*clank*

*clank*

*clank*

Paul Heyman sat facing forward as the camera faded in on a scene in a gym. Heyman was on a bench, wearing a black track jacket with white piping, and a matching pair of track pants. A towel hung around his neck as he bent forward to tie his shoes. Heyman was red in the face, out of breath, and beady with sweat. He looked uncomfortably exhausted. Behind him was Brock Lesnar, who was laying on his back, hands tightly gripping a barbell that was full of large, circular weights on either side. He spoke, gasping for air between each word.

Paul Heyman: I don't... know... how you people do it. This... is... why I'm... an advocate. How long was I on the treadmill?!

Brock Lesnar: Eight minutes.

Paul Heyman: Well... I did raise the incline setting a couple notches. That makes all the difference, you know. If I... If I had had it on the usual setting, I would have done... a lot better. Probably 40-45 minutes which is my average.

Brock Lesnar: Uh-huh.

Lesnar exhaled as he pushed five hundred twenty five pounds of weight on the barbell up to a full extension, then brought it back down close to his chest with the assistance of a spotter who stood behind him. Heyman glanced up, seemingly noticing the camera for the first time.

Paul Heyman: Excellence. Something we all strive to achieve in our lives. Many people go about their day worrying about the most meaningless things. The minutiae of daily life. "Gee, I hope I can get a good parking spot at work today." "I hope Starbucks has my pumpkin spice latte in stock this week." "My girlfriend changed her status on Facebook!" Trivial problems for trivial people with a trivial existence.

Heyman gestured behind him at the monstrous man known as Brock Lesnar. Lesnar was completely focused on his workout and paid no attention to Heyman's words.

Paul Heyman: My name is Paul... Heyman. And behind me is the Beast, Brock Lesnar. We.. are not like those trivial people. While the majority of the worlds population go about their lives, oblivious to the fact that their lives are utterly meaningless, we work to take advantage of every single day we have on this planet to be better than the last day. My client and I strive to go beyond excellence everyday, although ostensibly we go about that goal in two very different ways. Me? I strive for excellence in the world of business, entrepreneurship, and advocacy. My realm is in the world of power and influence, and how to wield it. My client strives for excellence in athletics and combat. Every single minute of every day comes with the promise that Brock Lesnar is better, stronger, faster, and smarter than the day before. Which is why...

The camera zoomed out and revealed more of the gym that they were a part of.

Paul Heyman: ...we're here at this dirty, God forsaken pit called Topeka, Kansas. This is the most modern gym in the entire city, and I still get the impression that most of this equipment is older than I am. I won't even talk about the bathrooms. Despite that, here we are. Because Brock Lesnar is a fighter, and he is the epitome of a once-in-a-lifetime athlete. That's not just some catchphrase, either. Brock Lesnar is a special attraction that only comes along once in a very long time. While the people of Topeka, Kansas mill about their daily, meaningless lives, clocking in at Wal-Mart or Dillons, Brock Lesnar is pushing himself even further than he ever has. His goal? King of the Ring. This year, the world will see the Beast Incarnate become the King. And why shouldn't he? Brock Lesnar accomplishes everything he sets out to accomplish, and the King of the Ring is the next goal. He's already partly there, having dispatched of Trent Baretta in short order. Which brings me to the next opponent. Chris Jericho.

A smirk formed across Heyman's lips, arrogant as ever.

Paul Heyman: You know, its a hilarious irony about the King of the Ring. People say that the names are drawn out of the same hat, every year. We are assured year after year that these tournaments are entirely random. If that's the case, then it makes a very strong argument for predestination, or divine decree. How else could we explain the fact that Chris Jericho, former figurehead of EBWF and Wes Ikeda's ole stomping buddy, gets paired up with the most dominant athlete this sport or any other has ever seen? This is why I'm here, futilely attempting to increase my cargo. Brock Lesnar can not be held responsible for what he's going to do to Chris Jericho in the ring. Clearly, I cannot be held responsible for what happens, either. At Chris Jericho's age, the likelihood that the unstoppable assault of my client will to irreparable damage to Jericho's ego, his spirit, but most importantly, his body. I have to be there quickly, ready to pull my client off the broken, devastated remains of the "Ayatollah" after BAAAWWWWROOOOOCCCCKKKK... LESNAR... has ripped him to shreds. And who do you think coordinated this chance encounter, hmm?

Paul tapped his chin sarcastically, pretending to contemplate the question long and hard.

Paul Heyman: Allow me to break it down for you. Wes Ikeda might be a smarmy, out of touch, megalomaniacal dictator, but a stupid one he is not.

Heyman leaned in, cupping his mouth to make his voice much quieter, though still intentionally loud enough for the camera to hear.

Paul Heyman: Though his vocabulary rarely belies his upbringing on 8-Mile.

Heyman waved his hand in the air, dismissing the thought.

Paul Heyman: Anyway. He's not a fool. He knows it wasn't a huge stretch of the imagination to think that Chris Jericho, multiple time World Champion, former King of the Ring and Royal Rumble winner, could easily deal with an absolute cretin like Adam Rose. On top of that, it wasn't exactly rocket science to look at Trent Baretta, a man whose video game character on EBWF'15 did more moves than the real one, and know that he didn't stand a chance against my client, who eats, sleeps, and then spends the rest of his day training to inflict pain on his opponents. Unimaginable, incalculable amounts of pain. So, what are you left with? If you follow those trains to their eventual destination, you know that Chris Jericho versus Brock Lesnar is essentially inevitable. Why would a man like Wes Ikeda do that, unless he was fully aware of what he was doing, and wanted to take Chris Jericho out for good? The answer is simple, as you might know if you read my last promo. Chris, allow me to apologize on behalf of the entire EBWF Universe when I say this - nothing personal. We did not expect that Wes Ikeda would intentionally position you in a place on the King of the Ring tournament where you were forced to get into the ring with the one man who is truly, unequivocally, unstoppable.

Brock Lesnar: Also, I hate douchebags with wallet chains.

Paul glanced over at Lesnar, who rarely piped into his own promos. Heyman shrugged and continued.

Paul Heyman: Well, there you go. Chris, I want you to understand how truly sorry I am about all of this. If it were up to me, you would have been placed on the other side of the bracket, and given the opportunity to go much farther before Brock Lesnar eliminated you. I see the anger you have towards Wes Ikeda and I 100 percent empathize. I know exactly how it feels to realize that Wes Ikeda is a walking train wreck, that is driving this company single-handedly into the ground. John Cena finally came to that realization, ON HIS OWN, only just recently. The tide is starting to turn away from Wes Ikeda, and people are losing their confidence in him as a person. When I brought Brock Lesnar into the EBWF, it was for a singular, solitary purpose. My goal was to give Brock Lesnar an outlet, a place where he could focus his energies, and also to prove to the world that pound for pound, using any metric you can think of, that Brock Lesnar is the best fighter in the world. He is the living embodiment of what it means to be a professional wrestler. That was my only goal. But your friend, Wes Ikeda, decided to stick his nose in our business, and now we are cleaning up his mess at every turn. So, believe me, I get why you don't like him anymore. The tragic and unfortunate truth, however, is that despite all of his failings, and all of his MANY character flaws, the man managed to convince someone that they wanted you out of the King of the Ring tournament by Round 2, and they would do so by using my client.

Paul clasped his hands together, interlocking his fingers. His faze was distant as he considered what he would say next.

Paul Heyman: Jericho, your name is synonymous with EBWF. You are a true legend in every sense of the term. The rise of this company to prominence can easily be traced back to your successes. You've held the World Championship multiple times. The Intercontinental Championship multiple times. The Tag Team Championship multiple times. Other companies like to use this quaint little locution a little too liberally, but you truly are the face of this company. If one day, the sun sets and the book closes on EBWF, they should tap you to voice the documentary on its life. If not, it would be an utter travesty. That's how highly I think of you, Chris. I want you to know that before this Friday. You should know that there is no shame in walking away from a match with Brock Lesnar. Your career will unquestionably withstand the test of time. I happen to believe with every fiber of my being. The way we talk about legends like Stan Hansen, Larry Zbyszko, Killer Kowalski, and Bob Backlund, we will one day talk about Chris Jericho with that same sense of reverence.

Paul put his index finger up, wagging it back and forth.

Paul Heyman: One day. That day is not Friday. On Friday, you will step into the ring with my client, the Conqueror, the Beast... Incarnate. On Friday, you will be subjected to pain, and unimaginable hardship. It will be suplex... after suplex... after suplex... after suplex. You will be beaten down, verbally and physically, and be utterly dissected in a way that you have never been before in the squared circle. Every moment that you feel like you've finally gotten a split second to take a rich, needed breath of oxygen, it will be driven out of you until your will to fight completely dissipates, and you are left with nothing. Brock Lesnar will extinguish you. THAT... is what you can look forward to when you arrive in... Topeka, Kansas.

The disgusted look on Heyman's face when he uttered the name of the city was plain as day. He composed himself and continued.

Paul Heyman: The physical dismantling of Chris Jericho. That is what people will be trending on Twitter, or discussing in their Facebook groups, or talking about on their podcasts. But I want you to know something, Chris. When you are assisted out of the ring on Friday, and it seems that for the rest of the week, all the people in the world are talking about is the way you were manhandled and dominated in your failed bid to become King of the Ring, I want you to remember this phrase. Sic transit gloria mundi. It's a Latin term that means "Thus passes the glory of the world." It's a humble reminder that our greatness is fleeting. While the legend of Chris Jericho will undoubtedly take its place in the halls of the wrestling immortals, your career, sadly, cannot. Your long, decorated career in the EBWF will one day end. On Friday, my client...Bawwwwwwrrooooooocccckkk... LESNAR... will move you a few more steps toward that eventuality. But Chris... I want you to believe me when I say this...

Heyman gave a toothy, malicious grin, the humility suddenly wiped from his features.

Paul Heyman: It's nothing personal.

The scene flashed an EBWF.net Exclusive logo at the bottom of the screen as the camera faded to black.