MATCH PROMO Super Sayian Viz

Visual Prophet

“He’s a fucking wizard” - Your Mother
EAW ROSTER
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Hey look it’s Team Dynasty!




Flag bearer. Standard bearer. The bearer of bad news.

The Visual Prophet. He is I and I am him. The Rhinestone Cowboy. Y’all see me at the Met Gala? I had to save MGK from Conor McGregor. He ain’t want no fade besides that god awful hair cut he had. Machine Gun Kelly went to Supercuts and asked for “That bullshit in Myles head”. That’s why Conor wanted to fight him. He was offended by that fuck boy hairstyle. I don’t blame him but c’mon, Conor. We at The Met Gala. Spilling Proper 12 everywhere. Got stains on my suede loafers. I was penny loafing while Team Showdown was pinching loafs. I was penny loafing while New Eden was pinching pennies and shit. MGK owes me a hundred favors for saving his life from The Notorious One. Sending the invoice over Ashleigh Verveka. “For professional services” 80 bands will suffice. Met Gala was supposed to be my off day. Instead, I’m out here doing impromptu security duties for the insecure. Yikes. I do this shit tho. I don’t give a fuck about no UFC beat downs. Do I look like the chairman? No? I look like the black Channing Tatum and the resemblance is uncanny. I need a slow motion video right now. We that exceptional. Certainly solidified. BTW I’m up for the role in the next live action movie based on The Uncanny X-Men. MCU Bae might shatter y’all feelings.

Crikey.

Smooth criminality. Laying down the law and order and restoring stability word to Stabler. Come take a stab at this slab of man meat. Open invitation. It’s hunting season and yall hoes ducking. The Visual is stunning. The Visual is gorgeous. The Visual is what it is. The Voodoo child, VPLA, Cartier, Golden Shovel, Head Honcho of the Dynasty clan turnt like Daytona 500. We marathon sprinting while the competition tying they shoes. Big dog. Grrrr. Propheteer profiteering and problem solving everybody’s issues laid before me. Theron begging grown men to kneel meanwhile StarrStan literally was on hands and knees begging me to lead the battalion. To lead the rebellion. To lead the squadron. A decree that I embraced. My leadership has been great. SOSA has a new gleam on his face. Future brighter than Andre Walker’s teeth. Meanwhile, instead of giving me credit for my stellar casting decisions, Impeccable script writing, or my immaculate foresight to turn a real EAW angle into a reality show parody into a mini horror movie…y’all still cutting the SAME stick in the mud promos y’all was cutting before my latest Netflix Special dropped.

This bitch Minerva said “pulchritude” in a promo.



You inconsiderate little bitch. Chris Elite can’t even pronounce that. You got some nerve, missy. Bringing Webstar’s dictionary out for “The Burning Cross” but you got the audacity to throw that useless ass word out like we all should just know what “pulchritude” means. Chris Elite and his 3rd grade Dyslexic reading comprehension is in shambles just trying to get past the first syllable. You cease to disappoint me, girl. No wonder you fit in so well with Drake and Myley Cyrus. Try-Hard-Ass group of groupies. Minerva, sit your stupid ass down. Minerva, shut your stupid ass mouth. Minerva, close your stupid ass legs. Minerva, stop…wait. You ain’t gotta close your legs 👀. Wait on second thought…yeah. Close those legs. You have the swagger of a soaking wet homeless woman and reek of the smell of a bag of warm onions with horseradish on it. Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher already shared the tea on how some of you Anglo Saxon’s go a while without bathing. That coochie probably marinated in sweat and all types of bacteria. Butthole got the plague in it probably. Nasty bitch. Spooky slut. Oogie Boogie ass broad. Picture Minerva wrestling a 30 minute classic on Voltage or an FPV, celebrating with Drake King and Myles over some sparkling apple cider cause Drake is a 30 year old thats scared of alcohol, and after being in one of the most strenuous and physically taxing competitions in all of the world…she doesn’t wash her fucking ass, goes to her hotel room, and just rubs her burnt toast with mayonnaise smelling snatch all over those white Marriott suite sheets. CRICKEY! Those house keepers probably think Godzilla wiped his ass with that entire bed the night after Minerva sleeps in it.

Also, Imp…you are trying to downplay me beating you because of a little bitty silly interference?

Sure, Dr. Angelo D’Angelo had a few unkind remarks to make about your white ass. Maybe him getting involved in that manner was a distraction. I’m willing to concede that. We are willing to take that under consideration. Upon further review of said King of Elite match between The Visual Prophet and you yourself…I still don’t give a shit how you feel about how it went down. I don’t give two damns, three fucks, or a single shit about whether you approve of how I beat that ass at King of Elite. In fact I HOPE the way in which you took that loss hurts as much as any loss you could have taken ever could possibly make you feel. I hope you losing to me via an interference leaves a bullet wound in your heart that can never heal. Also, how much did he REALLY interfere? I’ve seen and had matches where grown ass men and women have physically assaulted me while the referee isn’t looking. Matches where members of New Eden tried to murder me while the official is everywhere and anywhere else besides being observant to the happenings of said match and I’ve lost numerous times this way. Did my beloved brother Dr. Angelo D’Angelo assault you? Impact, did my beloved brother Angelo touch you? Did my beloved brother swing at you? Did he throw a chair at you? Did he try to stab you with a knife? Did he sneeze on you? Did he blow air in your ear like Lance Stephenson did Lebron? Did he pull a gun out on you, Imp? Did Angelo try to run you over with a car? Blow you up with a Jeep? Did he sicc a Tiger on you? Nope? He didn’t do anything like that? All he did was talk a little bit of shit. All he did was spill just a LITTLE bit of truth to, for, and about your fair skin fragile spirit having ass and you KNOCKED my man’s out cold. Now, maybe Angelo touches you…that would make sense. In fact, if Angelo did attack you I would have lost clearly. But, instead…you put Dr. Angelo to sleep and after wasting your time doing that, you turned around and got flatlined courtesy of The Visual Prophet’s iconic “KISS TO THE HEAD” elbow. How you discounting my win on these grounds? You say I never beat you in the history of ever-dom without having an interference in a singles match. Ok, semantics Sammy. Guess what? I still beat. I still beat you. The Visual Prophet beat Impact at King of Elite and you still salty about it. You saltier than the Pacific. Your middle name must be Morton’s. We sprinkle Simpact outside on the sidewalks in December to help melt the snow in the winter…cause you salty. Salt Bae does the Spiderman meme when he sees you. Imagine telling a grown man that just got done having sex with Saweetie that it didn’t count cause he wore a rubber and came in 4 minutes. Might not be what you wanted but…he still beat. Speaking of Saweetie, all y’all celebrity crushes got me saved as “Pizza Hut” in their phones. I’m a sex symbol. A beautiful beacon. Aint no cuts on this pretty face.



Minerva invoking ghosts with her Halloween 365 costume wearing ass. Dusty ass pilgrim Pagan ritual retarded…you are fucking weird. Go lick a ouija board. Only ghost im concerned with is in my driveway. Team Showdown, Team Voltage…do you not see the force sprinting towards y’all on a one way nose diving plane straight for you by way of Friday Night Dynasty? Bulletproof SOSA Harlem shaking thru the pressure. Bloodsport Andre Walker looking as stellar as ever. Big Viz? Vizzy Baby? Voosie Slide? V’Jango Unchained? The fucking Wizard? The Founder of The Visual Prophet Leadership Academy?!? That guy is in rare fucking form, people! TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY FIVE POUNDS! That’s super imposing. Territorial Invasion poster? My face is super imposed to it. Muscles looking marvelous don’t you see the Superman poses he’s doing? Nike is how we win because we’re supposed to just do it. New Eden is the wave until we dispose of the movement. Showdown barely shows up just to get showed up because they’re clueless. Better yet, they’re useless. You’d think Imp would be used to this. Vizzy the Abuser. Drake the Redeem these coupons at your nearest CVS ass bitch. We swat moths with our barehands where I’m from. We kidnap the Warlords where I’m from. I’m way too sexy to take an L to a poor man’s cult leader. I’m way to sexy to take an L to Theron’s sweaty ass. The air conditioner is on yet your forehead is perspiring. You bloated bitch. PUT ON A GOD DAMN HEADBAND. Ugh.

Stadium Stampede hasn’t even happened yet but I’m shooting my shot right now. Calling it on September 14th, 2021. The Visual Prophet will go down undoubtably as THE GREATEST CAPTAIN EVER! Greater than Captain Charisma, Captain Crunch, Captain Planet, Captain Caveman, Captain Jack Sparrow, Captain America 1-2 and the black one, Captain Morgan, Captain Kirk, Captain Drake King, Captain Impact, Captain Han Solo, Captain Kangaroo, Captain Hook, and any other Captain you can conjure up. The Skipper from Gilligan’s Island? He was a captain and he couldn’t hold my JOCK strap. If they had me as Captain on that Island we would have been back home in no more than four days. The rumor growing up was Captain Crunch cuts the roof of your mouth. I do you all one better…one KISS TO THE HEAD will have your lips swollen like puffer-fishes. Aint no other Captain in EAW history going to be able to compare to me after Stadium Stampede. I’m KING CAPTAIN and that’s in all caps. Captain Falcon could never. Drake and Imp will never. No cap. Take a nap. 🛌

XOXO
 

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