Hello, my intended...
Well, I know Voss is at the end of his rope now... Look, already planning a career in another fed with the guitar shots. Sadly, that assumes you're going to be able to wrestle for them after our match. Mayhap you can trot to Vinnie Mac and try on the 'Double J ' neon suit? Mayhap you can roll to Atlanta and get some 'stroke'? Mayhap you can roll to ECW and become PJ Walker's kid brother... Justin Competent? Heh. The fans are finally catching on that Justin Voss is a pitiful pansy, and are showing remarkable intelligence of late by cheering for the Angel of Death MOST EXALTED. This pleases me. Naturally, much like any other con man that finds he's not fooling the marks anymore, he panics, and a perfectly good guitar pays the price for his hubris...
Now, some old business... Allow me to congratulate you on your earlier ASTUTE choice of musical interlude... See, Bohemian Rhapsody is the story of a young man - not unlike yourself, that did something STUPID - ALSO not unlike yourself, and is now going to be put to DEATH for it - EXACTLY like YOURSELF. Now, I know the closer you get to our match the more desperate and irritable you seem to get. This pleases me. Of course, if you'd rather have the parting memories of those closest to you be in a bad light, who am I to judge? Heh. You assume much, Voss. First, you accuse me of actually SAVING your interviews for something besides birdcage lining, and THEN reposting them to make you look bad. It is to laugh. Voss, I ALREADY make you look bad. Every time I speak. And, more importantly, every time YOU speak. Such tactics are beneath me, and always will be.
You've got to ask yourselves... Does Voss really have a CHANCE? No, clearly not. I know it. YOU know it. And from the way Voss is acting lately, he's JUST starting to put together the same conclusion... Talk about slow on the uptake, eh? But what do you expect from someone that hires pugnacious dwarves with speech impediments so he can be both a good speaker and handsome by comparison? Someone who retains vacuous hookers from the roadside so he can be the brains of the group? Such a thing as this is more suited for a carnival shill than a the poor approximation of a wrestler he attempts to be. ....And that's just sad.
I can understand your concerns, really... In the awesome splendor that is the luminance of the Angel of Death MOST EXALTED, people will know you as the guy that REALLY goofed up signing this match. And when the match starts, people will know you as the guy that's doing all the screaming. Heh. Mind you, I can see that you're worried that after I use you for a mop to clean the ring of your blood, people will remember you as a mop. Allow me to be the first one to say that that will not happen. Why? BECAUSE NO ONE WILL REMEMBER YOU, PERIOD.
Look at the evidence, Voss... I'm taking over your spot. The fans are cheering for the HEEL. I bought your midget... The price? Nun, but I digress... Heh. And since nobody managed to capture the Barbie Bounty, I have several hundred bucks with which to buy your bimbos. Your world is collapsing, Voss... And soon your CHEST will MATCH it! The guitar shot was cute, kid, but it doesn't put you over as a dangerous anti-hero any more than it does Double J or the Honkytonk Man. Come to think of it, you have alot in common with them even BEFORE the El Kabong... None of you can match your own frantic hype without someone in the other corner following the SCRIPT... And by the way, I got the script your people sent... Makes for some fine kindling... Heh. Now, if only I had something to fry up... Oh, wait... I do. Or, more accurately, I WILL.
So, before you become a vague sense of deja vu for an old Morris Day video, let me remind you that there's no shame in losing to me... YOU are a measly speck of insignificance in the Grand Scheme, and it falls to me to see to it you learn your place in the world. And learn you SHALL. I PROMISE.
You're welcome... See you SOON.