What in the blue f**k are you talking about, Shaman? When I see you on Insider, I swear I have to work harder to understand you than I have ever worked in any match I have been in. You talk like you have a d*ck in your f**king mouth.

You're going to hurt me? When? Its not like you havent tried before. Don't you remember last time you thought you were man enough to f**k with The Cell? Let me refresh your memory. We threw you down on a table, put your empty head in a vice, stabbed you in the nuts with an icepick, stretched your tongue out with a pair of pliers and almost burned the motherf**ker off with a blowtorch. You were about a c*nthair away from getting sodomized with my electric drill. You got lucky that time because Cruz stepped in to save you, to tell us to chill out. In case you haven't noticed, Cruz aint here to save your sorry ass this time. He doesn't run sh*t anymore. Devil's Own runs this motherf**ker now.

The simple fact of the matter is, that title always was mine. I didn't even have to compete for it. Someone else can have it when I say so... When I get tired of it. You dont even belong in the same building as me, let alone the same ring. You really think you can beat me? I GUARANTEE I come away on top this saturday, motherf**ker. I'll even go so far as to say if YOU win, I'll suck your d*ck. Its just not gonna f**kin happen. You are so many damn levels beneath me, I shouldnt even be giving you this much press. From now on, you wont even hear your name come from my mouth. You'll be nothing more than a punching bag. I hope you enjoyed your fifteen minutes, because they, like your title hopes are over!

Devils Own

Deal With It!