The spared-no-expense RNN logo transitioned onto the screen from the right side, spinning on it's axis in glorious 3D as the camera faded into Randy Orton sitting at the official RNN show card table. Instead of the usual measured posture from the Gateway Champion, Randy's head was in his hands. He was clearly exasperated at something. Casually he reached for a mic that was resting on his table and brought it to his lips, never once looking up in the camera.

Randy Orton: My name is Randy Orton, and I am so over this.

A deep sigh escaped from him that picked up from the microphone.

Randy Orton: There are few things in life that are absolutes. Death, Taxes...

He shook his head.

Randy Orton: ...and matches with the Miz. Everyone has that one guy in their career. That one guy that's not as talented as you, not as strong as you, not as fast as you, not as smart as you, and certainly not as good looking as you. Yet, that one guy keeps coming back for more, even though they continue to embarrass themselves, like a gnat. To every person on the EBWF roster, that guy is the Miz.

Randy shrugged.

Randy Orton: I guess tonight we're doing it again. Because Wes Ikeda has the memory of an old cat, he makes me wrestle this unbelievable tool a 47th time. Since we're doing this all over again, I guess this gives me an opportunity to humiliate him again, and show him what happens when you shake a murder hornet's nest. That's what happens when you mess with Rated RKO. You get topical shit talking. Enjoy it, Mike. It's the last thing you're going to see on TV until you're watching it from a hospital bed.

Randy put the mic down and pretended to write on a blank sheet of paper as the screen flashed the EBWF logo and faded to black.