Randall Reaume walked out to the ring, the International championship draped over his shoulder.
Well, well, well, I've finally been booked for a show. Good job! You've taken your first step towards decent management.
Randy put the mic to his side and started clapping.
But, again, you've made an awful booking decision. Why exactly am I facing an NBA reject? Why exactly am I NOT in contention for a title? Why exactly...heh, nevermind. I've beaten so many people, that I can beat this sod easily. Hell, I could do it with my arm tied behind my back. My aspirations are to be undefeated in this place, and horrible management will NOT stop me. Horrible booking will NOT stop me. And if those won't stop me, this dumbass who couldn't wrestle OR talk his way out of a paper bag won't either. With this management, I wouldn't be surprised if I was thrown on the shitty D show, Proving Grounds. Well, at least the figureheads in Management have enough of a brain to not do that..
Randy chuckled to himself a bit before lifting up his mic again.
But, hell, even if they WERE stupid enough to put me on the D show, i'd still win over and over, and the fact is, I will become a champion here one day and nobody will be able to stop me. Especially not my opponent on Fusion next week. I'll do the same thing I did in EHDW, and reign supreme over the idiots and talentless scroats around here. I will win every match presented to me, and I will destroy anyone who gets in my way, even if it HAPPENS to be an authority figure. Now, i'm leaving this disgusting city, and going to Fusion next week to destroy the ratings vacuum known as LeBron Kingston.
Randy dropped the mic and left the arena.
