Perfection is no longer on the cruiseship, in fact he has made his way to Tokyo, Japan for his match at International Affairs. He stands in his usual grey suit set up as he stands outside of Japan’s national site, The Meiji Shrine. Both hands are in his pockets with the camera at an angle to get a shot of the shrine and Perfection from the side. James turns his head towards the camera.
“Thank God there are port stops on that so-called cruise, Ungratefuls. I figured, I did my obligation for UTA by turning Yeshua into human mush on Proving Grounds…and since we stopped in Taipei...why not just fly out to Tokyo and enjoy myself rather than have to do another hundred photo-ops on that floating asylum.”
The camera moves behind Perfection as his right hand comes out of his pocket and motions towards the shrine showing it to us.
“Look at it...ever see something constructed so well? Something that was built in honor and RESPECT for one of the greatest of all time?”
Leaning his head back Perfection closes his eyes and waves his hand in front of his nose. He inhales deeply.
“Take it all in, Ungratefuls...I’ve brought you the closest you will ever come to the Meiji Shrine with your measly payrolls. This very shrine was dedicated to the first modern Emperor of Japan, Emperor Meiji, obviously. Meiji would bring Japan into western civilization, he brought this island into the world power status, he legitimized this country.”
Putting his hand back into his pocket he spins on the heels of his feet to face the camera.
“Sounds like ‘Yours Truly’ and the UTA, doesn’t it? UTA...a land that was led by a man who couldn’t even keep his health! UTA...who let that same man keep my belt for months as he laid in a hospital bed and while doing so let the ratings drop to iPPV-Two levels!”
His hand comes out from his pocket and begins to jam at his chest.
“Until someone took control...ME! It wasn’t until I held the UTA World Championship that ratings skyrocketed, pre-sale tickets were selling out the window, and we took the number one spot as the worlds greatest wrestling company! It was when the belt was strapped around MY waist that others started abandoning their ships to come to the UTA in order to wrestle me!”
Perfection smiles at the camera as he scratches his eyebrow snickering lightly before looking back at us.
“I legitimized the UTA much like Meiji legitimized Japan! Yet...not one tribute is paid to me, not a single shrine does the UTA build in honor of what I’ve done...of what Sean Jackson has done! No, they’d rather throw us in matches to earn our keep rather than give us our re-match clauses!”
Eyes glaring at the camera he places one foot on a step with his hand resting on his knee.
“That’s right, Ungratefuls...they won’t honor my rematch clause from All or Nothing but they sure as hell gave you what you asked for, didn’t they? They’ll take a garbage online poll...they’ll take the votes of the UNWORTHY and put Zhalia Fears in a title match!? Disgraceful! Wrestlers on this roster who don’t even deserve to be even looking at the UTA World Championship, let alone wrestling for it, all because of THEIR skewed idea of entertainment and your stupidity!”
Both of his hands thrust towards his chest.
“Yet I have to work for it?! Sean had to work for it?! That’s the UTA...that’s why this company needs me as the champion again...to have the POWER to put them in check! It needs me to have my UTA World Championship strapped around MY waist and lead this company much like I led the now dysfunctional Dynasty! A prime example of what a vacuum of MY leadership looks like...failure and desperation.”
James shakes his head, he looks actually disgruntled.
“And then you have poor Sean…’The Mental Rapist’ had to put his career at risk to grab a briefcase and become ‘Mr. Ace in the Hole’. Now, I have to face three others to earn my shot, you don’t see the game? Toying with talent and poking the bears...an insufferable Perfection now has to beat the piss out of three wrestlers because of management...and let’s just be frank, it’s not a Fatal Fourway that I’m in- it’s a three on one handicap match!”
Unbuttoning his suit jacket he pulls the lapels towards the camera. His foot that was on the step springing off as he angrily points at the camera.
“That’s right...it’s everyone against ‘Yours Truly’! Fears, Stevens, Quinlan will all jump right at me, that’s the fear I put in them; that’s the way THEY want it! And I’ll just roll right out of the ring and bide my time...picking my opponents off...one...by...one, as Wingate screams at his television! That’s how damn good I am, Ungratefuls!”
Perfection starts to smirk.
“All three are gunning for the man who wants it more than them! All three attempting to stop what I think about every single hour of the day...MY UTA Championship! You’re going to need a hell of a lot more than three of you to stop me from that belt! I didn’t come back to the UTA so the Ungratefuls can see my immaculate face again...I came back for MY gold!”
Nodding his head he extends his hand towards the camera, a welcoming manner across Witherhold’s face.
“Plus, there’s no real loss to you three by losing to me. You guys, and gal, get to move on in your careers... potentially taking other titles and proving yourselves worthy of my UTA Championship one day. Or you’ll fall flat on your face and end up eventually leaving the UTA.”
James shrugs his shoulders.
“Either way, I don’t care as long as I am on top...which I WILL be! Sure, I’d rather have my contendership in a one on one match but I have no problem playing this rank amature game with management.”
His hand raises up towards his head as he begins to tap on his temple.
“I know the question on your minds, Ungratefuls. Why play management’s game though? Why not wait on a solid one on one contendership match? Simple...Sean did it; he overcame the odds, he took what he wanted and now has his title shot banked. Now, it’s my turn. It’s my time to rise up and take what I rightfully deserve despite the odds since the regime chooses to not honor their clauses!”
Closing his eyes he shakes his head.
“I’m a man of broken promises which means my opponents are men...and women...of broken dreams. I feel for you guys and gal, I’m empathetic to what they’re putting you through. Dangling a carrot in front of your face...making you think you are so close to getting that UTA World Championship shot...”
Sarcastically frowning he begins bobbing his right hand.
“...and then pulling the carrot right out from under your nose. Sure, they did it unknowingly...they did it thinking they would get another screw job on ‘Yours Truly’. However, they made you believe you were special in the process, they made you believe you had just as much of a chance for that shot as anyone else...”
Again Perfection smiles, this time we get the pearly whites.
“Well, I love to be the bearer of bad news...THEY lied- that chance isn’t happening! Not with me in the ring it sure as hell isn’t...not when it comes to taking back what’s MINE! But...you’re not the first they’ve lied to, certainly won’t be the last! So, ask yourself this…”
Leaning towards the camera his hands clasp together.
“Am I...really the bad guy?”
He raises his eyebrow.
“Am I the one you should all be gunning at- the one that you should take down? Or...maybe...just maybe...I’m the man you should be rallying behind. Maybe I’m the man you should lay down on the canvass for and allow to win. That would be logical...in fact, far too logical for you types.”
James huffs agitated with the level of stupidity.
“So, you can fight. You can attempt to prove me wrong...you can stand your ground and believe with the greatest conviction that you are walking out of Tokyo with a banked UTA World Title shot. You can do that...and you’ll regret you ever did! I’m not here to toy with you like they have...I’m not here because I think I can maybe win…”
Perfection returns one hand back into his pocket.
“I’m here because I CAN win...I will win...I WANT to win! I don’t have the Wildfire, Prodigy, or Legacy belts in my sights...I have the UTA World Championship...and it’s waiting for me to take it back to Los Angeles.”
He starts to wave the camera away.
“Good luck in the other title matches...I have Eric Dane or La Flama Blanca to look forward to.”