I'M STILL THE CHAMPION

[Perello]

“YOU KNOW WHAT?!”

The screechy voice of Prince MacRear was heard clear as day, but the Sultan of Selfies was nowhere to be seen. The camera was focused on an orchid colored wall, more than likely the wall of Prince’s bedroom.

“I’M...THE...CHAMPION!”

MacRear was still delusional after losing in the finals to Nest for the Apex Championship, but he firmly believed he was the champion.

“You see that wall? That’s where my title should be. That’s where I PLANNED to hang MY championship after New Generation, but it was stolen from me! I’M THE APEX CHAMPION OF LDFC AND I DON’T HAVE A CHAMPIONSHIP TO PROVE IT! And what does LDFC do about this crime?!”

The camera fidgeted a bit until it was spun around, showing the gorgeous face of the Sexy God, Prince MacRear.

“NOTHING! THEY DID NOTHING! THEY LET NEST WALK AROUND THE PLACE LIKE HE’S THE CHAMPION, BUT WE ALL KNOW THAT I’M THE APEX OF LIONS DEN FIGHTING CHAMPIONSHIPS! I’M THE FREAKING CHAMPION AND I WON’T ALLOW ANYONE TO TELL ME DIFFERENTLY!”

MacRear showed off his duckface as he walked around his bedroom, falling back first onto his bed.

“But instead of punishing Nest for his thievery, LDFC decided to play along with him. They’re letting him carry around MY championship like it he won our match at New Generation! No, nasties. NO! I WON THAT MATCH! I’M THE CHAMPION! AND NO EDITED VIDEO ON YOUTUBE OF NEST PINNING SOMEONE THAT’S LUCKY ENOUGH TO LOOK LIKE ME IS GOING TO TELL ME DIFFERENTLY!!!!”

MacRear’s cheek started to turn red, frustrated by Nest ‘stealing’ his championship.

“I’M THE GUY THAT PEOPLE TUNE IN TO SEE! I’M THE GUY WHO GOES UP TO FRONTIER UGLY ARTS AND BEATS A FRONTIER UGLY ARTS WRESTLER. DECISIVELY IF I MIGHT ADD!”

MacRear giggled.

“It’s things like that that make me the champion. You think Nest can go to FGA and pick up a win so easily?! HE CAN’T! You think Donovan Cross could show up in FGA and pick up a win?! HE CAN’T! ONLY I CAN BECAUSE I’M AMAZING! AND BEAUTIFUL! I’M THE BEST TALENT ON BOTH THE FGA AND LDFC LOCKER ROOM! I RUN THIS SHIZNIT, OKAY?! ME. I RUN THIS. ME. I AM THE CHAMPEEEEEEEN….MY FRIEND! AND I’LL KEEP ON FIGHTING TILL THE END!”

It seemed like MacRear was trying to convince himself now, looking back at the wall where the Apex Championship should’ve been.

“Time and time again I show the world that I’m not just a pretty face. Time and time again I show the world that I BELONG in this business, but still...after all I’ve accomplished...after all the fans jumped on the MacRear Train...it’s still not enough for LDFC. THEY WON’T EVEN GET ME MY BELT BACK FROM THAT UGLY, UNBATHED SLIMEBALL!”

MacRear paused, squinting his eyes as he looked at the camera with the most serious face he had ever made.

“I guess I’m going to have to do more, huh? I GUESS I HAVE TO START HURTING PEOPLE TO SHOW EVERYONE THAT THIS IS NOT A FUCKING GAME! I AM SICK AND TIRED OF BEING WALKED ON AND PEOPLE NOT TAKING ME SERIOUSLY. THEY THINK I’M JUST A PRETTY FACE, AND GOSH DANGIT I’M NOT! I’M TOUGH! I’M A FIGHTER. I’M A CHAMPION!”

MacRear huffed and puffed, never taking his eyes off the camera.

“But you nasties won’t see that until I do something drastic. What happens at Pride is all NEST’S FAULT! Donovan Cross? Sorry, toots. But you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Ciao, bitches.”