Really...?

[Butcher.]

"No you listen to me, I've waited for a BLOODY MONTH TO GET ON A CARD!!! A MONTH!!! NO CALL, NOTHING, AND NOW YOU--I'M TALKING!!! YOU SHUT YOUR BLOODY HOLE!!! YOU PUT ME OFF FOR A MONTH?! IS THAT IT THEN?! YOU THINK THIS IS GONNA MAKE IT ALRIGHT?! PEACHY KEEN IS THAT IT?! YOU LISTEN TO ME YOU SHIT: YOU MADE ME AN OFFER!!! ME!!! And you have the balls to come to me, out of the blue and offer me a title shot, I've been out of competition for--history?! DON'T GIVE ME THAT BULL!!! You were going to one and done me, and believe me I know when I'm bein' made a fool out of. So here's what I'm going to do, I'm going to win your Old North Championship. I'm gonna beat every person you put before me, because you think these blokes and slags are the future or something am I right? And then I'm going to be asking for a pay raise and if I don't get that I'm just willin' to do a little debt collecting from everybody on this shite roster. Because it seems you lot need a bit of discipline. Don't call this number again unless it's about compensatin' me for my loss of funds. Right then? Sod off."


...Beep...


...

"SO let me get this straight then..."

The audience is introduced to a familiar voice. And this familiar voice doesn't sound all that happy. He comes into frame, scowl on his face, he rubs the corners of his mouth.

BUTCHER:  So I sat around, yeah, lookin' to get back in competition, because as you know an immigrant around on this side of the pond can't live off of a can of beans and dollar store food. So I waited by the phone, thinkin' that I'd get a call soon. Little did I know it would be an entire BLOODY MONTH BEFORE I GOT A PHONE CALL!!! And I don't know who's behind this lil' operation; Honestly I wish I could put a face to the wanker who decided to keep me inactive so I can beat'em to a bloody pulp. But I digress, and now I'm here, and now they want to butter me up nice for this Old North Championship. And like a bunch of desperate tossers everyone wants to try and be somebody. 

Butcher spits on the ground.

BUTCHER: Everyone wants to have their lil' name written down in a shite history book. Me?! I WANT WHAT'S OWE TO ME!!! And these lil' shites owe me a lot. I didn't come all the way from my home to be casted aside like trash. I'M A PRIZEFIGHTER!!! I'M YOUR BREADWINNER!!! I'M THE BEST THING YOU BLOODY GOT!!! And these bastards you got in this match, they don't have any clue what's comin' to'em. For a long, long, bloody month, they've kept me away from the ring while they've been gettin' fed. Every paycheck I've missed I'm going to take it from them. Because the lot of'em probably don't know what a true struggle is when you're waitin' around like a wanker hoping that they hadn't forgotten your contract. It's a true struggle when you watch a bunch of idiots you've never heard of state claim to a belt they don't give a bullocks about. It's a true struggle listening to you all speak, because most of you are speakin' truly from your arse. I see through all of you, and at 3rd Strike in Greensboro, North Carolina, I'm going to expose you all for the rubbish you are.

Butcher looks at his phone and begins to get angry again. He shakes his head and looks off to the side a bit. He waves his hand away and looks to be making another call.

BUTCHER: ...Cheers.

He walks off, phone to ear, clearly pissed off.