Five months ago I severed ties with the IWC. Five months ago I cut the federation that I spent six months of my life prepping for. Five months ago I said farewell to the collection of idiots, morons, hacks, and egomaniacal dipshits that decided that the best place to put a seven foot tall dragoness was in a freakshow division fighting against an idiot, a moron, and a retard.
And they teamed him with an autistic and a midget.
I'm better than that. I know I'm better than that. But because I didn't pick a side, that I didn't surgically graft my lips to the asses of either one of the emergent factions whose warfare dominated IWC I was ignored. I was an afterthought. I was given no opportunity to thrive amidst inferior fellows. There were teeming masses of non-wrestlers and the personal friends of Mr. Flies and the Dumbest Woman in Professional Wrestling needed lavish paydays, and brother dude jack, trickle down Hoganomics is what's best for business, Mean Gene!
And in those five long months I've shown the IWC what fools they were to waste me like they did. Remember my farewell pay per view match? You know, the one that was signed into being at virtually the last minute. The one that got made as an afterthought. The one where two people who had been with the IWC since its founding were given less consideration than some schmucks who had just signed with the company days before.
And speaking of schmucks, do you know just how wonderful and forward looking that little contest was? Of the four people that stayed with the fed in those five months only Leviticus has wrestled, he only did it for one match, and he sucked ass in it.
Yeah, the exact moment I left the fed, they stopped bringing in Fitzgerald. Amazing, isn't it? It's like he was brought in with the sole intention of being an embarrassment and being a gods damned albatross around my neck.
