AS-003: Fault

[Deleted]

A little over a month ago, PURE Wrestling Seattle learned a hard lesson, and that lesson was that Ash Scion, one-on-one, can beat anyone that they put in front of me. Fact. It wasn't a lesson that they wanted to learn, though, and they've had a pretty difficult time dealing with it since they did. Fact is, I'm not the face they want for this company. Clearly. I'm too headstrong, to anti-authority, and way, way to fucking violent. So PURE had to find a way to keep me down.

Their solution? Simply to keep me out of one-on-one matches.

So here I am, back in PURE and once again scheduled in some grand clusterfuck of a Four-Way Dance. Real creative booking there, guys. I mean, why not just c'mon out and admit it? Admit that despite what the fans want to see, which is Ash Scion in that ring tearing apart the best of the best, face-to-face and one-on-one, you guys are determined to just throw all sense aside and keep booking me in these matches that are more about luck than skill and ability, because you know that a PURE Wrestling with Ash Scion atop the mountain isn't a PURE Wrestling that you can control. Not in the slightest.

So instead of being in that ring, competing the way I thought I would be when I came to this company, I'm in these damned multi-participant circus sideshows again and again, just so PURE can tell the world that I've fizzled out. Fizzled out? Their words, not mine. When I read that on the internet, I had a mind to come down to the PURE offices and snap a piece off of both Rebel and Callahan, but Anna stopped me. Any time Anna Molly is the voice of pacifism and reason, you know that there's a fucking problem. I mean face it, if I had come to PURE to be a tag-team wrestler, I would have brought Anna Molly with me, and just like that, Code Red would have been PURE Tag-Team Champions. And if I'd wanted to wrestle exclusively in clusterfuck matches, I would have stayed in the eWo... and that place would likely still be open if I had.

I came to PURE to prove that I'm the best of the best, and instead I'm relegated to the mid-card sideshow.

I went from beating APB in PURE's first ever Main Event to working the curtain and mop-up crew. Well, so be it.... if I'm to be the gatekeeper for PURE, making sure that newcomers like Jackpot and Drexel Chancellor are worthy to hang here, so be it. And if I'm to be PURE's janitor, cleaning up the losing-streak suffering idiots who are sliding down the ladder here in PURE, like Jair Hopkins, well... so be it. Keep booking me beneath my station, PURE. Keep wasting me. I'll kill em all. I'll kill em all and I'll still put Asses In Seats the entire time. But know this, and know it well: I'm gonna break bones, tear tendons, whatever I have to do until either you realize that I'm not the bitch you want to be fucking with, or until my contract runs out. You're only going to have two options if you keep booking me like this: Disqualify me quick, or watch as I get savage on these fools and thin your roster out until you've got no choice but to book me straight.

And Rebel, Callahan? I want you to know this as well: Every single drop of blood, every broken bone, every career I end and every wrestler I put on the shelf? It's all on you. All of it, every fucking corpse. You pushed me into this corner, you'd best be prepared to face the destruction I'm gonna unleash now.

It's all your fault.