GRUDGE MATCH
EL PARCA
vs.
ANTHONY MARTIN
We cut to a rundown dojo standing in the neglected corner of a crumbling brick building, its once-proud sign now faded and barely legible.
Inside, the wooden floor is worn and creaks underfoot, a testament to years of training. The walls, covered in peeling paint, are adorned with tattered wrestling posters from a bygone era.
A musty odor pervades the air, a mixture of sweat, old gym equipment, and the unmistakable smell of mold. The fluorescent lights overhead flicker intermittently, casting eerie shadows on the cracked mats and patched-up punching bags. A few mismatched chairs line the perimeter, their upholstery torn and stained.
Standing amidst the rundown dojo is a freak of nature, hailing from Mongolia, by way of Japan.
Palkha:Ladies and Gentlemen, if you've forgotten who I am, I don't blame you. I am a man of few words. I am Palkha Aadne.
The reason you don't know who I am is simple. You can't stop talking about people like Bolek, Karmine, BASH, and any other one of Paul Pugh's precious little toys on Ambition.
You all gawk over them, yet none of you want to acknowledge that you're looking at the hardest hitting man to come out of Scumchester since Wrex himself. There's a reason Wrex calls me his Right Hand Man, and it's because the Nuclear Option found his WMD.
So Paul, when you're done protecting your little flock of sheep, you'll know who to call, and I expect a welcoming committee when I walk through the doors of Ambition.
Palkha walks past the camera and heads for the front doors, the camera finally catches up to the big man as the doors are closing behind him, and the scene fades to black.
RESPECT BATTLE
MARK REESE vs. B17