'Ataxia is a degenerative disease of the nervous system.'
I had to Google it. I admit I'm not that kind of genius to know what it was.
'Impaired balance or coordination, can be due to damage to brain, nerves, or muscles.'
So basically, I've had ataxia for months now.
I'm a fucking full blown alcoholic, smoking weed when I can't get drunk. I've been sober when I show up to work MOST of the time. I mean, I did look kind of tipsy when I got to the building for my debut. And come to think of it...I was kind of fucked up when I forgot that I'd already faced - and beaten - this god damn lunatic once. This bitch that is so crazy she makes Alex Jones look like Richard Dawkins was able to get her win back from me because I didn't even use my judgement to let it lapse.
I just went out there and thought I could play around for a little bit; hold hands, trade some fancy little arm locks and front flips, and then I'd just kick her in the mouth so hard her teeth came out her pussy.
But my ataxia held me down.
It's the same feeling of total neurological dysfunction I feel whenever I see an Ataxia promo. The man whose website looks like a 2000s indie rock band who thinks namedropping a couple other promotions makes him half as relevant as their memories. Dude, hire a visual communications specialist because damn.
You say your main goal is to bring this place down. Well, homeboy, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. You know why Dan Ryan ran away? Wanna know why Lindsay Troy and MJ Flair ran with him?
It's because of me.
I hadn't even officially signed a deal to appear for the Alpha & Omega tournament yet. Rish offered me a spot, and did not hide the fact he did so. He was pitching to a lot of people, and I happened to be one of them who responded with a little bit of interest.
Over in the land of Action Wrestling, I've been getting dicked around to the point that when my partner and I got a Tag Team Title shot, the champs paid the ref off to make a three count after my opponent kicked out at two. So I've obviously been open to the idea of going somewhere that I would actually be appreciated, or at the very least taken seriously as a competitor.
Dan Ryan, Lindsay Troy, and MJ Flair all chose to leave - vacating several titles in the process - rather than potentially have to work with me. Not a done deal, not a guaranteed contract. Just the possibility was enough to send them packing.
So, Ataxia, I've already done more to accomplish your number one desire than you have in how long now...? Doesn't matter, even if you just happened to get this idea five seconds before you said you did. I didn't say or do ANYTHING, and I made you look like a punk bitch.
When we go to Miami next Tuesday, imagine what else I can do better than you. What if I hit harder? What if I take more hits? What if I can throw you around but you can't get me off the mat? All of that just might be possible my dude.
That's why they call me the Dreamcatcher. I take dreams, and I kill them in front of a paying audience.
And I'm definitely better at that than you will ever be.
Gonna keep this short and sweet. I got some other shit to do, like hang out with Wesley and talk about us getting those Tag Titles over in Action. Here, I know I've got nine matches left and if I plan on getting anything out of this next three months' worth of time and effort, I have to start putting in the superstar performance that you all come to expect from me.
But at the same time, none of you suckers of cock really like me anyway.
So fuck you, I'ma do what I wanna do.
If you don't like it, come stop me.
I'm gonna go drink until I get ataxia again, that way after I beat Ataxia The Pun's ass at Evo 62 I can make some jokes about curing Ataxia with a kick to the head. Unlike you, I don't want to kill CWF. In fact, I hope this place gets back to where it used to be. I want CWF to succeed.
Because that means more money for everyone, and more glory for whoever wins this tournament. I want CWF to succeed so that when I win this fuckin' thing, it means more. I want this tourmanent to be the hottest thing in wrestling, and I am going to win this motherfucker at CWF's apex. Why climb the mountain and fight everyone else on the way to the top...when you can build the mountain together, and whoever's working the fastest gets to put the cap atop the final piece...gets to claim the prize?
Fuck killing CWF, Ataxia...I WANT IT TO THRIVE. So keep that in mind, fuckstick. Not only am I better than you at killing CWF, but I didn't even try to do it nor did I intend to. I did it by accident. You can't even do it on purpose. Fuck right off with anything you say you're gonna do to me. Do it. Tuesday night. September 3rd. Hard Rock Stadium. Miami, Florida. Stop me from running out the rest of this tournament. Because I ain't here to pitch a fit and break shit. I'm here to build myself a nice house to stay in for a while, and I got no problem using your gooey entrails as mortar and grinding your bones into grog to make bricks.
I don't know about the rest of you,...like Phoenix LeStrange who can't decide if she wants to stream Sailor Moon RPGs on Twitch or cosplay as one of the Manson girls if that shit happened in 2169, or Duce Jones who is taking more bookings than a county jail. I'm not them. I ain't here to play around and be some special attraction. I'm here to fucking win some shit.
I'm not Amy Jo Smith's "I'm famous for SOMETHING in the wrestling business, but nobody really knows what or why" appear-and-disappearin' ass. I'm damn sure not The Shadow, Nathan Paradine, anybody else y'all got or ever had in ya lives. I ain't the new girl, I ain't the old girl looking to still be the new girl, I ain't the person those little bitches made me out to be in your little locker room Facebook chat, and I ain't here to make the rest of you look good at the expense of my career OR my self-respect.
I'm not who you think I am.
I'm Ariel fuckin' Shadows, you dumbfucks.
Allow me to enlighten you.