Reno, Nevada
Inside the Reno Events Center
The venue was coming together nicely. The ring was already set up, ahead of the weekend where a few exhibition shows were to take place to help promote the Climax Control show on Sunday. The crew was still making a few minor adjustments as Lachlan Kane wandered around, dressed in a dark hoodie and shorts, with running shoes on his feet. He looked like he was either on his way to a workout or just coming from one as he climbed up into the ring and to the top turnbuckle, where he sat for a few moments as he looked around the arena, before focusing his gaze to the camera that was now pointed at him.
“Gamer Inc. got lucky. That’s all there is to it. They can sit back and crow about it all they want, they can claim that they own the division now, but the fact of the matter is, Sierra Williams and I made that division. We brought the mixed tag division up from the bottom of the barrel and made it relevant. And now all these johnny-come-lately teams are popping up like daisies, trying to stake their claim, but where were they during Sierra and I’s record-breaking title run?” Lachlan looked at the watch on his wrist. “Yeah, exactly. No-bloody-where to be found. Because everyone knew that while Sierra and I were atop that mountain, we couldn’t be beat. All of a sudden, Gamer Inc. gets in their lucky shot, claims the belts, and then they all want their shot.” Lachlan scoffed in disgust. “Don’t go getting ahead of yourselves, there. Sierra and I are FAR from done with the mixed tag division. And don’t think for one damn second that we aren’t coming back for what’s ours, so if I were you Gamer Inc., I wouldn’t get too used to that weight around your waists. You’ll be back behind your little computer screens in due time.” He gave a wicked little smirk.
“Now, onto the real reason for this video...my upcoming match against this so-called ‘Crown Prince’ of SCW.” Lachlan stared deadpan into the camera for a moment, before letting out a loud peal of hysterical laughter. He gripped his stomach as he doubled over, nearly falling off the top turnbuckle. After a few moments, he sat back up, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry, I tried to say that with a straight face, I really did. You honestly think walking in here and getting a couple wins under your belt over some barrel-scrapers makes you worthy of that title? Oh, but wait! You got a number one contendership for the Roulette title out of all that, didn’t so? My apologies! That changes everything!” He gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Look, I know you said that you’d put your contendership on the line in our match. Now, I’m not sure if management saw that or if they’ll actually put that stipulation in, but on the off chance that they do, just do yourself a favour and lay down on the mat. Save yourself the embarrassment and pain of losing to me, and give Griffin Hawkins a worthy opponent. Not some snot-nosed little shitheel who’s been in the company for a damn cup of coffee and thinks he’s top shit. Come back and talk to me when you’ve broken a record or two. Maybe when I knock a few rounds out of you, you’ll get some sense beat into your brain and some of that ego will get pounded out of you. Maybe I should just do the SCW universe a favour and break your damn jaw, so they won’t have to hear you prattle on about how delusional - oops, I mean how ‘great’ you are.”
He climbed down from the turnbuckle and paced around the ring a few times. “I know I said that Sierra and I are far from done with the mixed tag division, but I’m putting everyone on notice right now that I’m coming for that World title. And I don’t care who I have to go through to get it. If I have to start at the bottom facing some uppity twat who needs a good arse thumping, more’s the better. I’ve got a lot of pent-up aggression that’s needing an outlet, and seeing as my brother is still cowering away in the shadows, you’ll have to be the sacrificial lamb, Jacky-boy.” He gave another uncharacteristically wicked smirk. “So, when it’s all said and done and you’re lying on your back staring up at the lights, I’ll be one rung up the ladder.”
He slid out of the ring and hit the floor, flipping up the hood of his jacket over his head and sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked off.
