Your Home, My Kingdom | Northern Pro Lethal Lottery | #1

[Mav.]

---

...

Your home.

This right here, this is your home. 

This is where you now reside, this is where you call yourself a star for. It’s been what, nine months now since I’ve shared the ring with you? Nine months since all that controversy around us, since all of those personal vendettas against one another, since the day I did what needed to be done. Now, I know, I’m coming into unknown territory right now. I’m coming into a place where not many know exactly who I am. 

Allow me to introduce myself to you all, Northern Pro. 

I am Jason Long, also known as Maverick, also known as a former X*Crown Champion, also a former XHF Tag Team Champion AND undefeated as Tag Team Champion, also known as the former Destiny Wrestling Heavyweight Champion- You get how it goes, don’t you? You get what it is. Yeah, I’m fairly fucking decorated in this network right now. If you didn’t understand why I was called the King for a while now, those accolades right there just prove it. I have done so much on this network and in so little time.

Put it simply, I’m really fucking good. Like, really really fucking good.

Really. Fucking. Good.

And I didn’t need twenty or twenty-five years of a career to stake that claim.

Here I stand, right here, in your home of Northern Pro.

Again… Your home.

Your home.

Tonight, I want to prove one thing to you all. I want to prove one thing to you all about one man’s beliefs and one man’s dreams. I want to talk to you about Eric Dane, I want you to listen to the sound of my voice. I want you all to take my advice and cut out his voice, and hear mine. Let me clearly explain all of the wrong speakings of how The Only Star just doesn’t get it. All your speech, all your tales, all your comments and statements. All of it- fairytales of a false prophet. Fairytales of a man who’s lost his touch with the entire world. Remember your own words, Eric. Remember what you said.

The point, and the art of missing it.

...

You missed a whole fucking lot.

Eric, we’ve not met for a very long while now. First thing off, how are you? How are you doing right now? How’s your life? How’s your career? How’s your arm? That arm, you knew I was going to ask about it- talk of the town going into this match. That arm which I broke during that Champion versus Champion match in AWF back in January. This match had everything, this match had it all. It had the intense moments, it had the finishers and the close calls, it had the quick turn around. Every-fucking-thing. But look at you, look at you coming up with the excuses. You’re telling that crowd of whomever there is with you in that class that the person I beat back in January was a broken-down version of Eric Dane. A spiraling out of control Eric Dane. A man trying to be a team player. Let me as you about that, Dane- was the AWF United States Champion really out of control? Was that man that put two people into a hospital with career-ending injuries really a team player? Was the man that wanted to have their opponent’s wife to have an affair with you really broken down?

Were you really that man, Eric Dane? Was that really you? 

All I hear is fucking excuses.

...

Excuses.

You went into that match and you did everything in your power to try and make sure that you were going over but you never were. You quit in a promotional video of yours heading into the match. Read my lips. Hear the fucking words, Eric.

You. Quit.

You’re a quitter. You did that, what the fuck does that make you right now? I’m surprised you haven’t fucking done that right now! Sorry, you’re probably waiting for me to make you lose some brain cells. You wouldn’t want to lose your place in your home again now because of me, do you? Eric Dane, the man that walked away. Eric Dane, the man that dropped his title and fucked off- he never vacated it because of injury, no, he walked out of the fucking company because he wasn’t “happy” with how things went. That’s the Eric Dane I have to face, that’s the Eric Dane that I snapped the fucking arm off of. Also, I didn’t snap your arm. I didn’t break it. I forcefully popped it right out of it’s socket, I never snapped your arm into two. I stomped down onto your shoulder until I heard that pop and even then- I didn’t fucking stop. I could have gone on and on about how I “broke” that arm but I didn’t because I have to give you some respect. I have to give you respect where it’s given, Eric. 

You never changed. You never fucking changed.

You walked out of AWF and you fucked off and hid in shit hole Canada because fucking hell, nobody will follow you up there. You were here defending that old title of yours not even six months after what I did to you, hell, may have even been shorter than six. This is why everything you say isn’t fucking gospel, Eric, it’s all just a ruse. It’s all just bullshit. Everything about you is nothing more than pure and utter bullshit and you know it.

You fucking know it is, Eric.

You know it.

So what now? I could talk about Johnnie Valentine but then again, as you said- he’s fake news. Nothing important and nothing ever will make him important enough to talk about. Right now, I focus on that title, I focus on you falling again. I focus on me.

Remember, this is your home.

Your fucking home, Eric.

Your home.

My kingdom.

I said what I fucking said.

---