I'll Spell It Out For You.

[Oh-Oh]

We open to Oxford Osland sitting on a lazy-boy the middle of an empty room at an undisclosed location. In front of him is a large flat screen television, and as we zoom closer we recognize that our hero is watching what appears to be wrestling, but there is so much more going on.

Osland: "Night of Champions 12. The Celebration Slam Match."

Osland cringes and turns his face away from the action after a few moments.

Osland: "The story goes that my promoter at the time approached me about this event because there wasn't a single member of his roster that was interested in taking part in this event. In order to entice me to accept his offer, he wrote me a cheque for one-hundred large with the notion that this would he would 'make things right' for me going forward."

Osland smirks while reminiscing about that very moment.

Osland: "When I was told about the stipulations for this contest, I thought he was just winding me up. When I realized he was serious, I nearly handed the cheque back to him."

Osland glances back over to the screen to see a large cake with candles. He shudders before continuing.

Osland: "When all was said and done, I accepted on one condition. That condition was that I was going to outwardly display just how ludicrous the entire fiasco truly was."

We finally see a smile, as Osland reminds himself that he was able to deceive everyone with his intentions.

Osland: "So I signed up for lamaze classes since being able to blow out candles was going to determine who won the match, and would then be recognized as the best *cough* wrestler *cough* in the world."

Osland holds his abs and chuckles.

Osland: "The whole thing was shot as if I was Rocky! The Final Countdown was dubbed over my breathing exercises, and I was honing the skill-set that mattered the most in this match and seemingly matters most to people like you. Blowing Hot Air."

Osland smile is replaced with a cunning smirk.

Osland: "It gets better. My next move was to crash a high school football practice so I could slap around some tackling dummies, since the next stipulation in this *cough* wrestling match.... was to smash open party favours that were at ringside."

Osland is pleased.

Osland: "So while I made it seem like I was training for the "wrestling match" of my life. What I was actually doing was publicly urinating all over the fact that I had to sell this circus as a legit contest."

We feel the disdain.

Osland: "Spike, are you starting to understand why the list of accomplishments that you tout incessantly have no value in my world?"

Osland pauses the screen, and we see Spike Kane right there, as clear as day.

Osland: "Oh, look who it is. Our friend Spike is right there in this match too. I thought I needed to share a ring with you to understand just how scary you are..."

Osland pulls a shoe horn out of his pocket and brandishes it for the camera.

Osland: "Here you go Spike. Use this to pry your foot out of that pie-hole of yours. From where I sit, you've done a marvellous job of burying yourself. Whether it's those cuss-laden, non-sensical rants that you spew - or the fact that you are continuously showing everyone how wildly misguided your approach to our championship match is. I mean, I need to do some gardening this spring, can I borrow your shovel?"

Osland facepalms.

Osland: "Ooops, that's not direct enough for our boy Spike. Let's try again... Just hand me your shovel Spike and stop burying yourself. Clear enough?"

[Cold.]

Osland: "Based on the way he responded to my Pillars comment, it's now abundantly clear that Spike isn't aware of who the original 'Four Pillars' are. Spike also isn't aware of how ridiculous it sounds whenever he brings up their version - and how to any wrestling purist it comes off like juvenile 'try-hard' bullshit. The name is revered enough to be left alone, never to be tampered with. But in today's day? All of these wannabes are more concerned with their entrance music, their nicknames and continuing to bastardize professional wrestling."

The snark is real.

Osland: "So when all else fails Spike decides to show just how much his ego truly drives his entire being. If he's not spreading himself thin by taking bookings everywhere under the sun, he's overlooking the biggest threat to his imaginary position within a hierarchy that nobody within W:UK thinks twice about."

Osland sneers.

Osland: "An ego so big, that our 'Hardcore' Chumpion has declared that he will test himself on the mat with yours truly. Well, if this isn't Christmas coming early this year, I don't know what is. I want you to do me a favour Spike..."

Osland pauses for a brief moment.

Osland: "At the very moment in our match when it dawns on you that you've bitten off far more than you can chew on the mat with me... I want you to circle back to all of the self hype you littered the airwaves with. I want you to remember the fact that this is PPV for the top wrestling company of the world...That even the 'pillar' you claim to be will not be able to withstand quick-sand that a you've stumbled into..."

"When your anxiety peaks, and you're no longer in control of of the amount of air that your lungs receive."

"When I clasp my hands together tightly, and make you aware that you're about to drown."

[...]

Osland: "I'll whisper gently in your ear and remind you."  

"You brought this on yourself..."

"And I'm the man who's doing this to you."

"Your NEW W:UK British Television Champion - Oxford. Osland."

[Silence.]

Osland: "This burial was brought to you by yours truly without the use of a single cuss word...."

[...]

Osland: ""Well, maybe just one."

Cut.