"Aye'll eat your fecking hymen, lad! How dare ye tell me this bullshite. Aye fecking pinned Kenjiro Ito, damnit. Aye fecking ended Ito's Ice Age. ITO'S ICE AGE. THE REIGN OF TERROR, YE MOTHER FECKER WATCHING POWER RANGER RERUNS WHILE SNIFFING A COKE LINE WIDER THAN WHITNEY HOUSTON'S COOCH AND LONGER THAN MY COCK COMBINED! Me, me, <b>me</b>! Aye was the Ender of Ito's Ice Age. REMEMBER THAT -- FOREVER! AS LONG AS YOU LIVE. Aye was the only undefeated Ambassador Champion Jolt had . . . despite being the second and the last -- but that's not important!"

Ah, it was already a wonderful night in Montreal, Quebec. For the audience received a completely random, yet spectacular rant from Ken Kaze over nothing too special at all. Despite the heated words and the obvious pent up rage behind the ACW Resident Moron, he wasn't arguing with anyone in particular. Matter of fact, one would have to wonder why his cranium hadn't yet exploded from stringing together those immensely complex lines. Complex in his case, at least. Or perhaps the obscenities emitted beyond the green, shamrock-emblazoned mask were merely symptoms from Tourette's syndrome. Either way, he was still a retard dragging George the trashcan down the corridor.

"Aye'll feck ye up, nekker!" he screamed, pointing at a random stagehand.

"What did you just call me, fucktard?" Ooooh, that random stagehand had a smart mouth on him, he did. Not like it mattered. He was talking to Ken Kaze of all people -- Immortal of the Idiots, Mastermind of the Morons, Juggernaut of the Jackasses . . . you get the point. 

"A FECKING NEKKER, YE BLACK PIECE OF GOBLIN SHITE! Don't feck with this Irish boyo, nekker. Aye'll fecking lynch ye with my CATASTROPHIC CRIMSON COCK. That's why they call me 'Katastrophic' Ken Kaze, nekker. KKK FOR LIFE, NIKKUH!"

"But . . . I'm not even black . . ." The stagehand was just as confused as Kaze had been his entire life.

"Oh, ye shut the feck up, boyo," said Kaze, cocking George over his head.

<B>WHAM!</b>

And the stagehand dropped to the ground, blood drenching his hair immediately. In the distance, God's Forgotten Son's protégé, Gabriel, stood with his arms folded, staring at Kaze with an analytical expression on his face.

"Aye'm the fecking Ambassador around here. And aye say no more faggots allowed backstage."

Gabriel tried his best to subdue his laughter, but he failed miserably in his attempt. Taking notice, Kaze took a couple steps toward the man formerly known as Invincible Gabe and . . . set George on the ground. Gabe's laughter increased, and this seemed to enrage the Elite of GEORGE-jitsu as he began to clinch his fists.

"What's so funny, boyo?"

More laughter.

"What the feck is so funny, fagbox?!"

The laughter ceased. Gabe unfolded his arms and stepped into Kaze's face. Tension was clearly there and it was obvious something was about to go down within a moment's notice.

Until Gabe laughed again. And again. And again.

Kaze, reaching for George, was ready to bash this fucker's head in. How dare this guy laugh at him. Who was he, anyway? A mere lackey of a forgotten son. It's one thing to be forgotten, it's another to be the bitch of that forgotten someone. However, much to the Hardcore Hero's surprise, Gabe simply pivoted on his toes and walked away, still laughing. There was to be no fight tonight, it seemed.

Why was Gabe laughing at him anyway? What <i>was</i> so damn funny? Was he being mocked? Was it Gabe's way of telling him he was a fool? A fool of which no one took seriously, and would cast aside as an opponent not worthy without so much as a second glance? Yeah, well, he would prove Gabe wrong. What did he know? Kaze was going to set himself up a match tonight to prove his worth.