybody with what little breath you have



“Actually… It’s up… to interpretation”

Get that shit out of here. The jig is up.
 
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