You do what you want? Please.

[Donzig]

'You know I should be getting ready for my match with Armand, you see I have not actually wrestled a just straight match in.'

Donzig paused, tilting his masked head before he shrugged.

'Fuck all, if I know. But here I am, instead of doing that? Did you know the sound of a crying human baby triggers an emotional response in our brains? It affects the flight or fight response, it makes the risk/reward centers go off, yeah? And so here I am because Rob Naptime can't keep my fucking name out of Frank Windsor's cockholster. Rob sits there and tells me what a bad ass he is. He tells me that him and the Bastards aren't scared of anyone, and will call anyone out. But I never see them anywhere but here, isn't that strange? You see when the Scourge puts someone's name in his mouth? That person is on fucking notice, I will hunt him until the ends of the earth. I don't give two fucks where he is, or where he runs to, his ass is meat! But the Bastards?'

Donzig waved his hand, sniffing.

'Well, if you never leave animal farm? You never realize that you can't tell pigs and humans apart.'

Donzig hit his fist into his palm, staring before he let his hands fall again with a shrug.

'The Bastards tell me that we should all be scared because they do what they want! That he is such a rebel he will go over his allotted time! Well, shit. I better watch out! I am dealing with a real bad ass here. These guys are scary because they made a fake title and laid down for each other.'

Donzig mocks being afraid, and then his hand slams down on the table.

'Allow me to enlighten you fuck boys. You do what you want? I am motherfucking Donzig. I do what I want, wherever I want, whenever I want, to whoever I fucking want. If I want to show up at Legacy and fucking gouge out Sean Bean's eyes? That son of a bitch will have no fucking eyes, you feel me? If I want to take Fowler out back and throw him in a garbage truck? You betcha. Because your rules? They don't fucking apply to me. I am beyond your fucking rules, your little human sensibilities, I am as a fucking God. You went over time?'

Donzig reached a hand inside of his coat, and he produced a long list which he turned towards the camera. It was written all over, long lines of text which Donzig taped before he leaned closer.

'This is writing, Rob. I know how you like to say shit is blank because you can't read, but these are fucking words. They mean things, they have meaning unlike whatever shit you tell yourself when you start recording that drivel that spews from your mouth. But by the way, clock is ticking on that. Because one of things that I want to do? Is fucking crack Lightbringer over it until it quits moving. And you know how it is when I start swinging Lightbringer, Rob. But anyhow this is a list I wrote with AJ and Esmeralda:'

Donzig cleared his throat.

'I ignore every rule in XHF about how many feds you can be in, because I go where I want. I invaded GUNS where I am banned at least three times in the last year, once in a fucking tank. You ever steal a tank, Rob? Like a Sherman tank? No, no, you haven't. I helped start a fire in Fireside, and then I fanned the flames! I stopped the firemen from putting it out! You know why? FUCK YOU! That's why! Because I can, Rob! Because I fucking can.'

Donzig took a deep calming breath.

'I invaded NLW on a whim, because I felt like invading NLW! I went to NLW by myself with just Paul Soutter just to start trouble! Because I goddamned can! I blew up a building, I ran over Spi--'

Donzig jerked to a halt, staring at the paper.

'--Almost. You almost got me. By the way, awesome fake title just outstanding work. Moving right along, I destroyed the KGB, I drove the Founder out of his own company! I went to war with the Pilllars of Violence because I frankly I wanted to! I assembled a team of people who hate my guts to be locked inside of a steel cage with me against four of the biggest names in the XHF because I thought it sounded amusing! BUT YOU, YOU think I should be scared of the Bastards? I have called out nearly every fucking champion on this shithole network and beyond because one day I was bored! BUT ROB RIOT GOING OVER TIME IS SUPPOSED TO IMPRESS ME?! ME!? ARE YOU HIGH!'

Donzig's hand slammed down on the desk.

'Rat Bastard, first ever two time X Crown Champion called him out! Dylan Black, called him out! THE LIVING LEGEND DEATH TRAP! CALLED HIM THE FUCK OUT! Vodka Fizz? Natalie? Majesty? JOFFREY VIPER? SPIKE KANE? I kidnapped Armand Von Krauss and stuck him in a sensory depravation tank for shits and giggles! I kidnapped the Canadian Nightmare and replaced him with an imposter, and turned his mind to Donzig-gun! ME! I hunt a man named Bloodied Fox who killed another man and sent him to Hell, I stalk him and his husband just out of spite! Just for something to pass my time! BUT I should be sweating the Bastards? You can't be serious, you can't be fucking real! I call out Zoran, a man who stabs people for fun at least twice a month because why shouldn't I? But I should be sweating a man who never leaves this company?'

Donzig snarled, eyes narrowed behind his mask.

'Now I know you and your fuck boy cronies are going to sit there and say 'but donzig how many did you win?' because you're basic. You're just sad an basic.'

Donzig laughed, shaking his head.

'My man, a dog's instinct is to hunt. I don't give a fuck what happens when I catch them, I live for this. The thrill of the hunt. So while the three of you claim to love WUK while I am out here waving the banner of WUK? I don't see you three doing jack shit but hiding over here behind the hill that Blood gave you. Oh, you did this and you did that, and I am not relevant?'

Donzig muttered, and he leaned forward again.

'End of days twice, me. 45 minutes in the Rumble? Me. EVERY SINGLE OH VIOLENT NIGHT? Me! Motherfucking me! Stealing the show! Night of Champions? You betcha! There is a saying, Rob. Your show ain't shit unless Donzig shows up. Ain't no one saying I need to book Rob Riot besides Blood. You know why? Because I do what I want! I put asses in seats! ME! ME! NOT YOU!'

Donzig leaned back, staring at the list before he gave a sigh.

'You ever hit a man with a semi so your friend can take over a company? You ever kidnap a man and hold him prisoner in the asylum you escaped from for a week before putting his ass on trial? You ever throw a nazi off a roof? Have you ever at any point decided to shit on the face of a quarterback of the Cleveland Browns while wearing a Steelers jersey because you just wanted to? Just to be hateful? Have you ever pinned a man dying of a cancer because you didn't like your push? And then pissed on his grave? You ever pick up an old man in his sixties and powerbomb off the stage into some equipment? No?'

Donzig sighed.

'You see Rob, you're just a selfish entitled prick. A dime a dozen in this business. I am a monster, I am a monster who doesn't even care that he is a monster. I have done a thousand, a million terrible things just because I wanted to! And my only sorrow? Is that I can't do them again! You ever break into a man's house, break his son's arm, kidnap his family, and torture him in front of them because he said you couldn't wrestle? You ever watch a man die during a match with you, and then dig him up to make sure he was good and dead? Ever powerbomb a pregnant girl into some steel stairs? I walk through this world soaked in blood, Rob. The weight of my sins is heavy as this mask, and I don't even care. But I should be sweating the three of you? I should be worried about the Bastards saying mean things about me in a promo?'

Donzig leaned forward, hissing as he tapped his fingers on the desk.

'Have you ever held a man down inside of the ring, and put a cigar out in his eye? I have. And I didn't feel a thing, Rob. Not a thing, nothing. I never feel anything just rage, and a cold emptiness. You want to be a bad ass, Rob? You want to step into my realm? Okay.'

A hand lifted to wipe across the mouth of that mask, and Donzig shrugged.

'You're a bad ass, Rob? You're a heel capable of anything? But yet you won't fight your fellow Bastards? You didn't want to face Fowler for the World Title? Soft. I call that soft, every member of Donzig-gun, every one I ever met inside of this business from Sinclair Godfrey to Anthony Jordan to Mongo knows I would slit their throat and walk over their corpse with a smile on my lips to face someone for the world title. And I don't even care about titles, yeah? But you're the scary bad ass? You?'

A laugh erupted then, a human laugh that soon became that weird rasping mechanical laugh of Donzig's. He slapped the table, and he shook his head before he laughed again.

'You had a concussion? A concussion? While you and Frank were putting on your little tag match in Los Angeles? You remember the one? I was fucking being caught on fire, I was being dragged through barbed wire, Rob. I had the flesh ripped from my bones by the Sheik who bounced my skull off a parking lot! And somehow, some way, I walked into work the next week in a tag gauntlet? And I beat four other fucking teams including yours before I went down! I sure as fuck didn't lay down for them. And then I went to Belfast and while you were just being sad inside that Chamber? I was inside a parking lot fighting all of SKYforce! But I didn't lay down for them either. You know why? I am a fucking man, kid.'

Donzig took a deep breath, and he thought for a long moment before he waved a hand. He reached up and pulled off his mask, dropping it to the table. His eyes were wild, fingers dragging through his beard before he shrugged. Then he pulled out a folded up paper, and slapped it down on the table. He leaned down, and he dropped the Two Kingdoms title before him. His eyes narrowed, and he tapped his fingers against it.

'You know Rob, if you want to play at being the Revenants? At least Keith Williams had the ball balls to back up his shit. So Mister Main Event I don't give two fucks about the title you pissed on, or the fake one you made up. And Great Donzig doesn't do Blood's bitch work, and I know you're too scared to fight Windsor. Let's settle this in fire and blood, because honestly? I do what I want, and what I want? Is my pound of flesh.'

Donzig rose, grabbing his mask before he jerked the belt upwards as the contract lay there.

'See you soon.'