Devilkiller SuperBrawl RP: Rightful Claims

July 10th, 2020.
 
10:54PM.
 
Devilkiller’s sitting up in the hospital bed, his gear laying on the table near to the window with what looks to be rips in the fabric. His dark green eyes just staring blankly out at the rain hitting the glass in on his luxurious view of Brighton, England, his head aching from the cell, his body from the fall, his soul from it all.
 
The doctor, a ‘chap’ if you will, no older than 30 with arms the length of jump rope and neatly shaved face comes in holding a clip board with a smile drenched on his face from earlobe to earlobe.
 
Well, I have good news for you, but a bit of troubling news too. See, Mr. Pierce, the good news is we have successfully discovered what had been causing your spells the last year or so! So the mystery, my dearest Watson, is solved.
 
Ah, and I’m guessing that’s also the troubling news?
 
Well, yes, it’s something you need to be aware of. You were at the mercy of epileptic episodes. The details described in your medical records point greatly toward what I’m diagnosing as absent seizures, brought about by your lack of sleep this last year as well as hitting your head quite often as it seems.
 
Great, so I might seize at any given moment?
 
Well, no. I think that with medicine, and with a bit of rest along with continuous CAT scans, I believe we can nip this in the bud quite easily. Now, as for your fall, well bloody hell, where to start? You have a bruised liver, you have external bruising around your buttocks and lower back, you have muscle spasms from your tension trying to preserve your body, and as a little bit of icing on the cake, your L4 disc is herniated, and it’s going to require surgery. I’ve taken upon myself to schedule a visit with your American surgeon on July 20th, and I’m sure he will schedule the surgery for that day or the day after.
 
Great, that makes me excited. I’m so glad I packed the bag and left the US for what was supposed to be a whole tour but ended up getting cut short! So what’s the plan? How long will I be out?
 
Well, I’m not the one doing your surgery. In my experience, these kind of injuries aren’t too bad. I’d assume it’s gonna be a minimum of 8 weeks, but I’ve seen some serious ones go up to 5 months without resuming normalcy, and heard of others up to 8 months. It depends on your surgeon, any complications, and the physical therapy. For you, as long as you rehab well, maximum of 12 weeks. Your bruising should subside, I suggest you don’t engage in any strenuous activity until your surgeon signs off on it. Looking back at your history, I doubt that’s what you’d want to do but I’m telling you, it’s what you need to do.
 
Devilkiller sits in silence and nods, his mind now drifting away from the hospital room and into the recesses of his brain. He’s so upset he’s had these seizures and just wasn’t getting anywhere with the doctors. He’s pissed his back is so messed up. He hears the doctor seemingly mumbling through the wall toward him, but he can’t acknowledge him. He wonders, does this mean he is done for? Does this mean his back will never be the same? What about wrestling? He should’ve went with his original idea with Kaitlyn and bought some rental properties. He’s scared, he’s nervous, and he gets snapped back to the world.
 
Mr. Deville, any questions?
 
Yes Doc, can you have the office send the bill to WFWF Headquarters?

November 27th, 2020
 
The stench of sweat and testosterone fill Devilkiller’s nostrils as he breathes in on his last deadlift. Of course it’s not a 250 pound person he’s lifting from the ground to do another move to, but 175 pounds from where he was a few months ago is astounding. His personal physical therapist explains a few things, how he thinks his services are no longer needed, Devilkiller can increase the weight every other session by 20 pounds, until he gets back to comfortable or where he was at, and that could help prevent injury later. Explains that stretching is still vital, but otherwise gives a clear bill of health. The once white walls of the gym fade to the back of Devilkillers mind as he shakes hands with the physical therapist and takes the drive home.
 
After arriving back in his humble abode, the modernistic paint scheme of grays, blacks, and whites is much more pleasing compared to the gym, yet the smell of sweat is still in the air. He hangs his keys on the key rack beside the door and looks toward the couch, where Carter is sitting and drawing something on a piece of paper, hair drenched as the page undoubtedly has water marks all over it. Devilkiller can’t help but smile toward his son, and admire his determination and thought as he watches Carter’s tongue stick out the side of his lips as he vigorously starts coloring in something with his pencil.
 
Devilkiller decides to let him be and goes to the kitchen and grabs a water from the pantry. He looks around and sees no Kaitlyn in the house, so he slips into the 20x24 room strictly dedicated to being a gym. He eyes up the dumbbells lining the wall, and looks toward the butterfly machine, but keeps looking. He walks slowly, studying each machine, the treadmill, the Jacob’s Ladder machine, the lat press, before getting to the rack, used for squats or deadlifts or just about anything else besides bench pressing. The machine perfectly situated in the corner in between the lat press and the leg press, Devilkiller takes a deep breath, letting a sigh exit as he drinks a bit of water, and pours half the bottle over his head, making his hair as stringy and wet as Carter’s.
 
Devilkiller eyes the weights hanging up on the sides of the machine. He grabs the 45 pound weight and puts it on both sides, and takes a step back and looking at it. His mind drifts back in time to a time where he was able to lift a lot more than this, where he would use Kaitlyn as a weight, when they were young and full of life and energy. He goes back to the weights and adds another 45 pound weight to each side again before stepping back to stare at it. The memories come in as waves, wrestling in the backyard, the crazy spots he would do. Jumping off a home made wrestling ring to the ground with no padding. Diving onto a junked car parked beside the ring. Taking a back suplex onto a plethora of steel chairs at the rickety ringside. He adds 45 pounds to each side of the bar, bringing the total to 315 pounds. He stares intently, as he remembers how easily Penny Shannon suplexed him at SuperBrawl X, how close she was to actually beating him.
 
However, thinking about that leads to something else. A former world champion just months before, he beats fairly and cleanly in the ring, and isn’t considered for anything. No World Title shot, no International Title shot, just thrown back into the pack like chopped liver. Told “wow you did good, you beat a former world champ! Now go headline and bring in ratings while the champions take a break so they can come back and take it back from you, just to have the same thing happen again!” His eyes flicker, the room for a second turns red in his world. His heart determined, his back sore, his mind racing. He throws the retention clip off again and adds one last set of 45 pound weights to each side of the bar, putting the clips back on and staring at his handy work. 405 pounds should be no problem for him. It wasn’t in the day. Considering the fire in the pit of his stomach, it’s nothing but a pillow weight at this point.
 
He squats down, gripping firmly at the lift bar preparing to deadlift. Sets his feet and gives a slight tug, feeling the weight but not moving it. He breathes in as deep as possible, before slowly lifting the bar off the floor. One inch, two inches, he’s at three and he’s starting to smile as he prepares for the explosive movement into a full standing position, but just as he checks that his feet are planted-
 
Logan Deville!
 
The loud cry from Kaitlyn startled Devilkiller enough to lose his form, his legs buckle as he jumps, the weight is starting to be felt in his back as he tries to stay upright, but ultimately fails as he falls forward, rolling over the bar and doing everything to keep from smashing headfirst into the ground. The weights land on the small rubber mats that make a loud thud that reverberates throughout the home.
 
What do you think you’re doing?
 
With his tail tucked between his legs, Devilkiller slowly uses the metal pieces of the rack to help him to his feet. I was doing my lifts. I thought it’d help speed the process along.
 
By throwing out the muscles surrounding your back huh? They weren’t used hardly for the first 2 weeks after surgery! Need I remind you that you had a lumbar fusion surgery? You got lucky it was only a few months. But this? This soon? You’re asking for disaster. You’re gonna hurt yourself and you’re not gonna forgive yourself.
 
But I want to wrestle baby, it’s been so long. I miss it, they miss me. You know that-
 
I don’t care if they miss you. I care that my son has a dad that’s not in a wheel chair. I don’t care if you wrestle again, that’s not what I’m saying to you. I’m saying to you you’re gonna do it the right way, you’re not gonna do it like this, and you’re not gonna kill yourself or hurt yourself trying to rush back into it. I want my son to be able to keep playing with his father for the next few years until he moves out and away from us. I want you to be able to help him with his car or help him fix something in his house, not be confined to a wheel chair.
 
Devilkiller leans against the side of the rack, sighing at the weights and cursing himself in his own mind. Yeah, yeah you’re right. I’ll let it rest for now. How childish of me, geez.
 

Devilkiller steps over the bar and starts to walk out of the room following behind Kaitlyn, looking back one last time before turning the light off and shutting the door behind him. He walks through the small hall toward the kitchen and looks back over at Carter still doing something with his paper and pencil. Devilkiller shuffles across the carpet to the couch and looks over Carter’s shoulder at the page. A poorly drawn pair of pants with some odd designs on them jumps back toward him, as he deciphers what it is exactly.

Ah, your wrestling pants huh?

Yeah! I like them. I want those that look like they’re jogging pants or something. I don’t want to wear underwear.

Devilkiller feels the corner of his lip tighten up a bit, he’s proud he’s been able to keep the inside of the business away from his kid as much as possible. Seeing it fail with others inside the business, he knew he wanted Carter to be different. Find the organic love not the inside love.

Ahh, so I see! You’re gonna talk momma into getting those for you?

No! No you’re gonna get them!

The father-son duo play argue back and forth about how Devilkiller isn’t gonna pay for them, and how Carter wants him to. The scene sets in with Devilkiller. It’s stuck in his mind. It’s in his memory. He wants Carter to remember him, and not as a nobody. He wants to be something Carter can be proud of. The fact his life has been a meaningless facade until now is breathtaking. He had one run as National Champion, but even that streak died as soon as it was out of his hands. Being on the verge of 30 is scary for plenty of people, but even moreso when you look back at your prime and you couldn’t accomplish more than a title that no longer exists. The National Championship is pretty much erased from the minds of most people now. The fact he will never be able to revive something of his that made him eligible for the Pro Wrestling Hall of Fame is earth shattering.

As the argument ends with Devilkiller’s somber “okay buddy I guess I’ll get them” he retreats to the back patio, and sits by the glass table in a barely padded chair and grabs a cigarette from his pack. The ember illuminates his face after each drag. He has these feelings of despair that apparently so many other wrestlers have. Every single one battling through injury, every single one battling drug addiction, it’s a broken record at this point. Can’t smoke pot because then he’s the male version of Penny Shannon. Can’t pop pills or worse, because then he’s half the locker room. Can’t kill a dog because then he’s Drakz.

That last one is definitely a step too far in the wrong direction.

He pulls another long drag out and tries to ransack his brain. He remembers Phillip Schneider’s reign, one that he never thought would end. One many thought wouldn’t end. Scarlett Quinn surprised many people that night. Surprisingly enough, that’s the last time he remembers being remembered even. For all of a few moments. His first defense of the National Title where no one thought this new guy could hang, yet he did. But a fast forward through the matches and now days his match isn’t the one that’s talked about, it’s when Scarlett Quinn becomes the first woman to win the WFWF World Title. And rightfully so, but then it happened when Devilkiller beat Penny Shannon. The only thing talked about was Drakz and Kyzer. Again, to be fair, it was a big moment, but when were they gonna stop and realize “oh man. We have this guy here that’s consistently beating roster members”? Then he goes on to main event shows with the likes of Cameron Stone, Needles, and was going to headline with Destroyer, and even headlined with Thunder. All of these WFWF legends fell to the man that is Devilkiller but all he’s accomplished is a measly 2nd longest National Title run? That’s what he’s remembered for?

He takes another drag but finds it’s been smoked, down to the butt, and the cherry fell off long ago, yet his mind still races.

Can he pull off the upset if given the chance? That would be legendary, career ending AND a new WFWF World Champion. He day dreams of it, but doesn’t see how it could happen in the shape he’s in. There’s no way, really...

February 26th, 2021

I’m really glad the surgery went well, but bro you gotta keep up with the physical therapy. That’s part of the process for a reason.

Devilkiller and Jayson Sykes are sitting in Sykes’ wrestling room. Him being single means his 3 bedroom 1.5 bath single story home is his playground. He has one full room dedicated to wrestling with a big screen TV with every WFWF Pay Per View at his finger tips as they rewatch Psycho Circus. The three fabric chairs sit evenly spaced with ashtrays and tables between them, big enough for the trays and a drink. Jayson’s sipping on some kind of IPA, while Devilkiller is puffing away on a cigarette. Their rewatching the Devilkiller vs Andrew Carter match, letting Devilkiller relive his glory days. He winces as he watch his much younger body plummet through the wooden table from a 10 foot ladder.

That should’ve made me have this surgery.

You’re telling me. I was watching this live at a friends house with some pizza. Now actually being in the business, I don’t understand how it didn’t keep you down.

Will.

The word hangs in the air much like the smoke from his cigarette filling the room without a window cracked. His eyes no longer focusing on the screen anymore even if they’re pointed toward it. His mind leaves his body as he thinks back to 2013, how his mind was in the game, how ready he was, how hungry. Has he gotten full with 8 years passing?

So you got your diagnosis back from the neurologist?

Devilkiller snaps back into focus as he’s driven to the mat with a flying crossbody, watching as Andrew Carter tries unsuccessfully to get the pin fall. Yeah, they told me just the other day that they shouldn’t return. Since I’ve had downtime and not getting slammed headfirst into the mat, along with medication, they have subsided for now. Always a chance they can come back after a nasty hit, but they’re gonna always be considered gone from my memory, quite literally.

Jayson chuckles as he watches Devilkiller superkick Carter’s head clean off his shoulders. This part always got me. Just watching his head snap back, it’s insane. I am glad about the seizures though, man. I truly am.

Devilkiller left wondering about his opponent though, did the kick and subsequently the nasty snap to the mat end his career? He doesn’t even remember Carter showing up much more after that. Maybe Carter had the same thing that he had.

Devilkiller tries to push that to the back of his mind as he watches the beautiful Devil’s Final Flight, and the pin as he’s awarded the title in his first defense. He’s been in this company for almost 9 years, and people still remember him, he’s one of the few from that time frame to really stick around, yet there’s plenty on this show that aren’t around anymore. No more Phillip Schneider and his KMFDM shirts he rarely washed, no more word from Scarlett Quinn, Cameron Stone looks to be off TV now too, perhaps back to make a movie, no more Cam Nitta to his knowledge, Trace Demon is... dead, atleast he thinks he is, and Tommy Staxx hasn’t been seen since he believes SuperBraw VIII, when he beat him. The industry has changed so much, so many great wrestlers gone. Is this because of a method of abuse? If that were the case how can Drakz keep going? He does claim he’s a God Slayer, so just maybe that’s what it is. He’s a God, or at the very least a demi god, and those who have beaten him are the closest to true Devil’s if there ever was one.

Devilkiller shakes his head as he puts the cigarette out, looking toward his best friend with a glimmer of desperation in his eyes. I can’t do it, can I?

Do what?

Devilkiller tries to swallow down the lump in his throat. This, do this crazy stunts to show I still want it. Do this amazing, beautiful thing called wrestling. I can’t do it at the ability I was right? So many people before me gone and wasted away... I’m next, right? Always so close to grabbing the WFWF by the balls yet stumbled every time halfway up the ladder. The Crash and Burn of Devilkiller: On sale at a $5 Below near you!

Jayson sits and hears it all the way through, staying silent for a few extra moments while Devilkiller pulls another cigarette from his pack and lights with a quick flick of the thumb and takes a long, exaggerated drag off of it. Because you want it.

What? That’s it? I want it?

Yeah, you want it. You want to wrestle, it’s all you’ve ever known. You want the WFWF championship, even if it takes you until you’re 45 to do it, you’re gonna want it still, and you’re gonna do it. You’ll learn how exactly to do it by that point, you’re not even 30 yet. Relax, take a deep breath. I know it’s scary realizing you can have just a few years left in the tank and after back surgery? Oh man, it puts s**t in perspective for you. I get it, I do. But don’t let that tell you how to wrestle and how to go about your life. But who am I? I’m just a nobody that made a decent payday and bounced away. Be different. Be what you wanted to be, but said couldn’t do. Be the WFWF Hall of Famer, be the WFWF Champion, hell, be the whole damn WFWF! Now quit your pity party, we’re watching just to get you in the right mindset not the wrong headset.

Devilkiller holds the full flavor cigarette to his lips, just trying to fully understand and process everything that was said. He finally puffs on it to let a billow of smoke roll out into the room. You sure?

Jayson just looks at him and smiles, nodding his head before getting up to turn Psycho Circus off and find something else to put on.

Devilkiller can’t help but smile about it, before watching along with Jayson whatever it is he’s wanting to watch.

March 7th, 2021

Honey! I’m so happy for you! I’m glad they finally called you for SuperBrawl! I’m glad their doctors think you’re cleared to get back in there. I’m just.. I’m hesitant. I don’t want to lose you as you are. If you’re sure you’re okay, then okay. I support it, just like little man does.

My dad’s gonna be wrestling again! Oh man, I can’t wait to tell that to everyone at school. We get to come too right?

Devilkiller chuckles as he steps away from the bar island of the kitchen, stretching his back side to side and front to back. You’re both coming along, of course. I feel fantastic! I’ve kept up with some yoga exercises, I feel pretty limber, light on my feet.

But are you sure you’re okay? In every aspect? Mentally, physically, emotionally?

Stop worrying Kaitlyn. I wouldn’t have said yes if I couldn’t go anymore, but I know I can go. I know I can keep it up. The main thing is getting back into the routine, and after that it’s over with!

Kaitlyn sighs and nods, knowing damn well that he’s not changing his mind, turns toward the fridge and pulls out a bottle of wine, contemplating on drinking straight from the bottle but instead does the human thing and grab a glass. Meanwhile, Carter is talking a million miles a minute.

Wrestling has gotten him through some tough times. Wrestling is how Devilkiller found out he had a son, some 8 years ago. Wrestling is how they started bonding, and wrestling has became the glue that has held their father-son relationship together through Devilkiller’s early years in wrestling. This fact, added onto the ones Jayson named the other day are why Devilkiller accepted this match. He hasn’t worked out in 5 months. The weights with the weight bar still lay on the ground where he left them, but he knew as long as he was cleared he had to accept. He can’t let Carter down, and slowly let their relationship fade. He can’t let his past transgressions come back to haunt him. Yeah, Carter is 11 now, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t remember. It took Kaitlyn a while to forgive him for the things he did, for letting his mom sit in jail, for calling Kaitlyn a ring rat, for calling Carter one in a million chance his, even though they were the only the other had been with. When they decided to get together, Kaitlyn taught him a lot, and made him a better person because of it. He gets urges once in a while, usually he tames it to just in ring, but sometimes he has those moments.

But especially now, he doesn’t ever have reasons to get upset except for wrestling. It’s the thing that keeps him alive and destroys him. He lets Carter’s words fade and starts remembering everything. It finally hits him that even when he first started, he was on a roll, beating Carter Contra and Mickey Donovan in a match clean, then main evented the next week in a battle royal, then the next week Carter Contra got a championship match for the National Title. It wasn’t until Devilkiller pointed out he was the rightful heir to the crown and proved it when he beat him fast, fair and square. Even then, the company wasn’t wanting to get behind him. Fast forward years and years later, some 6 years later at that, he main events 3 shows, and doesn’t get any recognition from it. The 3 he main evented? The champions decided to take off. So while Devilkiller was busy drawing ratings they were relaxing in hotel rooms and screwing hookers. Then they came back to claim their spot back and the company pushed him to the side, even though he beat the likes of Thunder, the likes of Penny Shannon who had pinned Drakz a few months prior to SuperBrawl, Cameron Stone, and the list goes on. Putting his body on the line in a multitude of these matches, before being thrown off the cell in Stone vs DK III and finally injuring himself.

This thought, this new revelation that has been planted in his minds eye is growing, no longer just a sapling but a full Great Oak, has him even more excited to wrestle. He’s not ready, he’s not prepared for anything, but he has a broken smile and a shoot from the hip attitude he’s ready to take what’s his. And what’s his? A gauntlet match to become the number one contender. He wants to be the one that becomes the number one contender. After everything he’s done over the years, it’s his time to become champion. He’s not even picky. He obviously prefers to be the World Champ, but if all the company will give him is a Vanguard contender ship, he will take it and run with it.

But man, does he want Drakz. He wants the fame of ending the longest reigning WFWF World Champion in history. He wants to be something the others could never be.

A God.

Devilkiller just shoots out of the room, down the hall, toward the weight.

Carter and Kaitlyn follow behind, confused by how he just up and ran randomly in what seemed like mid conversation with Carter.

As Kaitlyn rounds the corner she sees Devilkiller squatting down, gripping the bar and ready to lift. Logan! Have you not been doing your physical therapy?

Nope, but here I am getting ready to prove-

Ohhhh no. Nope. I’m calling Kash back right now.

If you do that, I swear to God you’ll never see me again.

Kaitlyn stops mid turn, and turns back to face Devilkiller, who’s looking at her from his squatted position. You’d really do that, huh? Just for a f**king match?

Devilkiller sighs, he lets go of the bar for a moment, wiping his hands on his joggers. Me wrestling, this match, is for us as a family. Without it, you wouldn’t have that brand new Range Rover outside. Without it, Carter wouldn’t have the toys he does and without it I wouldn’t have Carter. So if I have to leave for you to realize that, I’d do it. I just hope you can see for yourself that despite what you think,

Devilkiller stops mid sentence and quickly starts standing up, gripping the bar and yanking it up with him. All 405 pounds to his waist. Kaitlyn gasps and throws her hand to her mouth, scared he’s gonna end up hurting himself. But there’s no movement, his legs not shaky, his back holding strong. He smiles and starts bending down again, just to explode back up and throws the bar up to his chest, and as the weight starts falling downward he pushes the weights straight up, holding it there.

I’m really fine. And I can do it.

Carter is amazed, eyes popped out, mouth agape, he’s bewildered by his fathers strength, as Kaitlyn just looks on at the whole scene as an out of body experience. She slowly removes her hand from her mouth, shaking her head.

Fine, go for it. Do what you need to do. I think after this whole weekend ends, we need to go back to couples therapy. There’s obviously some things we need to work out for the betterment of our family. I’ll schedule the appointment.

With that she storms out of the room in a flurry of blonde hair, as Devilkiller lets his weight down to his chest and back to the floor carefully. Carter smiles on at his dad, a for sure superhero in his eyes, as he watches him maneuver the weight.

You do this for me? But I love you dad, it’s just a cool bonus that you’re a wrestler.

Devilkiller smiles and bends down to be eye level with his kid. Yeah, it is a cool bonus I get to wrestle, but at the end of the day, it’s because of you and me and how well we get along. I’ll keep doing it too so we can keep that up.

SuperBrawl

Devilkiller is sitting in a dimly red lit room, his hoodie pulled over his head but not covering his face, he rubs his hands over each other, the callouses making awful sounds as they scrap across one another.

2012, November 10th to be exact, was my first match in WFWF history. 8 full years, and getting dangerously close to 9. Of course, injuries, time off, being released, being rehired and injuries again, it hasn’t been consistent. In fact my last run was my most consistent, surprisingly enough. Not even my Championship run was that consistent.

Tonight I have a chance to get a championship match. Tonight I have Dave Demento, a guy that’s very capable, and then there’s Jebediah Whatley, who is a complete new comer and will be coming in red hot ready to make an impact. There’s the unfortunate reality these two men have to face, though.

8 full years ago I was wrestling in main events, my third match here actually. Anyone remember that? Eh, it was a battle royal. Before that match, funnily enough, I beat three men. Carter Contra, who went on to win the WFWF National Championship from Joe Bishop, hi Joe, and Mickey Donovan in a triple threat match to be in contention for the World Heavyweight Championship. A few weeks later, Carter Contra won the National Championship, even though I had only lost the battle royal to that point, and kept racking up singles victories. I was the one that had to remind the people in charge that I had beaten this same man just under a month ago, yet I don’t get first chance? Surprising, yes. So then it goes, I went on to have one of the best WFWF National Championship Reigns that’s still recognized as the longest with as many defenses as I had. How crazy is that, about how soon we forget?

I was 21, just a kid, barely able to drink a beer after I got done kicking ass. Now, I sit before you as a year shy of 30, hair has silver streaking through in places, yet between 2019 and 2020, I did very well with running the show. Every time the champions were away, I main evented. Every time they needed something entertaining to bring viewers in, I was there. Yet, it’s been 8 years since I’ve had any kind of title shot, if memory serves me correct. It’s also been 8 years since I’ve had any kind of chance at a number one contender match too. See, even if I kick ass, beat legends, beat former WFWF World Champion Penny Shannon at SuperBrawl X, I didn’t get the recognition. Nope, not for me. Even though I had proved how valuable I am, not even a contender ship match.

So, I walk in tonight with a chip on my shoulder. F**k what the other two have. I couldn’t care less. I know I’m walking into SuperBrawl and walking out of SuperBrawl as the rightful claim to the crown of number one contender. If you don’t believe me, let’s do something that’s, gasp, a shocker! A little shoot, as in, a legitimate shoot.

Me, and not Devilkiller, as in LOGAN, as a writer HAS beaten Drakz, the writer. One time, mind you, but it’s more than the others can say. Don’t believe me? Go back and read Jayson Sykes vs Billy Broom. Maybe he wasn’t trying as hard, but I did do it. The others? They can’t say that. They literally can’t taste the bottom of my shoes I’m on such a higher level.

So, whether it’s as me Devilkiller, or me Logan, I’m walking into SuperBrawl and taking what is mine. It’s time for Drakz vs Devilkiller to happen. I’ll accept the outcome of that match, no matter what happens. This one? This one there is no question. It’s me, and always has been me, and if you don’t believe me...

Devilkiller stands up, shaking his arms a bit, then swings a punch straight toward the camera, making it look like the screen shatters but instead it’s a mirror that’s shattered, fragmented into broken pieces as the camera focuses on a shard still in frame of Devilkiller.

Just watch me.