MATCH PROMO don't say my name in vain.

Jon Kelton

The Chosen One
Camp Crystal Lake

Nearly six months. One Hundred and Seventy-Six days. Five Successful defenses.

I exceeded all expectations. I exceeded my own expectations. And I’ve more than earned my spot in the history books The saying, “ I came, I saw, I conquered” just doesn’t do me justice. I did more than conquer. I dominated in every single facet. But that doesn’t need to be said— it was witnessed and realized by millions on a weekly basis. The only surprise was that I wasn’t even close to reaching my fullest potential– and I think that’s for the best. I think it’s great I did what I had to do with that championship around my waist. And I think it’s justified when you consider just how long I held it. I proved myself capable. I proved myself worthy. So when I headed into Battle of Egypt and I faced Alex Myers at their best and lost— it didn’t hurt my ego in the slightest. I accept that loss and I'll even go as far as to say that is one of my favorite matches of my career— because it’s a testament to my work. I pushed Alex Myers beyond their limit. I broke Alex Myers and forced them to become their version of a symbol of vengeance and revenge. I may not have won the battle but in the end, I most definitely won the war— and that to me is all that matter. What I put Alex Myers through will never be forgotten. Those scars aren’t just physical— they’re mental now— and they are something Alex will never get over. So hopefully that was enough to put things into perspective for you, Bryant. Because if it wasn’t— I’m afraid I’m going to have to come clean. Eh, it’s better if I do that anyway. Let’s be real. You aren’t as good as Alex Myers— and that’s saying a lot. You aren’t even as good as Lucas Johnson. This idea you have, where you believe you have some type of edge over me is embarrassing, especially considering you literally just lost to someone who’s legitimately only been wresting for a few months— not even two weeks ago. But of course, logic doesn’t fit your narrative so, of course, you’re just going to speed by that. But I think we should take a deeper look at this, Bryant. Despite the fact that you actually had a chance to make a name for yourself, you did nothing but shit the bed during the New Era Classic, practically rendering yourself a complete nonfactor in your own division.

Let’s repeat that again to see if you can understand the magnitude of just how down bad you really are. You couldn’t even hang in the New Era Classic— against other New Breeds—- YOUR OWN DIVISION. How the hell are you supposed to beat the former New Breed Champion? What’s your strategy? I’m so curious. I really am. Because from where I’m sitting, you have nothing. You run your mouth because it’s the easy thing to do. You think just because Alex Myers pulled off a miracle, you’re capable of doing the same— when in reality you aren’t even capable of lacing my boots—or handing me a plate in catering. I don’t know what possessed you to believe yourself worthy of even talking to me— but let's nip that in the bud right now. You aren’t shit. You’ll never be shit. You haven’t done shit. You do absolutely nothing for the New Breed Division. You do absolutely nothing for the Dynasty brand— and if it weren’t for the fact that I’m so charitable and understanding I wouldn’t have even accepted the idea of a bum like you sharing the ring with me. You should've just been honored I even knew your name and deemed you terrible enough to compare you to Alex– but instead of just taking the forced compliment you went and ran with it and thought you made a point. And you know what—you definitely did but I’m sure it’s not the point you were trying to make. You just proved to the entire world that you are as dumb as you look. I understand being confident in yourself and believing in yourself— hell I’m the poster boy for that, Bryant. But there’s a difference in confidence and overconfidence, and you Bryant have no reason to be full of either. You’ve done absolutely nothing of significance or importance since you’ve been in the company. You have no leg to stand on— and yet for some reason, you believe yourself capable of beating me. That’s cute. It really is. I find that adorable, Bryant. I find it exhilarating because I know that when push comes to shove beating you is going to be as easy as breathing. You aren’t the threat you believe yourself to be. You aren’t a challenge. You aren’t an obstacle. If anything you’re a pushover and an easy path to the Cash In The Vault ladder match. And if you believed yourself to be anything other than that— you are sadly mistaken. And furthermore you’re just plain sad. You’re a loser to the highest degree, Bryant. You’re an underachiever and a waste of space. And I’m going to expose you Friday Night. I’m going to make an example out of you. That sounds conceited, doesn’t it? It sounds like I believe I already have the match won, huh? And hell I probably do— I mean look at your track record compared to mine, Bryant. It’s like comparing apples to oranges or peaches to plums—there’s a distinct difference. You and I are not the same and we never will be. You will never be able to hold a candle to me. You shouldn’t even be allowed to be mentioned in the same sentence as me.

This idea that you new elitists have disregarded logic and fact to present your narratives and arguments needs to stop. You go as far as to say that I’ve been in EAW for thirteen years and I’ve done practically nothing. Leaving out a nearly eight-year gap and failing to acknowledge the fact that I won the 24/7 battle royal a month after returning. I’ve been involved in multiple marquee matches. I’ve put on multiple matches of the week. I’ve sold out arenas. I’m broken records. I’ve made history multiple times. I’ve done more in two years than you’ve been able to do in your entire life. And the sad part is—you can’t even argue against that. But you know what— I’m going to make Bryant Coffey a household name for all the wrong reasons. I’m going to dog walk you Friday. I’m going to embarrass you in front of the entire world, and there isn’t a damn thing you can even do about it. That’s how little I think of you, Bryant. That’s how powerless I believe you are in the grand scheme of things. You’re not even fit to be a stepping stone–you’re honestly just a victim, and you’re too stupid and full of yourself to realize it. But you know what I implore you to give me your best efforts Bryant. I want you to be on your A-game. I want you at your best--- just so I can see the look on your face when you realize you still aren't even in the same stratosphere as me. You will never be on my level. You will never be a threat or a challenge to me. So for you to have the audacity to talk to me as if you are my equal or better is disgusting. Maybe if you had an iota of skill I'd have a little more respect for you. Maybe I'd have taken your words with a grain of salt and given you the attention and praise you so desperately desire--- but I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to lie for your benefit or your ego. Everyone knows how our match is going to go-- because everyone knows that I'm your better. I want you to soak up all this attention while you can. Talk as reckless as you want. Enjoy these fifteen minutes of fame--- because when it's over---- and I promise it'll be sooner than you realize--- you're going to fall right back into obscurity. Right back to the bottom of the card. Right back to losing matches against people who literally just started to understand how to lace their boots. And when that happens no one is going to bat an eye. No one's going to be shocked or surprised. It was a formality. And do you know why it's a formality? I'll tell you; It's because no one gives a damn about Bryant Coffey. And from the way your career has been looking as of late--- seems like you don't care about yourself either.

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