Thirteen.

[Cory]

The camera faded up from the EBWF logo to Paul Heyman, who idly straightened the cuffs on his suit jacket. Brock Lesnar stood behind him in his MMA shorts.

Paul Heyman: Greetings, EBWF Universe. My name is Paul Heyman, and I am the advocate for the one who will go in at thirteen, and remain the only one standing. Brock. Lesnar.

Lesnar gave a smug wink into the camera, hopping up and down and amping himself up.

Paul Heyman: Thirteen. Roman numeral XIII. The floor that doesn't exist in most major corporate buildings. The age at which my son will be able to celebrate his Bar Mitzvah. The number which makes everyone wet themselves on a Friday, for some reason.

Lesnar smirked and wiggled his fingers, making the mocking "Oooh, scary" face.

Paul Heyman: Thirteen. It is a number in the Fibonacci sequence, a sequence of numbers that most of you cretons in the EBWF Universe are ostensibly clueless about. It is a series of numbers found in nature, and it is sequence by which one can predict the leaflets on a pineapple, or even figure out the ancestry of bees. It is part of the building blocks of this earth, and is as immutable as the man that stands next to me today. I have the honor, and the privilege to advocate for the once in a lifetime super athlete known as Baaarrrrrroooooccccckkkk.... LESNAR.

Heyman regained his composure, and ran his fingers over his slicked back hair.

Paul Heyman: Thirteen. The number at which my client will enter the EBWF Royal Rumble, and retake his rightful place at the top of the food chain. Never mind the actual process of putting people over the top rope. My client is not interested in something as simple as throwing people out. Brock Lesnar is a man who has conquered everything he has set his eyes on. He is going to destroy every single person that approaches him, and then dump them over the top rope like so much trash. Once that buzzer hits and my client steps into the ring, every person in that Royal Rumble match suddenly ceases to be a wrestler, and they suddenly become a victim.

Heyman suddenly smirks, reaching up to stroke his chin.

Paul Heyman: Thirteen. After thirteen more wrestlers come and go after my client, one man will make his way to the ring, and he excites me the most. Wes Ikeda is making his unfortunate entrance in the Royal Rumble at number 27. The man who was so comedically incompetent at his job running the EBWF, that he decided to do what made him famous in the first place. He came back to wrestling. In an unfortunate twist of fate however, he's inevitably going to go face to face with my client, Brock Lesnar. See, I had been hoping that the first time my client went face to face with the laughing stock of the EBWF known as Wes Ikeda, that it would be a one on one match where my client could slowly... methodically... take him apart. Drive the wind out of him with several knees to the midsection, followed by german suplex, after german suplex. As fate would have it however, my client will simply need to plant him in the middle of the ring with an F5, something he has already done mind you, and then dump his lifeless body over the ropes.

Paul adjusted his suit jacket, and smiled overconfidently.

Paul Heyman: Thirteen. Our Thirteenth Wrestlemania in the EBWF, and it will culminate in my client, BROCK LESNAR, going on to destroy the EBWF World Champion. Whoever he is. I guess it is a lucky number after all.

Heyman gestured to Lesnar, and the two exited the scene as it faded to an EBWF logo.