Blaze Griffin is sitting on a crate, seemingly deep in thought. His normal wide grin is gone, a tight grimace across his face, almost as if he’s in pain. He looks up as the camera comes over, and starts to talk.
Yeah, I know guys. I lost. I let a lot of you down, and I’m sorry. Sonny’s good, and this time I let him slip me by. But I swear to you, it won’t happen again. I promise, this is not the last time you see Blaze Griffin in the title hunt.
Blaze takes a deep breath, then jumps to his feet and makes a fist, holding it out in front of him.
However, one thing is changing right now, from here on out. I’m done being Mr. Nice Guy, sitting back and not being aggressive enough, and letting title shots pass me by to people who don’t deserve them. From now on, I am going all out, and no goddamn mimic of a guy that isn’t that good in the first place is going to stop me. Hass, I’m sorry, but you’re the first guy on my list. About 5 minutes into Fusion this Saturday, when our match is over, I will be standing tall, creating memories that the fans will remember for years. And you, Hass Johnson, will be KNOCKED the FUCK OUT. Again, I’m sorry, but that’s a fucking promise.
Blaze walks out of the room, telling the camera guy to cut it as he goes.
