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*Static cuts across the screen before transitioning into a shot of the backstage area of the Don Haskins Center in El Paso, Texas. The camera is moving down the main backstage hallway, where not a soul can be found (it is early Saturday morning, after all). After a few moments of wandering, the camera comes across the figure of Syndicate, the Undisputed World Heavyweight Champion, leaning against a wall. Wearing a black zip-up hoodie, blue jeans, and black Nike sneakers, Syndicate holds the World title on his left shoulder as he stares off into space, apparently deep in thought.*
Syndicate: I'm not asking you to "accept the booking", Bob. I'm simply letting you know what the future holds for you.
*A small smile appears on his face as he continues.*
Syndicate: This is an exhibition, yes. Nothing's on the line. I don't face any consequences if I lose. But to me, that doesn't matter. I am not here in the WWX to only win when it matters. I don't wrestle in order to be seen as a plucky little guy that steals championships without really "becoming" a champion in the process. And, quite frankly, I am not here to lose to men like you, Bob. You may be on the upswing, sure...but you're not on my level. Not yet, and frankly, not ever.
Syndicate: You wanna know why I say what I say? Or, put more simply, why I'm a cocky ass bitch? Because I have to be. Because people like you don't give me ANY respect, ANY significance. You brush aside my list of accomplishments like they don't matter. You see me as a plucky little kid instead of the heavyweight champion that I truly am. I come off as cocky because I am the ONLY one in the WWX that believes in the Los Angeles Outlaw. You know how frustrating that is, Bob, when nobody gives you a chance in hell of succeeding and then when you do, they push you aside like you don't matter?
*He shakes his head.*
Syndicate: This is all I've got, Bob. That ring, this championship...it's all I've got left. Because of that, regardless of if there are stakes involved, I have to beat you, Bob. I've got to. There's no "plan B", there's no other way of going about it. I need to win at Ravage because I need to show the world exactly where I stand in this company - right on top of it. I need to show that I belong as the top guy, the UNDISPUTED World Champion.
*Syndicate looks right at the camera with a dead-serious look on his face.*
Syndicate: I will beat you, Bob. There's no debate about that. I am faster, I have better stamina, I have more heart, and I have an unmatched drive to succeed. This is your future, Bob. You may find success after we face off, but this week...that success won't be there. Neither will a W for The Beast. Instead...it'll be another accolade on the shelf of the Outlaw, another legend KILLED by the "Legend Killer" himself.
Syndicate: This is a dream match, Bob. Something the WWX has never seen before and, maybe, will never see again. A once-in-a-lifetime match, if you will. But everyone - EVERYONE - in that El Paso crowd will already know the result, because they listen to my words. They know what I can do to people like you. That crowd RESPECTS me, Bob. It's about time I make you respect me too. Welcome...to the Syndicate.
*Chuckling, Syndicate walks off, and as he does, static flows over the shot.*
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