The following is a transcription of an MP3 file available for download at GZW.com

“For a God, you don’t exactly plead a very convincing case…”

 “Bane.  The effort you put forth is commendable, I’ll hand you that.  Sadly, effort alone simply won’t cut it when you’re dealing with the Lord of the Coliseum.  Your pal Kid Kaos exerted all the effort in the world when he challenged me for my GZW World Heavyweight Championship.  That was my inaugural title defence, and I’d be flat-out lying if I said that he didn’t give me a run for my money – He did.  But in the end, that simply wasn’t enough for the Rizin’ Star to bring the bacon home to the ‘hood…  What makes you think that you’ll be any different?”

 “So many competitors have a seemingly endless supply of energy, fighting spirit, will to go on and guts.  However, the facts show clearly that not one of those traits is substantial enough to dethrone the Lord.  But of course, you don’t believe in evidence – Right?  You believe in half-assed arguments that couldn’t back themselves out of a driveway.  You believe in fabrication, exaggeration and foolish rationalisation.  For all your efforts, Bane, you’ve yet to make even one substantial claim or argument to set yourself apart from the rest.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m for thinking outside the box and going at things from a different approach as the next guy, but your lazy efforts thus far have failed you on all counts.”

 “What do I mean?  I mean that you’ve failed to intimidate me.  You weren’t going for that?  That’s not your bit?  Then you’ve failed to amuse me.  You haven’t even managed to bring a smile to my face, let alone a tear to my eye.  Furthermore, you’ve failed to defame me.  You’ve failed to impress me in any way.  You’ve failed to even get me thinking for a second that you’re any sort of legitimate contender.  Fair enough, that was all mic-work.  Maybe the promo isn’t your thing.  Besides, it’s what you can do inside the confines of the wrestling ring that’ll make the difference this Wednesday night, so what about that?  What about it?  Dull.  Boring.  Predictable.  You squashed Mark A.  Fantastic.  You held onto your pernicious “Scorpio” after the bell.  How groundbreaking.  What’s that, again, a hundred dollar on-the-spot fine?  Wow.  Congratulations.  You sure left your mark…”

 “In fairness, it was a squash match.  It’s understandable that there’s only so many ways an athlete of your calibre can squash an opponent.  What about your singles encounter with the aforementioned Kid Kaos, then?  Did you blow the roof of the Manchester Evening News Arena?  No.  Did you display any sort of quality ring knowledge?  No.  Did you set the crowd alight?  Well…  Arguably.  But that has no bearing to me.  That crowd will chant their three favourite letters, regardless of which oaf is in the ring or brawling in the crowds.  You failed to set me alight, Bane.  That’s what matters.  The fans know nothing.  It’s not they who you must overcome in order to be recognized – It’s me.”

 “Basically, in the last five minutes, I’ve proved that you aren’t the worthy title contender that you think you are.  However, there is no harm in humouring you a little and running through every ‘argument’ and ‘point’ you’ve made over the last week and pointing out the inaccuracies, fabrications and rationalisations.  Please, Bane – Keep watching.”

 “Your first noteworthy statement – I’m overrated.  Granted, you didn’t word it quite so eloquently, but it was as clear as day what you meant.  You say that I think I’m ‘all that and a bag of potato chips’, whereas I’m actually ‘just a potato’.  Is that what you honestly think, Bane?  You, the man that calls himself ‘The God Of Pain’ without any achievements whatsoever to back it up, have the audacity to tell me that I’m tooting my own horn?  I think not.  Bane, at the risk of being accused of bragging, let me remind you that I am the reigning Lord of the Coliseum.  That’s not a nickname.  It’s not some made-up title that I can pay relatives and journalists alike to drop again and again.  No, it’s an accomplishment, easily the most prestigious of them all within Combined Championship Wrestling.  In a nutshell, it means that I’m the best of the best.  It means that I beat Nathan Williams, Pimp Bizkit and Sean Fiery – three former World Heavyweight Champions and future Ring Of Honor inductees – in one night.  Having achieved that, there’s simply no need for me to go around labelling myself “The Best Of The Best” or “The God Of Whatever” – The very accomplishment speaks for itself.  Any competitor worth his or her salt sees those four words – Lord.  Of.  The.  Coliseum. – on my resume, they know that they’re dealing with something spectacular.  Bane, to refer back to your now disproved theory, I don’t think I’m anything.  I know what I am, Bane.  I know who I am.  I know what I’ve done, and more importantly what I can do.  What does that spell for you?  A bump in the yellow brick road.”

 “What about your next enlightening argument, where you told the world that you flat-out don’t respect the Lone Gunman.  Of course, I’m coasting right past your laughable attempt at philosophy when you tried to say that fear and respect were one in the same.  That remarkable display of ignorance speaks for itself.  Back to the issue of you not respecting me, though.  Is that what you think’ll win you over with the critics?  Are you trying to get over as some free-thinking, against-the-rules rebel?  Is that it?  Fuck authority, you don’t want to conform to sample, right?  Join the fucking queue.  I’m already dealing with a whole legion of them in HKWF at the moment.  I’m sure Seth Raide’ll be more than happy to add another “free-thinking” follower to his menagerie.  Maybe Uncle Chris can sort that one out for you.  Please…  Bane, you wouldn’t last a day as a desperado…  Forget that one.”

 “Moving swiftly on to your innovative diary entry.  What was it you called it, again, original?  Wrong again, God Of Pain.  Ever hear of a guy called Derek Ashton?  No?  Perhaps you’d know him as Battlecry?  The Pursuit Of Perfection?  The original GZW2K1 Regional Heavyweight Champion?  The reigning UJW Super Heavyweight Champion?  Still not ringing any bells up there?  Look him up sometime.  The guy made a career out of diary entries.  In comparison, your attempt was paler than the equally original makeup you don seemingly day and night.  I just thought that needed clarification before I really sunk my teeth into the meat of your attempt.”

 “Selective paraphrasing seems to be your specialty, Bane.  Civilised debating, however, appears to be a little too much to ask of you.  As the frontrunner, through publicity alone, to winning the Battle Royale, one would think you could have Uncle Chris come up with something at least slightly relevant and intelligent.  Unfortunately, that just isn’t the case.  I’m silly, you say?  I’m a pussy?  A little complainer-pants?  Tell me, Bane, what the fuck is a complainer-pants?  And on what evidence are you attempting to back up such childish insults?  That ugliness aside, you went on to make a half-believable sounding argument when you said that I’m intimidated by you.  As evidence by what I said earlier, I can put it no more simply than by saying that you’re wrong.  Even still, you simply discarded what could’ve been a developed argument in order to toot your horn, in saying that “in company after company, year after year, sooner or later”, you’ve “always become Mr. Charisma”.  What’s the matter with you?  For crying out loud, could you possibly have gone any further off topic in such a short space of time?  Do you not hear what I’m saying?  I don’t care about your charisma or what you became in whatever other promotions you may or may not have competed in.  It is irrelevant.  It means nothing in the grander scheme of you making it in CCW…  We’ve got charisma coming out our fucking ears here, son, we don’t need any more, especially yours.  As it stands, you’ve not made ONE valid point.  So, then…  What else had you to offer in your diary?  You think I’m threatened by you?  I already proved that I’m not, Scotsman.  To repeat myself from during the week, seeing as how your thick skull didn’t quite seem to digest it – Yes, you have yet to prove yourself.  No, that doesn’t make you the underdog.  That simply makes fans not care about you.  It makes commentators, interviewers, employers, fellow wrestlers not care about you.  You are NOT a valued asset in this company, and until you ditch the rose-tinted fucking view you’ve got on the world or, through some miracle, you beat me, that’s not going to change.  But really, Bane, we both know that the latter isn’t an option…”

 “So then, I reach the end of the road - your offering from this afternoon.  What’s that, three separate promos so far without a single valid point?  Things aren’t looking good, Bane…”

 “Your first observation even remotely relating the Lone Gunman was that of the constant excuses produced on an almost daily basis by those who have fallen victim to me before.  How thought provoking of you, Bane.  Actually, wait – No.  It’s almost as though you watched what I said to say last week and…  Repeated it.  Did I not point out, in no uncertain terms, the infinite list of excuses?  Did I not recite a handful of them?  I can assure you that I did, Bane.  So really, such a base observation is truly of no validity at all.  But wait – there’s more!  Bane’s got a feeling that he’s going to beat the Lone Gunman at Wyldesyde?  A FEELING, Bane?  Listen to all that I’ve just said.  Not a single notion has left my lips without required evidence, even though I’m in such a high position that there is hardly the need for any.  Yet it’s Bane, the yet-to-prove-himself-at-anything Scotsman, whose opinion is of no merit at all, has a FEELING that he’s going to fly into Hong Kong, win the battle royale and beat me to become HKWF World Heavyweight Champion?  Really, you’re not serious…  Are you?”

 “Bane, you don’t speak for me.  You never will, and so I take exception to the fact that you took it upon yourself to tell some faceless journalist exactly the reason why I refuse to speak on the subject of the Battle Royale and my subsequent HKWF title defence.  I can assure you that it is not because I know I’m already beat…  Rather, it is that I have more important matters at hand.  Is that to say I’ll be preoccupied and not on my game tomorrow night?  No, not at all.  As always, I’ll be 100% focused on the task at hand.  This week, however, I’ve had more pressing issues than exchanging a one sided war of words with a slow-witted Scotsman.  You must remember that the second Wyldesyde goes off the air, that’s you done.  It’s right back to square one after that.  You’re back to opening shows with the Victor Storms of this world.  Whoever wins the battle royale tomorrow night is in for a mere fifteen minutes of fame.  The title match will be a flash in the pan, let me assure you.  Whether it’s you, Electric Sharpe, Pimp Bizkit, Justin Sharp or Sean Fiery, I’ll defeat them.  I’ll leave Hong Kong victorious and go about my business as CCW Unified Heavyweight Champion…”

 “Should you even make it that far, Bane, I suggest you make the very most of your fifteen minutes…”