*Our world, per the usual is dark. Our auditory receptors do pick up something in the distance. What it is, we can't quite decipher. The sound gets closer. We now recognize it. The soft musings if the Man of Chaos himself. He seems to be alone this time however. As he speaks to himself in whispers, we are suddenly blind. Blind by a bright light and he kneels in front if us. His right hand holds a black cloth. His left elbow rests upon his left thigh as his piercing blue eyes fire a laser straight through us. Behind him is a line of trees. Absent of their leaves as the sky above is grayish. His hair almost floats over his shoulders. His bare torso, wrapped in artwork as his right hand wads up the black cloth.*
"The squatters all over the social media circles tend to say that I found a way out if the match a couple weeks ago in Detroit. Filling the rumor mills with unsubstantiated dribble that only the parasites of this planet can. Truth is. I refused to show up. I didn't feel the need to make that old used up man cry again. I've done it before. No need to reshow my abilities against him again. This Evolution card has me booked against a man that is just about thirty years my elder. Interesting if you ask me. Am I going to be the one to destroy and break these elderly she'll of themselves wrestlers? I'm far superior to them and their abilities, both in the ring and out. On top of having to cripple this Terry something man, I have to do it in Cleveland Ohio of all places. The origin of scum and human filth. I'm disgusted."
*Zolton shakes his head as the words are filled with disgust and laced with hatred. He adjusts his positioning slightly, facing us more head on rather than the slightly crooked stature.*
"Terry Gould. A man with no real history in this sport. No real name value. I've accomplished more in the decade I've been in this business than this pathetic excuse for even a mouth breather has accomplished in the damn near six decades he has been alive. You had an opportunity to at least slide a foot through the cracked door of opportunity in Detroit against a fellow bottom dweller in Fuller and what did you do? You looked your age. You looked your experience level. You quite frankly looked horrendous Gould. You think you will have any kind of chance of knocking the taste of defeat out of your mouth against me? Shit old man, go back to your rocking chair on your front porch and pretending to be spectacular to the young moronic impressionable minds of the children that come to your house. None of which you have any connection to."
*Zolton's tone becomes ever more intense. Disgusted. Even more sinister with his stare as well.*
“I am willing to destroy all pathetic, bottom feeding, mouth breathing assholes this new regime of Championship Wrestling Federation wishes to feed me. Gould is just another victim on a long list of previous ones and future ones. I came to this company to not only bring it from the brink of collapse but to prove to everyone that has doubted my abilities and skills before that I am truly one to fear in this company. The next victim to be try and find a way through the world of Chaos I create is someone that should have never ever entered this sport. All of you that sit on your couches, pay to see someone try and defeat me in the arena, can boo me. Yell obscenities in my direction. I will feed off of them. Relish in the misery that I will bring to you. Terry Gould is nothing more than a small pile of dust beneath my boot. After this edition of Evolution, the new regime of this company will realize that their little games of keeping me away from the championship will end in their demise. I am Zolton. I am the Man of Chaos. I have wasted enough oxygen speaking about this pathetic old, wretched man that I am forced to do nothing more than be spectacular against. Championship Wrestling Federation, the chaos of twenty twenty is only just beginning.”
*As he finishes his speech, Zolton, in the time it takes to blink an eye is no longer in front of us. The long field and downhill grade that was behind him is what we see. Only for a moment though because darkness once again surrounds us. For another moment we here the soft musings of Zolton fade off into the distance before we hear nothing just like what we see.*
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."