Edge was partially in shadow as the camera came to life, and he leaned forward in his chair. He chuckled, grinning slightly as he looked straight down the lens.
Edge: You know what the interesting thing about being at this stage of my career is, PAC?
He tilted his head.
Edge: It’d be nice to be King of the Ring.
He smirked.
Edge: But I don’t need it. Another opportunity at the EBWF World Championship would be nice, but I don’t need it.
His voice became more passionate.
Edge: At this point in my career PAC, I don’t need anything. I don’t have anything left to prove. I’ve left it all on the mat for years, won everything there is to win. I am one of the most legendary names in all of professional wrestling, so another accolade… I don’t need it. But that doesn’t mean I’ve ever stopped wanting it.
He laughed to himself.
Edge: You on the other hand barely get started. Stops and starts. Here then there, then nowhere all at once. Who knows what you want because you’ve proven to be remarkably bad at getting it. You know what the interesting thing about being at this stage of my career is, PAC? I may not need anything, but that also means I don’t have a damn thing to lose.
He narrowed his eyes.
Edge: And even an idiot like you knows that makes me a very, very dangerous, violent, and opportunistic man. So, I’ll see you out there, PAC - and even though I don’t need to, I’m going to send you back to whatever Indy wrestling hell hole you dug yourself out of. Just because I wanna.
He pushed the camera away, making it point at the concrete floor as the screen faded to black.
Because I Want To
Because I Want To
Writers aren't exactly people. They're a whole bunch of people. Trying to be one person.
The only living, breathing, Queen of Efeds in captivity
"You can't blame a writer for what the characters say." - Truman Capote