[As Distor’s music starts, lights around the arena flash intensely, temporarily blinding people. When the lights disappear, Distor is in the middle of the ring, wearing what could now be called his trademark sunglasses, cap, and blue/black shirt.]
“Eh, I knew someone would overdo it when I requested a bright entrance. Well, I’ll fix that up later, tonight, I am back, after my match at Continental Chaos.”
“Well, if you could really call it a match. Last I checked, I figured it was a one-on-one straightjacket match. Now, apparently, some people didn’t get the memo. I seem to recall fighting The Silent Man, which was expected…as well as Dr. Sotsog’s poor excuse at punching, and again, just about everybody here expected him to pull a stunt like that.”
“Now, what I don’t quite understand, is the part about Payne entering our little brawl. I never thought he would have the brain power to understand how to team-up with someone, much less with the same person he fought several weeks ago.”
“In any case, I’ll lay him low soon enough. For now however, we all know what we should be concentrating on. That’s right, the Pride Championship. Now, all the other guys gunning for it have their own accolades to show off, as well as boost their own egos.”
“The thing is, you see, the entire time I’ve been here, I’ve only lost once. Well, if call getting beaten by a silent guy, a second insane wrestler, and a manager that doesn’t seem capable of punching the flat side of a pancake without coming off injured “losing”, then yeah, just once. This is slightly better than several other people I can recall off the top of my head.”
“So, win loss records aside, it doesn’t seem that I’ll have too much difficulty in beating guys that seem to rely on several other people to win their fights.”
“Well, what say we get someone else out here to try and prove me wrong, else I’ll start sounding like the pipsqueaks contesting the Prestige Championship. Geez, the matches were shorter than their trash talking.”
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