- Messages
- 412
- Points
- 93
“Pray forgive the discourtesy of commencing this video with an anecdote, but rest assured that my vision will illuminate itself within a matter of minutes. Within the course of this past week, after the veritable travesty that transpired at the main event tag team match last week, I was beleaguered by an innumerable number of malfunctions in my construction operations. More on that momentarily, but first I shall explain my scope of work in this industry. Armstrong Construction Corp is a vast arm of the Armstrong Dynasty’s empire, spanning each of the states, consisting of various departments dedicated for the different sectors of construction involved. Verily, by the almighty hand of Armstrong, the United States of America continues to be built up from the ground up; this is of paramount importance for nationalists who have an earnest – as well as gullible – desire to elevate this country’s position relative to those of our perceived enemies. They see the rapid infrastructural development of the People’s Republic of China and their blood boils; I shall, for the sake of example, briefly debase myself by imitating their words. ‘WE GOTTA MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! WE CAN’T LET THEM COMMIES WIN! ‘MERICA NUMBER ONE!’ Needless to say, these fools are trapped in a permanent mental prison of their own construction; as a consequence of the grave lack of gray matter in their misshapen heads, they are incapable of perceiving the world through a grander lens. Those on the other side of the proverbial aisle proclaim themselves to be on the side of goodness and justice; in their proclamations they decry the haughtiness and erratic nature of the present administration in how they operate. Absent from their protests is any manner of condemnation of similar acts being performed by their chosen representatives, because those acts are done under the veneer of ‘respectability’ with some token gestures to signal that they are, indeed, on the side of the marginalized. Of course, one cannot expect the baseborn filth to be able to expand their scope; that is not what those of their position are meant to be capable of! The filth, hundreds of millions of them in this nation alone, can only operate through their narrow scope; in their infinitely stupid arrogance, though, they TRULY believe with the utmost sincerity that they know what they must and are, thus, doing the ‘right thing’ in their own minds.
Impertinent lackwits, the lot of them; like a fish seeing inches in front of its eyes and believing itself to know the depths of the ocean, they believe their vision to be far more informed than it actually is. They can continue believing for all I care; whilst their bodies become riddled with rising levels of cortisol because of what they perceive to be events leading to the end of the world, those of my ilk – those that exist lightyears above the filth – continue to reap the rewards. Global destabilization? Perfect opportunity to sell more weaponry! Perfect opportunity to spike the prices of gasoline! Perfect opportunity to extract even more profit off the backs of the peasantry than I was before! I care not how many families get torn to smithereens and how many futures fade into nothingness; so long as my empire continues to expand ad infinitum, I can guarantee that I will sleep SOUNDLY tonight. However, as I stated, I have been dealing with machinery malfunctioning; a CAT 259 breaking down six hours away from the nearest Armstrong warehouse? Sure, why not! One of my mini excavators springing an oil leak a full working day of travel away from the warehouse? Verily, why not add to my strife! OH, THE CARRYING BUCKET OF OUR KOMATSU EXCAVATOR HAS BECOME STUCK IN PLACE TWO DAYS AWAY FROM THE WAREHOUSE?! SPLENDID! SPLENDIFEROUS! MAGNIFICENT! JUST WHAT THE PROVERBIAL DOCTOR ORDERED! AND OF ALL THE LOWBORN LACKWITS THAT ARE UNDER MY DYNASTY’S EMPLOY, ONE WHO LACKS THE MOST WIT FILLED A TRUCK DESIGNED FOR DIESEL WITH GASOLINE?! TRULY?!?!
Tsk, tsk; His Immaculacy must remain calm in the face of overwhelming pressure. To be able to adapt in response to such pressure is at the very core of an Armstrong’s being; our empire has expanded to this point because of a consistent focus… namely, being guided by our sole lodestar, avarice itself. Would you, listening audience, care to venture a guess as to how I dealt with the issues of defective machinery?
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No, no, by all means, take a moment to ponder; this is a legitimate question! You have about ten more seconds to come up with an answer in your minds before I elucidate what I did.
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If your answer was ‘demolish them, scrap them for parts to make the most use out of them, and then replace them with better machinery’, then you are correct! When I have machinery, I intend to use it to its very end; when it stops functioning as intended, it gets destroyed because its scrap metal can be used for a modicum of additional value. May those whose hearts connect with machinery weep, but a man of my stature must simply move on; business must proceed unyieldingly, after all. Let us tally up all of the defective machinery I had to deal with.
- CAT 259 Skid Steer
- Mini Excavator
- Komatsu Excavator
- Trailer-hitched truck
- Anthroweaponized Jay Jerry Johnson
Indeed, Jay, of all the defective machinery I had to deal with over the course of the week, you are the most irritating. My other machines simply sputtered, simply leaked, and then died in silence as they ought to, waiting with the patience of soulless steel to be scrapped for tax-free cash. With YOU, though, I have the agonizing fate of being subject to some pseudo-philosophical twaddle about how you are NOT, indeed, a human weapon to be used by my disposal (laughable notion), how you have INDEED turned a corner and are pursuing the world championship with a healthier mindset (laughable notion), and how you will be the one to dethrone me just because you gained a bit of momentum after defeating Damon Lazarus (of all the laughable notions, this is the most laughable). You – much like the baseborn filth that are so confident in their narrow scopes – have come to some misbegotten epiphany as a DIRECT RESULT of your minuscule lens that you can rise above your position and topple His Immaculacy at his peak. The fate that awaits you at Grand Rampage, defective weapon, is the same that awaits the rest of my defective machinery; beneath the yoke of my immaculate boot, you shall be trampled, compressed, and turned into a piece of scrap that will be added to the foundation of my throne to elevate me to whatever extent someone of your stature is capable of elevating anyone. Do not whine henceforth; this is the path that you have chosen as a consequence of your treachery. You could have known your place in advance; no one can say that you did not receive enough insight as to how to operate in a tag team setting with your superior, that much is certain! Alas, I overestimated the capacity of your brain; your musings led me to believe that you had the intellectual prowess to know what you were designed to be when teaming with me, and it is as a result of my overestimation that the tag team match last week ended the way it did. Throwing away an undefeated streak for no other reason than your own stupidity, Jay, is an unforgiveable transgression in Armstrong’s Brand. Your punishment will be excruciating; there is nothing else for me to say on this matter until I am facing off against you for my title at Grand Rampage.
Do note that I specified I will be defending against my defective weapon at Grand Rampage; let the implication of that sink in, ARIA, because it is important for your feeble mind’s stability that you come to terms with the inevitability of Sunday’s result now rather than when the bell rings and ‘Pride And Arrogance’ begins playing for the second time that night. Perhaps you are marching into this match with a bit more gusto given the asinine circumstances in which this entire event is taking place; if that is the case… given your status as a veritable lackwit, I will not begrudge a fool for acting as a fool. It does not take a genius to perceive that the odds have been stacked against me with this… whatever this situation is meant to be. It has become a recurring issue that the administration of this brand wishes to sabotage their greatest asset and prop up would-be usurpers to strike at the foundation of my reign. Come on, Matthieu! Hosting one of my vaunted EAW World Championship Defenses in some dilapidated hovel like ‘Arena San Francisco’? Is this what constitutes an arena nowadays? This is more reminiscent of one of Armstrong Construction Corp’s warehouses than a legitimate arena! My title defenses ought to be hosted in STADIUMS against INDUSTRY TITANS, for THAT is what an elitist of my stature DESERVES for his world championship reign; instead, I am being forced to combat ““““““ARIA””””” at a site that looks like it has been extracted from the dustbowl of the Great Depression. Is it not enough that I am being forced to wage war against the human embodiment of children’s television cliches? Must it take place in this ‘arena’? Must it have a cancer-ridden child as the referee? Must it incorporate said woman’s partner and my present ‘rival’ as the enforcers of this match? I do wish for the listening audience to ponder upon this for the briefest of moments; if the situation was changed and I had an Armstrong Group employee as the referee, Kai Rabeaux, Diamond Dixon, and Cosmo Goldworthy as the ringside enforcers, and ARIA as my opponent, would the general sentiment towards this match not be drastically different? Would there not be countless outcries of how unfair this match is for poor wittle ARIA? Alas, one can only point out the infinite hypocrisy of the EAW Universe so much; I’ve already pointed out the hypocritical dichotomy of reactions to Donovan Duke cashing in and Hans Grayson TRYING to cash in at the Extreme Elimination Chamber, just as I have already pointed out how the very peons that booed Adam Lucas for his iniquitous actions against the likes of Candice and TLA were the same ones who booed me for giving Adam Lucas a taste of his own medicine, pun intended. I could even point out the fact that our virtuous little ARIA has openly and explicitly stated that she intends to use these unfair circumstances to her favor, but I refuse to belabor the point to an audience that has already made their imbecility clear. Ultimately, this hackneyed situation designed to maximize the chances of a premature end to His Immaculacy’s sublime reign will be all for naught.
No matter how much the odds have been stacked against me, this fact remains consistent: the odds of ARIA walking out of that hovel with the EAW World Championship are roughly equivalent to the odds of Javier surviving to become middle-aged. Infinitesimal to none. I care not if the callousness of that analogy bristles your delicate sensibilities, ARIA, because – as I have stated – I view the world from a far grander scope than your own. While your heart is filled with cuddles and rainbows and flowers and ice cream because a singular suffering child gets to play referee for a night, I am focused on expanding an empire that will outlast HIM, outlast YOU, and even outlast ME. We are operating on two entirely different playing fields here, and the fact that you are incapable of perceiving that only reinforces my point that you are just as myopic as the rest of the peasants that occupy the bottom 99% of the United States of America’s population. It is as a result of your infinite myopia that you saber-rattle against me using notions of ‘love’, of ‘justice’, and of ‘what it truly means to be a wrestler’. Do YOU know what it truly means to be a wrestler, cretin? If you believe it to mean that you fight for what’s ‘right’ – a vacuous idea – then you are woefully wrong. What it means to be a wrestler is to CONQUER, ARIA; it means to WIN, and judging by the finely polished slab of gold draped over my broad shoulder, I think I know a BIT more about that than you do, notorious failure that you are. Perhaps if you possessed even the slightest bit of self-awareness, you would have come to this realization years ago, but let us be honest here… self-awareness is far from your strong suit. I actually cannot think of what WOULD be considered your strong suit. Naivete, perhaps? It is certainly naïve to think that your victory last week means ANYTHING other than giving you a world championship opportunity that you WILL, in no uncertain terms, LOSE. It is even more naïve to think that my alliance with the defective weapon ended as a result of MY actions when it is HIS treacherous, defective hand that dealt the blow! What does that leave you with this week, though, ARIA? This isn’t a tag team match, which means you can’t rely on a partner and you can’t rely on a betrayal; all you can hope for is that the cumulative effort of an ill-made child whose sole claim to fame is a health condition, your partner who speaks so haughtily of the mirrors I perceive without ever having seen championship gold in her own mirror, and my defective weapon of an enemy are enough to bridge the chasmic divide that separates our respective capabilities. His Immaculacy actually ENCOURAGES you to hope for that; you most certainly stand no chance against me without these vapid circumstances, so by all means, HOPE for external interference to CARRY you to a title victory!
It is often the case that hope amounts to nothing, and the same can be said about your aspirations to dethrone me this Sunday. If I can survive a max-speed car crash and still defend my title against one of EAW’s most fearsome competitors, if I can successfully defend against the princeling who CURRENTLY has the King of Elite crown, then what makes you think you – even with multiple layers of assistance – shape up in ANY sort of way? What have YOU done to show you are in any position to declare me to NOT be a great wrestler? What have YOU done to put yourself into the authoritative position to declare me to be a mediocre rookie? What have YOU done to demonstrate that capability, aside from winning off the back of a man that I am going to decimate in a handful of weeks? All you have in your defense, ARIA, is your immature hope; that is why you – in retaliation to being correctly labeled as immature – call me a spoiled brat in return. What does that accomplish for you? Yes, I was quite spoiled as a child, those of my position DESERVE to be spoiled. I will note that I intend to get immensely pampered after I set ablaze your hopes and dreams, because that is what I am ENTITLED to. Perhaps then you will realize that the greatest display of your immaturity was thinking that ephemeral principles were capable of being wielded as weapons against His Immaculacy when he would yield the infallible principle of avarice to achieve victory just as he has throughout his vaunted career. And no matter how much you lick that child’s boots, it will be by three slaps of his hand against that canvas that my reign will persevere and your aspirations will disappear.
Learn your place.”
