"And so you tell me I can't take my chances but I told you one to many times you were crying like a bitch!" Crying like a Bitch. Godsmack.

...Really interesting reactions from both idiots.

One guy does the smart thing and blow his fucking brains out and the next guy goes on a crack filled adventure, blaming me for it the whole time, that makes the audience want to blow their brains out!

Seriously. Who approved his budget? I think I found a way out of the debt crisis.

Before I put these two wannabe's in their proper places I wish to address something to my partner. All right. I'll stay on the apron. I'll do as I am told until you need me. Feel free to utilize me for double teams and to give you a five second break. If you get in trouble I am going to save your ass rather you like it or not. I am your partner. That's what my job is. My job is not to stand there and look pretty. Your other partner was a fucking idiot. You carried that match and I promise you. You will not have to do that with me. I take instruction very well and I will stay out of your way. However I want to point a strategic plan that might work out. Guyver obviously wants to beat the hell out of me.

Think about how we can use that to our advantage.

Your a smart man. I'm sure you'll think of something.

Now onto idiot number one. I have to say I didn't know you were going to be that kid. The one that tries to use his “suicide” as a statement for how he feels about the world. Well, no one is going to mourn you. No one even gave a fuck about you. Oh no a moron shot himself in the head.

...

Yeah. No fanfare. No message. Just “blessed reunion with my one true love Raven Gothgirl!”

Five bucks says there is going to be some form of massive return at the last minute with only a hint of a bruise because you did something stupid instead of doing something right.

Kind of like how you wrestle...can't do anything right!

Oh sure. You try. You try so hard. You do the best you can with what little talent you have and make up for it by just being a downright ass. You learned a long time ago that people love to despise you. People don't like you. You use that to your advantage because you see that as a way to advance. In doing so, however, you have lost sight of yourself.

You are not a bad guy.

You just have to do bad things to keep the image. You have to be hard. You have to be cold. You have to be less, or more, than human to succeed.

So many others have talent and some that do not. Those that do not over you piss you off. How dare they get a lucky break just because they are good looking or have a better ability to speak than you.

I can out wrestle them...I am better than them...I am nothing like them.

Truth is. You are just like them and that's what pisses you off. Your drive is...laughable.

The difference between you and I is simple. I'm what you want to be. You...you are what I will never be.

See I am despised and hated as well. Something I know a lot about. The fact is, I put it behind me. Oh sure, I love the cheering fans. It was such a high being a “good guy” while it lasted. Feeling like you belong. Feeling like you were worth something.

Feeling alive for the first time.

Feeling accepted to some is more important than being themselves.

There are those of us, who feel like pariahs, that would give anything to stay that way.

Then there are those of us who realize that we can do things that no one else can because we can live with what our decisions will make of us.

I gave up the life of a hero.

To take up the life of a savior.

I am “The Messiah Pariah”. What this means is that I am not the hero that the people want I am the one that they need. I am the one willing to have them turn their back on me in order to save my federation. I have been doing this since day one of the new regime of CWF.

I have regretted it but it had to be done.

Regret only for my own selfish wants to be loved.

Something that bullet in your skull might have overlooked.

The need for some semblance of love is what drives us all. The need to become something more than our weak fragile selves can be.

You failed.

Because you decided that the battle wasn't worth fighting anymore.

There will come a time when every single wrestler chooses to stay or to finally hang it up and on that day we know our limitations.

I am Ataxia.

I have no limitations.

I make no exceptions.

I am the paralyzing fear that overtakes my enemies and makes them do rash and stupid things to stop me.

You are the rash one.

You are the foolish one who chooses to run away than face your fear.

Then...we have your partner. The stupid one. He will be dealt with in a moment. You had better hope that you did die. You had better pray that this isn't a “stunt”.

Because if it is. I promise you one thing. I will hurt you in such a way that Nirvana himself will be puke and the sight of you. I will rip you into a million broken slices of meat and bone.

You want to run. You better never stop. I will never stop. I will never end. I will never ever let you go.

I am what you can not escape.

I am fear made flesh.

You could have faced me like a man and instead you chose a coward's way out. Well...Cowards have a very special punishment from me.

This is where I suppose if I was one of these “heroes” I would say I hope you survived. This is where I would say that life is worth living.

It's not.

Often times, especially when you do the right thing, no matter what you do it ends up with you being alone.

People flow out of our lives like dust in the prairie. Some of them make more of a impact than others. One got through to you didn't she?

It's a classic example of a fool's love.

She left and you are the one left holding the pieces. It's not fair. I know. I've been hurt that way before to. I lost someone I cared about and in turn I lost myself. I think in the moment that you shot yourself...I think in that moment you found yourself.

From one pariah to another.

I hope you found peace at last.

From one wrestler to another...if this is an act. I swear to God. I will kill you.

No jokes.

No masks.

No gimmick.

No storyline.

This ends. You wanted an ending. I just became either the man who gave you a decent epitaph...or the man who will be your villain for your end.

The game is over.

Now...As for you Guyver.

I could easily insult you. I could counter every single attempt at an insult that you have thrown at me in this panic educed storyline.

Or. I can simply. Make you out to be the joke that you are.

Heh.

I think the later is the more appropriate one.

Enjoy...

Let's point out the fact that no way in hell are their cameras affiliated with SFT at any of these situations. The hospital. Everything. How do we know about your life in any way other than through this media. However I have to say I haven't seen this retarded of a storyline since the A-Team.

Also how your trying to weave me into this ridiculous attempt at a series of unfortunate events when only a week ago we were partners.

By the way partner...got a question for you.

How does it feel to know you got carried? I think this is what is bothering you more than anything in your sheer idiocy in concocting this horrible story where at any moment random characters will bring up the fact that you and I are fighting each other this week. Granted, the world of professional wrestling is on everyone's tongue but people who steal everyone's kidneys?...I find that a little hard to swallow.

Then again so is the notion you are a hero.

I am more of a hero than you ever dream to be.

You like all of this attention don't you Guyver? You will do anything to keep it. Even try to distract the viewer of your horrid promos with fantastical stories that make no sense. You keep trying to make me out to be you villain and yet you fail at even making me out to be a bad guy.

How am I the bad guy?

What have I done to you exactly?

I brought you to this level when I could have let us down. I won the match. You. You just soaked up the glory.

That's what really has you worried. That's what really has you going crazy. That is what is making you lose your damn mind.

The fact that you don't know if you can beat me.

It's understandable. I'm the thing you've always been told should not be.

Someone who is a hero.

Someone who is willing to do the right thing no matter the cost. Not for the attention like you are.

Hell. I at least am original in my masked persona.

Remember folks...THIS...Is what I am fighting.

Yep...Those eighties special effects are really intimidating kids.

How can I fight against something like that?

I mean all I am is a man in a business suit, a pair of opera gloves, and a mask.

Simple. It's all I need.

I don't need to be the center of some intergalactic conspiracy of cannibalistic clowns.

All I need is this microphone and what I do in the ring to be famous.

You want a real “bad guy” to go up against. Boy. You have no idea what I am capable of.

SFT is the best of the best? Really? I find that hard to believe. I really do because if you are so damn good then why have you always been, at best, mid card fuel here? SFT may have some of the best wrestlers in the world, but it is by far not the best of anything yet.

The world of professional wrestling has become a joke again.

The world that we all live in is nothing more than a bad comedy act.

Your promos prove this point because in a world where real wrestlers are allowed to do what they do best you would never get a job.

You want to give it your all? You want to give it everything? Tell me...are you willing to die in the ring?

Are you willing to nailed to a concrete wall for what you believe in?

Are you willing to die a true hero's death?

Because if your not. You can't beat me. No “beatdown” is going to be an excuse for you. This is your moment to prove that you are as good as you claim to be. You want to be the best? You want to prove that SFT is the best federation in the world? Then you got only one chance to do that and it's NOT by defeating me.

You have to win the SFT World Championship.

And then...you have to destroy EVERY federation's world champion to prove that you are the best of the best of the best.

I don't think you are made of that stern of stuff...I am.

Because I am willing to do the one thing that you aren't.

I'm willing to win by any means. I am willing to go down with my last breath.

What are you willing to do besides make excuses?

What exactly am I suppose to be afraid of? You can't even kill off a really retarded moron who eats people!

It's easy. Buy a gun. Blow his damn head off.

Or do you not have the stomach to do what is necessary?

Do you have what it takes to be a true hero?

I don't think you do because let's face facts. I don't need to fight people outside of the ring to prove that I am a hero.

I just need to do what I have to do.

You...You need attention.

Me. I need nothing.

I want nothing.

I am nothing outside of this mask.

You...your not even a real mask. You are a corporate icon. A trademarked gimmick.

Now go pay off your royalty. I got a match to win and I really don't care what you say after this because let's face facts. Even if you win. Even if you pin Ace or even me if it happens.

You will not with the world title and you will be forgotten again.

Because you are not a hero.

You are a wannabe.

A never can be.

A should have never existed.

Me...I'll still be famous. You think this is over if I get kicked out of this tournament? That I am going to go home and never darken your door again.

You assume much...

Which is why you fail.

{We see a ring in a darkened arena as we fade in. The film is black and white. We just see one thing in the ring. Sitting in the corner of the ring with his back to us is Ataxia. He turns his head towards us and smirks.}

Ataxia: We could go to a weird location. I could dig up a body and skull fuck it in front of all of you. That just doesn't seem to fit here. No. Apparently I got to kill myself or get beat up by a psychopath...well besides my “mother in law” Ha! No. See I don't have to do any of that. See this makes no sense to me because you guys do realize...this is only a match.

{Ataxia waits a moment before standing to continue.}

Ataxia: This isn't anything to kill yourself over. It's four corners and a mat. It's nothing right now. By ourselves. Here. There is nothing. Just yourself. The difference between me and the rest of these guys is this is how it is for me when the match starts aside from one thing.

{He points to the opposing corner.}

Ataxia: There is a guy over there in tights. And a guy in the middle dressed like a “Foot Locker” employee. That's it. The crowd. Means. Nothing. The fans. Mean. Nothing. It's all one on one. One guy beating up another. It's conflict at it's simplest...and finest. You see. Tonight. I fight with a partner against two guys who really need a therapist more than a wrestling match. Got a guy with a hole in his head and then Kris...

{Ataxia walks over to “his” corner and gets to the outside.}

Ataxia: My partner wants this to be my position for the entire match. I'm okay with that. I am just fine with that. I don't need to get into the ring to get our opponent to screw up. I apparently all ready pissed you off enough Guyver. That's fine. I don't need to beat you to beat you. If I have to I will leave that to Ace.

{Suddenly we see images of people as the lights brighten. It's almost like a deafening roar as Ataxia smiles. The film turns to color as we see Ataxia smile with those bright red teeth.}

Ataxia: Tell me...can you handle the pressure...when all I hear is.. {It's like someone hits a mute button as Ataxia winks at the camera. He turns to the fans that are there and waves. A sick smile on his face like some sort of madness has infected his mind. Suddenly the fans are gone as the light start to fade out. Ataxia leaps over the ropes and lays on his back in the ring.}

Ataxia: This right here is the only time you will see me on my back in this match. Enjoy it for the brief moment when you hear...One...Two...Three... {We hear the bell ring as Ataxia just lays there. He looks like he is asleep as we start to fade to white.}