A Score to Settle: Jose Ramon vs Exile

[Alex Smiley]

This is the place where the burritos--I mean roleplays--go.

Hype: Best friends turned bitter rivals, Jose Ramon and Exile never had their chance to really settle the score. They say revenge is a dish best served cold, and what better place for it than the freezing tundra of Siberia?

RP Deadline: May 27, 2018 - 11:59PM Eastern

[Jose The Law Ramon]

INTRO: ON A BUSY DIRT HIGHWAY, OUTSIDE ANY MAJOR POPULATIONSL, DUSK

[Fade in from black as we see a number of cars driving on the 2-lane road, many older model vehicles or motorcycles with drunken, rowdy, or generally unruly individuals, many of whom appear to come with license plates identifying them from the country of Mexico. Among them is an older model beaten down 1990s Ford Taurus, color long since either buried under rust or the many damages that appear all over the car. From overhead we slowly approach the Taurus before a fade cut reveals inside the vehicle to be stuffed in the back and a slight mess up front as we see a number of boxes with the faded logo of the TFWF slapped along the side, slowly starting to peel off. Panning right to the driver's seat, we see a figure dressed in light attire made of spandex with his face obscured by shadows from hilly mountains on either side of the road. We see a car from the other side of the highway pass by with headlights shining, illuminating briefly the face of the driver as we see none other than JOSE RAMON at the wheel. There's a look of determination on his face as he heads along the highway, a sign passing by saying 'Now Leaving Los Angeles.' Faintly we can hear some music playing from earbuds that we see sticking out of RAMON's ears, though not at a distinct enough volume to determine what can be heard. Along the way wee see another highway marker that reads 'ROUGH N READY HOMBRES' - 30 miles as RAMON can be seen tightening his grip along the wheel for a few moments with his veins looking like they're popping out before the moment passes and we see him return to his determined face as his image fades into the shadows of the mountains again along with the scene fading to black before showing a title card.]

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

SC 1: OUTSIDE 'ROUGH N READY HOMBRES' BAR

[Outside the city limits of Los Angeles sits a dirty hole-in-the-wall known as the 'ROUGH N READY HOMBRES' bar. It's a location with not-too-discernable tastes, catering to anyone and everyone who shows up with cash and no questions. There's a lot of loud engines and hollering from outside, while the Taurus slowly makes it way to the back door of the bar. There's a sputtering and coughing from the engine before eventually it comes to a slow stop. We see RAMON slowly start to pull himself from the driver's seat, giving out the usual groans and pains that come from a lifetime of getting beaten up for a living, especially with his somewhat thin frame and smaller stature. Looking around for a few moments we see him reach towards the ground to lift up an old, broken metal handle to a standing position before reaching in to pull out a number of boxes from the backseat to the ground. There's a bit of grumbling that barely has the words 'need good help' discernable but the words fade quickly to the loud music and louder patrons coming from the back door opening as we see an older, overweight and balding man in stained shirt and jeans look over to RAMON with his packages.]

??: You the guest?

JR: Yup. You the owner?

??: And bartender. I got a spot for you by the ring area for your stuff as requested. You'll have an hour after you get done to sell your merchandise, after that you need to start packing up and head out because that's when I get the customers who have less love for the law and more love for their guns, drugs and booze.

JR: Even more so that this lot?

B: ESPECIALLY more than this lot.

[Ramon nods his head in a sage manner as he starts slowly dragging the cart, the dirt loudly being scrapped along with wheels that hardly seem to turn any more for the cart that looks to be roughly a decade older than the car RAMON came in.]

SC 2: INT, 'ROUGH N READY' BAR

[Sitting down at the bar's counter trying to looks as inconspicuous as possible (as far as a former wrestling superstar who's about to star in a movie anyway) we see EXILE looking around the bar area nervously. There's the BANG of metal on brick as the backdoor opens before we see RAMON pulling his metal cart, complete with squeaky wheels, floor scraping and all, stuffed to overflowing as he slowly starts dragging it to what appears to be a makeshift ring. There's a few younger guys going over to greet him even if only briefly to exchange what looks to be at best lukewarm or even just perfunctory greetings. EXILE looks over at RAMON, some age lines and  other sorts marks starting to make their way across his face. EXILE shows a small, vicious smile as he turns away to look towards a clock.]

EX: Well whatdaya know, karma finally took its toll.

[EXILE watches on from the bar with a smirk as RAMON goes about his business of preparing his stand for merchandising. After setting a number of t-shirts on top of the table that show his face with the word 'RAMON' written on one side with the other side shown on the other half of the table to just have the word 'SUCKS' written on the other side, we see a number of official looking people go over to the bartender to converse about something before they start calling over the other performers to the area by the bar station. Once the stand is complete RAMON starts to amble his way with the other wrestlers, staying in back of everyone. Everyone is handed a slip of paper as the bartender reaches inside what looks to be a small box of some kind to pull out slips of paper of similar size to the ones handed out to the wrestlers. A number of them look to be slightly green to the wrestling, though one who stands out above the others is a very large figure, standing nearly half a foot above all the other wrestlers and looking to be in incredibly fit shape. The bartender calls out a set of numbers in audibly as we see the larger man and RAMON look to each other, RAMON's face showing an obvious look of annoyance while the larger wrestler gets a hungry look in his eyes. A number of fans start to gather in the seats put on freestanding risers or - in some case - wooden tables. While shuffling to move to the seating area, a couple of people - including RAMON - grab some nearby brooms and start sweeping away the garbage and excess alcohol containers away, EXILE giving something of a sad smile at RAMON. Finally after around 10 minutes of this, a makeshift bell begins to ring as RAMON sets his broom down before doing some light stretches outside the ring. Inside the ring we see more completely the large man in his early 20s, standing almost a foot taller than the referee and with multiple muscles bulging around his neck, arms, chest and legs. EXILE looks over to RAMON, still looking somewhat annoyed while going about his business of doing a number of work out routines as he gives a small, private chuckle to himself.]

EX: Huh, who knew the two-drink minimum was for the show I always wanted to see.

[We see EXILE start to sip off the drink in front of him before giving a loud sputtering cough, looking down at the drink in front of him with equal parts confusion, terror and disgust on his face.]

SC 3: LATER

[Cut to a shot of RAMON as he grabs a towel from off the ring apron while a number of fans are starting to pile out of the area, many grumbling with some having a knowing smile on their faces. Over by ringside a man dressed in what appears to be some kind of business suit of cheaper material is busy collecting money from other patrons, many of whom are digging deep into their pockets. EXILE gives a small shake of his head as he waves over to the bartender who was previously making himself look busy by doing the stereotypical wiping a glass with a dirty rag. The bartender tries to make himself nonchalant as he heads to EXILE.]

B: Whadda ya need?

EX: I just need you to give the asshole in the spandex this message - "Exile wants to meet you."

B: Huh?

EX: You heard. That exact message.

[The bartender shakes his head in disbelief before making his way over to the other end of the bar. RAMON slowly starts grabbing some items as he prepares to set a metal cashbox over next to a number of cardboard boxes before he's stopped by the bartender. The bartender whispers to him as he points over to EXILE, who pointedly seems determined to look up at the clock above the bar location. We see RAMON start to give a sigh as he sets his things into a more private location while EXILE starts checking up through his phone on something, clearly trying hard not to look over at RAMON. Once EXILE finishes up with his phone, he looks up to the wall clock once again as RAMON comes up behind him, towel around his neck as he start to grab a chair from one of the nearby tables.]

JR: You wanted to see me?

[EXILE shows some startling before he takes a moment to really look over RAMON. His ring attire is certainly not in the best of shapes, with a few tears here and there being sewn up. Along his exposed arms there are a number of bruises starting to purple up from his most recent encounter with the large man as well as some faintly visible scars that have some makeup that are running off from them. RAMON pulls out the seat and puts it at the bar next to EXILE, giving him a mirthless laugh. EXILE looks at RAMON inquisitively.]

EX: What's so funny?

JR: It's just the situation. I seem to remember being on the other side of this a few years ago, except then when I reached out to end it all you seemed so eager. Now looking at you, you'd think you swallowed something foul.

EX: I did, it's called... actually I don't know what it's called, the bartender handed it to me.

JR: And you DRANK it!?

EX: It was a two drink minimum!

[RAMON and EXILE look to each other for a few moments before they both share a laugh. After the moment passes, EXILE takes a moment to look over to RAMON again, this time with more of a concerned look.]

EX: Look, you should know that this wasn't exactly my idea. My publicist decided I should do this thing with you so that it would help with promoting my movie.

JR: Publicist? Movie? Sure have come a long way from the guy who wanted to put his mother's makeup on his face and act like a crazy person.

[EXILE shows some confusion.]

EX: I'm sorry, what are you talking about?

JR: Wow, guess you really were a delusional bastard. That or maybe you were on "drugs," like your unauthorized bio said.

EX: My what?

JR: Oh right, forgot you were crap at keeping track of things outside your narrow little vision of you.

EX: Hey kettle -

JR: No, no, none of that now. For the first time in your life this is about you and the promotion of this damn movie you're in, yet when it comes to bringing up the history around the two of us, I love how it never mentions the fact that you LOST the damn lawsuit, you lost the damn kid, you lost my sister, and - oh yeah - you lost to me so many damn times.

[EXILE narrows his eyes at RAMON, his posture starting to become more aggressive.]

EX: You know, for a moment I thought I might feel some pity for you. Then of course you had to open your big goddamned mouth and remind me all over again why it is I hated you.

JR: Oh yes, let's talk about hate. You know, like the hate I get from a number of fans who for years saw through your BS and whinging about every single little thing not going away and cheering for the guy who was trying to get you to man up and start making a difference for himself by fighting through the troubles. Turns our people hear you're a jerk face asshole so often get repeated in every form of news media and they start to believe it.

EX: But you are.

JR: I know that and you know that but they don't. Or didn't until someone's bio came out in the wake of the movie he was taking part in. I love how they conveniently left out the part where you kidnapped your not-son and tried to decorate yourself as that maniacal terrorist Dorian Wong. You remember him, right? Blew up the damn Wembley Stadium to finish off Death or Glory the same year you and I were supposed to have ended everything but didn't.

EX: That was real? I thought that was just a fever dream brought on by my sheer hatred of you! I remembering thinking that it was from the Spanish Fly and I was gonna give it up!

[RAMON gives a small shake of his head as he sighs while settling down at the bar, toweling himself off for a bit before turning back to look at EXILE.]

JR: Somethings I see never change.

EX: Like your look. Sure a bit more homey than I remember seeing but other than maybe a few things I wish I had been there to see on your body, like whoever you got those scars from, you still look like the same guy who I wanted to punch off a cage into a table full of thumbtacks and keep punching the tacks into you. How DO you still look like one of the rejects from American Idol?

JR: Well it ain't cheap. I mean, you know how much it... look who I'm talking to, of course you do. What do you think a number of this merchandise I sell off pays for?

[There is a small lull as EXILE looks away from RAMON, nervousness showing on his face. He opens his mouth as they about to say something, then shuts it and looks away. RAMON raises an eyebrow at him, so eventually EXILE works up his courage as he looks around RAMON instead of at him, awkwardness all over his body language.]

EX: So hey, this may sound a little weird and all, but have you heard from your sister?

[RAMON raises both eyebrows at EXILE, his expression one of bemusement bordering on pure schadenfreude with the smirk on his face.]

JR: Really? You're going to try going down that road again?

EX: What? I mean I just -

JR: Save it. She's not only out of college, she's already married. With a sprog on the way.

[EXILE looks at RAMON like he just received a sucker punch, slumping not only into his stool at the bar but onto the bar counter itself.]

EX: Wow.

JR: You didn't think she was gonna keep pining over you, did you?

EX: Not... exactly...

[RAMON gives a loud belly laugh, actually going over the top of the noise from the other patrons in the bar while EXILE simply glares at him. After a few moments of laughter, RAMON looks over at EXILE, confusion on his face before comprehension sets in.]

JR: Oh right, you forgot about the kid thing. So you must not have remembered the look on her face when you broke her heart keeping that kid locked close to you like a damn hostage.

[EXILE'S head drops, landing with a thud onto the bar counter as RAMON looks away with a smirk on his face, showing satisfaction at the hopeless expression by EXILE.]

JR: You really crushed her heart there, but thankfully she was young. She got over it and found someone else. Not exactly the kind of guy I would like her with, but he makes a decent amount of money, he isn't some dumb jock like you, and - more importantly - he makes her happy.

[After letting out a sigh, it's now RAMON'S turn to look at EXILE with an expression of confusion as he turns to face him.]

JR: Ok, so how does this work? I mean, I remember the media training we got from when TFWF was still helping out new guys for wrestling and whatnot but for movies -

EX: We get in the ring and fight. That's it.

JR: ...what?

[EXILE slowly lifts his head from the counter to look at RAMON with a deadened expression on his face, showing as little emotion as possible.]

EX: My publicist got a call from the Experts saying they wanted me there and -

[RAMON puts a hand up to EXILE'S face, stopping him mid-sentence. RAMON starts to get up from the bar as he starts aggressively pacing around the area, his face forming a deep scowl with his eyes scrunching to nearly meet at the center of his face.]

JR: The Experts called you. The fucking EXPERTS? Seriously?! They call some random nobody - albeit high profile Hollywood actor apparently - like you, a former loser who nearly cost them their promotion to the CWC instead of, oh I don't know, the guy who literally SAVED their asses?

[EXILE gives a nod as RAMON slams down a fist on the bar counter, rattling a few glasses as he gives a short huff, looking away from EXILE for a few moments before returning to look with a somewhat hopeful expression on his face.]

JR: Do we at least get the top billing we deserve for a feud that's over a decade old?

EX: They didn't tell me, but I imagine it's gonna be higher up on the card just off the estimated box office returns for my movie alone.

JR: Alright, well then maybe it won't be so bad. Would be nice to have a better payday.

EX: Well I mean you'll get the exposure you always wanted, but we both know I'm taking home that payday.

[Here RAMON gives a short laugh before looking at EXILE, who has a very serious expression on his face. RAMON raises an eyebrow at him as he shows incredulity.]

JR: Ex-CUSE me?! In what world do you imagine that happening? I'm sorry, but 6 years ago when I last saw you, you were in terrible shape for doing any sort of physical activity and mentally basically gone. Now you may look better physically, but when's the last time you threw a non-scripted punch that had to connect? When's the last time you exerted any form of physical force? Hell, when's the last time you had to COMPETE? Meanwhile what do you think I've been doing since the days of TFWF closing? Like every REAL star, I've busted my ass all over the place putting in work and honing my skills and physical tools like you wouldn't believe. Sure I'm not as quick as I used to be and sure I take a little bit longer getting up or perform with a little bit more deliberate pace than I used to, but even at this slightly more slowed stage I can still wrestle MILES around you before you get to even really physically hurt me.

[EXILE turns to face RAMON, his posture straightening up as he gives his own cocky expression right back at RAMON.]

EX: Hey I beat your ass in that ring.

JR: Like once, maybe twice. Ten years ago. And so did Randall Dylan. And Hannah Rickman. And Georgie Nickels. Ask anyone how many times they did that again? At least I didn't get beat down by freaking Jonnah Street. I - y'know what? I don't have enough time for this. I have my own stuff to do and I'm on a limited enough clock as it is.

[RAMON goes to pull some money out of his wallet, a small Immigration card falling out of it as he gives a light swear to pick it up. EXILE watches the moment with something almost akin to sorrow before screwing his face back into one of annoyance.]

EX: Damnit, how do you keep finding ways to make me hate you more?

JR: What, do I cause too many accidents now?

EX: No, you just... well I'm still not siding with the orange idiot, but I kinda want to have some kind of barricade. At least around you.

JR: Might want to hold back on statements like that, Mr. Movie Star. Paparazzi are everywhere and you don't want it leaking you're starting to agree with the President, especially not in Hollywood.

[RAMON prepares to leave back to his work table filled with all the memorabilia before eventually there's a younger looking figure who enters the bar, making a beeline towards RAMON as RAMON gives him a short nod and waves him over. In one hand the young man carries a set of car keys, the other has some laundry hanging in a dry cleaning bag. RAMON takes the keys and the laundry bag as he pulls out a set of car keys of his own and hands the keys along with the immigration card to the young man.]

JR: Ah Plug, you're finally here! You better get that car checked out because I had to pull out my own personal music since you haven't gotten yourself an up to date stereo yet. Get to work.

[RAMON nods as the young man rushes over to the table area for him as EXILE looks at RAMON with confusion on his face.]

EX: Wait, what?

JR: Oh, you remember Plug, right? He was the big burly dude who betrayed me to Georgie Nickles, who's also still dragging her ass out of the darkness and muck of who the fuck knows what. Well I fired him but the position remained open for a very long time after. Well a few years after TFWF fell I found this fella, who really wanted to get into professional wrestling. Naturally he wanted to go to the best and...

3 YEARS AGO, OUTSKIRTS OF THE US BORDER IN MEXICO

SC 4: EXT, OLDER LOOKING MOTEL WITH A CLOUDY SKY BACKDROP.


[We dissolve into a shot outside a discount motel with a lot of Spanish text around its location as we see RAMON outside the entrance to a small convention center of some sort as he starts to gather a few items together. After collecting his last few items, RAMON walks over to the driver side of what looks to be a current generation Smart Car, the back and side seats around him stuffed to the brim with all sorts of merchandise as well as a very worn looking travel bag of some kind. RAMON prepares to enter in when a younger man of around his early 20s runs up to him, a piece of paper and pen in his hand. RAMON gives the man a once over as he gives a sigh.]

JR: Look, if you need an autograph -

P: No, it's not that. You're Jose Ramon, right?

JR: Yeah, who's calling? If it's a warrant or subpoena -

P: Nothing so official. My name's Anthony, and I'm trying to get into wrestling.

[RAMON looks the guy over before giving a short sigh as he prepares to go into a long-rehearsed speech before looking the young man over again. After a few moments RAMON gives a long drawn, exaggerated sigh.]

JR: Good for you.

A: They say you're still one of the top wrestlers on the circuit.

JR: Well I have held my own against the very best in the business and been on top of the biggest professional wrestling promotion in history.

A: Could you get me the number to Jack Benevolence?

[RAMON'S face shows complete shock, slackening as it was apparently the last thing he expected to hear.]

JR: What?

A: Well I mean True Expert as well as -

JR: Hang on, you want to talk to a guy who lost his True Expert title as opposed to the guy who they had to retire his title?

[ANTHONY nods his head in earnest as RAMON slaps a palm to his forehead, dragging it over his face before looking at the man. Although there's not a lot physicall that appears to stand out, one thing that grabs RAMON'S attention is that he has some impressive looking knockoffs of higher end more popular clothing. RAMON raises an eyebrow for a bit before putting his arm around the young man.]

JR: Tell you what - you hang around with me and you're bound to eventually run into ol' Jacky boy. Sadly I don't have much contact information from him because everyone scattered when TFWF fell. But first chance we meet, I'll introduce the two of you.

[As ANTHONY starts looking excited at the prospect of actually meeting JACK, RAMON looks down on his phone to do a search of JACK'S scheduled dates as the scene fades back to the present.]

PRESENT

SC 5: INT, 'ROUGH N ROWDY BAR COUNTER WITH RAMON AND EXILE


[Fade back to a shot of RAMON looking rather pleased with himself while EXILE holds his head in his hands.]

JR: ...and that's how I found myself an assistant. True story.

EX: So you found yet ANOTHER way to screw someone else over.

JR: Hey I'm giving him the 'in' he needs to the business AND providing him valuable experience in collecting money for merchandising. You sure could have used some of that info when you ended up on the dole yourself.

EX: All this time, you show yourself off as having all these problems with life, not even being a US citizen -

JR: Woah, where'd you get that from?

EX: The green card.

[EXILE points to ANTHONY, as RAMON shows understanding on his face.]

JR: Oh the card? It's his. I just needed his identification to use his car because it's the one that's big enough to hold all my merchandise.

[EXILE gives a sigh as he shakes hid head.]

EX: You'll never change.

JR: Why should I? True I'm not in a spot that I should be as the elite of professional wrestling but I'm still a really good wrestler, still get the people coming out even if it's only to see me get my ass kicked and then walk away disappointed. More importantly though, I'm doing what I've always done in professional wrestling.

EX: Make an ass of yourself.

JR: Cute. No, I go out there each and every night and prove to everyone that I'm the best. And you know what? When I was younger I wanted to show everyone. I've made my point though all across the globe, and now the only one that I really need to impress anymore is me. And you know how often I do that to myself, considering its me we're talking about?

[RAMON gives an arrogant smile while glancing side-long towards the camera.]

JR: But hey, who am I to judge what my skills are? I leave that to -

EX: Wait, are you about to break the fourth wall?

JR: I... maybe.

EX: Don't. I only just recently paid off for that last fourth wall break 10 years ago.

JR: I know, I miss those checks.

[EXILE gives an angry sigh while pounding on the bar table as the scene fades to black.]

RUSSIA, SATURDAY MAY 26, 2018

SC 6: INT MOTEL ROOM, EARLY EVENING.


[Fade into the image of a computer desktop with the webpage YouTube(c) loaded up as we see a reminder for a livestream as the cursor moves over to open the link to reveal none other than JOSE RAMON, dressed in much more refreshed and repaired ring attire compared to earlier sitting down in front of a small mounted camera, pointing towards what appears to be a sparse room with some advertisments or rules that are written in the Russian characters. RAMON looks to the camera for a moment as he takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly.]

JR: It's been years since I've had to do one of these, but luckily I've got a lot on my mind that I've wanted to share for years. You know, for years when it came to dealing with Exile, I told everyone the feud was done. And from my point of view it was. I mean I definitively beat him every time I needed to prove to him that he wasn't in my league. Sure he got some early success and victories, but over time I outclassed him and proved that when push come to shove I was the harder worker, I was the more talented wrestler and I was the one who could do whatever needed to be done to close the deal. Sure he had passion and he had some drive, but he was just a big honking Hummer - he'd look cool and big and run out of gas way too fast to be any good as a car. When push came to shove, he could spurt out a little ways then always just come up short. In the end I crossed the finish line.

Well here we are again. This time we do battle in front of the Experts, the very group of people who's asses I've had to save time and time again since the introduction of the TFWF to their fold. You're welcome, by the way. And oh, let's talk about that - of all the people who you had to contact in order to get me here, you get a hold of EXILE first? Like, not your savior, not your consistent star, not the guy who was constantly busting his ass out in the ring each and every night. No, you go after the Hollywood guy. Let me tell you, unless that Hollywood guy is an A-lister with incredible talent in the ring as well as out of it that usually spells a lot of trouble, especially with the folks who feel like you could put anyone else in that spot and they would deserve it more. But especially Exile. He turned his back to go into the mainstream on us. He gave up yet again on his dream. Well you wanted to reel him in - now I'm going to gut his bones clean.

[RAMON takes a moment to pause as he pulls up a faded pamphlet showing off in Russian some sort of advertisement for the Experts event complete with a picture of the infamous Siberian Prison facility.]

JR: To makes things more interesting is the fact that the site of all this 'finally' coming to a head is going to be at the very facility that Exile should have stayed at the last time he poked his head out of the ground. I say 'finally' because let's face it - unless he pulls off the miracle and finally manages to get my shoulders onto the mat, we're looking at him training and training every single day for 5 more years before calling me out to the ring again. But the Siberian Prison facility was certainly not an accommodating place the last time I came here with the TFWF. In fact, even though we were guests they insisted on treating us like prisoners! I mean, it was basically a prison to all of us! Putting us with thieves, smugglers, murderers, terrorists... I would have even accepted simply putting us in the conjugal visit homes since no one in their right minds would come out here to visit these people.

But getting back on track here, let's talk about what we've been up to, shall we? Bringing back names from the past like Sandy Makel, Desert Sex, Georgie Nickles, Jack Benevolence... its reading like a TFWF reunion with some stars from other locations added in to give that Experts authenticity. But then TFWF always did attract the biggest, most talented stars in wrestling history. I mean, let's face the facts - at its height during its essentially 13 year history, TFWF had just about every single True Expert come into the fold, even if for only brief stints on some or for a full run like others. But through it all lasted me - the best of the best. With my former teammate Alexa we were the only unbeaten True Expert tag team champions. I climbed the ladder many times myself to try and reach up to True Expert level, but sadly my points were never enough for the broken system. And now these days I find myself not where I should be at the top but near the middle of the fold or sometimes opening up the show for everyone else. Well that's just fine.

[RAMON drops the advertisement as he cocks his head to the side while looking towards the camera.]

JR: See the fact of the matter is that I've long given up on the idea of showing everyone I'm the best in the world. I already did it, many times over. In the TFWF, in the Experts, in just about every single promotion I've been a part of, I've risen to become the elite performer. Well now to hell with all you. To hell with the idea of needing equality. To hell with the idea of trying to becoming a champion. I'm doing this for my own damn self to prove that while I may be a bit diminished from what I used to be, I'm still far and away better than everyone else that does what we do. Especially over that glorified crybaby Exile who had a hissy fit every time life didn't go his way. Boo hoo, I can't get the girl I want. Waah, the baby isn't mine. Ow, I can't beat this really tough, really talented, much superior superstar. Well let me tell you something Exile - life isn't fair, is it? You get your ass sued, you have a nervous breakdown, you try to shape things up to have the perfect comeback story - then you get your jaw kicked into your brain and find yourself looking at the pretty lights while someone counts '1, 2, 3.' That's exactly what's waiting for you in Siberian.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold - well even with a feud that's lasted for 10 years on your end and not nearly as long from my end, sadly for you even in the coldest place on the planet it's summer time and your ass is going to be sweating and bruised from pillar to post inside and outside that ring, because you're dealing with someone who's had 5 years since the close of TFWF to just barely scrap by with his skills and earn a living that provides enough to keep him going. You're dealing with someone who's been honing his craft for years and years since already being at a high level to becoming of the most dangerous foes in the ring you could ever meet. You're in the position for the first time of dealing with a man who has nothing to lose and everything to gain. Meanwhile you always have the comfortable knowledge that you're going back to making movies and becoming a big time star after this so you can afford a loss. You don't have to work as hard because you don't need it as bad. But you better. You better work your ass off as hard as you can, because if you want to prove to yourself and to everyone else out there watching that you've finally found the heart to beat me, you better be willing to take away the thing I need the most. Not validation, not acclaim, not praise - money. Pure and simple cash is my goal, and if you want to beat me you better put yourself into a place where you can hang with me once again, because otherwise you're going to be hung out to dry. After all, you're not just dealing with someone who's simply good or even great in the ring. You're dealing with the best. You're dealing with your Lex Luthor. You're dealing with Thanos, and there's one infinity stone left between me and you. I'm Jose Ramon, the best of the best, and you're not. Try not to be too jealous.

[RAMON gives a wink and lets out a loud sigh before reaching towards the camera as the signal on the stream ends before the scene fades to black.]

END

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