"It's been a while since I last did something like this" John Taylor admitted to the sole cameraman in front of him, seated comfortably on a steel folding chair in front of a black backdrop sporting the GZW2K1 insignia.  

It was true, he hadn't 'cut a promo', at least in the conventional sense, in quite some time.  As the cameras began to roll, he remembered what he'd been missing.  This was his element.  This was where he was at his most hard-hitting and his words were at their most poignant.  This was his church.  If some group tore him up in some forgettable backstage attack, he'd find comfort knowing that he could do it right back, verbally, as soon as he was put in front of a camera.  When he'd witnessed Sincere and Gabriel expel three nobodies from the company's rankings on Crimson and follow through with some strong words directed solely at him, all he'd thought about was how exactly he'd choose to turn it around completely.

When the Fatal Fourway match at the upcoming Crimson to determine the challenger to Pimp Bizkit's title was announced, he'd had something of a field day, one of almost euphoric proportions.  On that note, he 'officially' began.

"I find it amusing how far my three opponents for next Sunday night have crept up the rankings since I left my post as World Heavyweight Champion.  Since Aftermath 2K4, I've gradually stopped following the tired trials and tribulations of those midcarders pushed to the ceiling in an effort to 'widen' the main event scene.  As far as I was concerned, it was all of little consequence to me.  I don't need a generous ranking position or forced feud to prove my worth, but it appears as though I've been booked to the contrary.  If I wanted my title back in a hurry, I'd be the champion today.  That's the truth.  The thing is, I didn't want it back so fast...  I didn't need it back so fast..."

"Pimp Bizkit needs that title more than anybody on the roster.  He needs it for buoyancy, to keep his underachieving ass afloat in a roster that is quickly becoming a deep, dark sea of unfamiliar and fresh talent.  As he struggles for breath and hangs onto that for dear life, I walk on water.  I walk over everybody in this company, bar none.  That's just the way it's become.  The name Lord John Taylor is self-explanatory.  I'm recognised - and name checked - far and wide as the best thing to ever happen to this company.  Ask any single newcomer flooding through this company's doors the one man they are there to best, and 100% of the time, it's me.  Ask any of them.  Ask them their thoughts on our World Heavyweight Champion, however, and things get a little duller."

"Our top guy's transition from potent prankster comfortably cruising midcard to to butt of many a midcarder's jokes and pranks.  It's a sad day when a company's World Heavyweight Champion fails to live up to his company's good name, but over the last three months and one title defence, I think we've all become accustomed to the concept of the sad day."

"It's clear for all to see that this upcoming match is of far more benefit to Tytan, Sharpe and Bane than it is to me.  I don't need the title, why would I need the 'rights of contendership' to it?  Bane's irrelevant deductions were just that, deductions.  It appears that in my absence from absolute spotlight, he's gotten just a little ahead of himself.  This is a man with more losses than wins and a seeming inability to take anything without a monobrow seriously.  His cheap, and I do stress cheap victory over the Lone Gunman in Hong Kong last year is, as far as I'm concerned, his only claim to fame and the only thing that would have him considered even a blip of the radar of title contendership.  The fact that he's become the big fish in the proverbial small pond of those just outside the main event scene has given him some empty sense of self-worth."

"Amidst waves upon waves of newcomers, the retirements of various key main event competitors and, of course, Lord John Taylor's preoccupation, 'The God Of Pain' has managed to slip through the cracks and land him in the running for a linear, predictable run at the World Heavyweight Championship that will, no doubt, hog it for everyone until at least Fallout: Against The Odds.  Unless, of course, something is done about it.  When I literally stepped down from title contention, of my own free will, to take on Sincere physically and mentally, I honestly expected that somebody would step up.  I invited somebody to step up and do what I hadn't the time to - Remove Pimp Bizkit from his high-chairr and cleanse the main event of him for good.  A hundred days on, and 'I, The Living Legend' still has the belt.  Predictably, nobody's come near him.  Nobody is let close enough, but I really had expected somebody to force his way through."

"I'm disappointed..."

"I'm faced now with a dilemma.  The job has to be done, that's a given.  Who exactly it is that is capable of carrying it out is another thing entirely.  Justin Sharp couldn't do it, albeit due to interference from The Banester.  That's a problem.  Bane could've just as easily let Justin beat Pimp and then step forth and issue a challenge, but that would've been too logical.  There had to be a swerve somewhere, and this was unfortunately it.  The first time in months that Pimp was exposed and vulnerable, and Bane just couldn't quite manage to let nature take it's course.  He wanted the glory and the heat that was being wasted on the silent Sharp, and through means far lower than he'd have the public believe, he achieved it."

"His turning on his 'leader', Justin Sharp, was orchestrated so as to give the masses the false impression that Bane was some sort of rebel or hero.  This was not the case.  Bane is a gold-hungry coward that hides it behind layers of face paint and wigs.  His interference wasn't the direct result of a revelation that Justin was evil or that he was being used, but rather following in his ex-leader's footsteps.  The second I was out of the picture as regards Pimp and the World Title, Justin forced his way into it.  Sure, it clashed.  It didn't work.  It wasn't accepted by the general public or the bitter locker room, but it happened.  Bane has to be hoping that it works for him as well..."

"And why wouldn't it?  It's perfect.  The Chris Cairns/Devotion link will make for some dramatic TV, for sure.  And, what's that?  Oh yeah, Devotion just happens to be Pimp Bizkit's sister.  Oh my.  It's got all the makings of a video montage, and it makes me sick.  As such, nipping this gross misuse of the World Heavyweight Title right in the bud is the task I've assigned myself for Crimson.  Bane cannot emerge as victorious."  

"Bane, you want Pimp Bizkit?  Then take him.  He's all yours.  There's enough convenient connections there to ensure that you two have a predictably long and incidental rivalry."

"If you want the World Heavyweight Title, however...  Things are going to work a little differently.  You want the belt as opposed to the feud?  Then you challenge Pimp Bizkit now and you see how you measure up. As the last great champion in GZW2K1 history, it is my duty to lift the once glorious title from it's fucking putrid hole, rip it right from Pimp Bizkit's grubby, incompetent hands and restore it's class.  If it goes through you first, then so be it.  I will not, however, allow you two to elope into the sunset of Against The Odds and beyond with MY Championship!"

"I realised something a few days ago.  It must be make each and every day of Sincere and Gabriel as I go without the desire for the World Heavyweight Title.  They won't beat me in the end, that's preset.  The best they can do is distract me from my main goal and be sidetracked into a philosophical war, one waged against the stubborn and thick-headed Gabriel as opposed to the man himself.  My words, as true as anything ever said, seem to almost bounce off him.  It would anger me and upset me if I hadn't seen that that was the desired effect.  The longer I spend trying to repeat myself to Gabriel while Sincere just sits around, the more opportunity available to the rest of the company to slip past me while my back is turned."

"No longer will I allow that to take precedence.  I'm a wrestler first and foremost, and my goal is to become the very best ever.  I'm well on my way, but certain things need to happen before everything finally 'clicks'.  One is the complete removal of Pimp Bizkit from 'office'.  I've been sidetracked too long.  I had something of a revelation of my own recently, and one key thing I realised was that I am NOT a supporting character to ANYBODY in this federation.  I've sat around for far too long now, it's well and truly the time I get back and take what I DESERVE!!!"

"That moniker of 'champion' is too good for Pimp Bizkit.  That belt isn't his to abuse and neglect.  The fire and drive that once created the second-ever Lord Of The Coliseum has come roaring back and I see things clearly.  The belt isn't going to walk back over my shoulder by itself.  It is up to me to reclaim it.  It is up to me to show Gabriel and Sincere that they do not control me and that my world does not revolve around them.  When they are willing to put the effort into challenging me, then they'll be worth my full attention.  For now, the World Heavyweight Championship needs to be taken back into the arms of a strong champion."

"Letting it go to Bane is not an option...  He and Pimp's rivalry is already showing the same signs of inescapable longevity that plagued the belt leading up to Destiny Fulfilled.  As I said, Bane can either follow his head and go for the title, without Pimp, or follow his heart and sort his shit out with Pimp, without the title.  You can't have the best of both worlds, 'God Of Pain'.  I've waited too long to allow it."

"Electric Sharpe or Phillip Tytan winning would just make the title situation worse than it already is.  If the top three contenders, the champion included, are Heretics, then that belt will be doomed to an endless cycle or circle-jerking - It'd never leave the Heretic camp."

"The only man that can walk out of Crimson with the title shot is me.  Nobody else can follow through to the extensive degree that I can, with the precision and drive that only I possess.  Pimp Bizkit's tab is up, it's time I move to get back what's mine..." he closed on a particularly motivational note.  His cheeks red from the excitement and adrenaline of such impassioned speech, he took a moment to soak it all in before the cameraman told him that he'd finished recording.

"Phew" Taylor said, trying to get back to something even resembling a steady breathing pattern, "I needed that."