"The Bay Area Butcher"

[Jace O'Brien]

"This 's how it's gonna' be, huh?

Georgia DeLise wants me to watch 'er back, make sure those snobby tarts in the Mean Girl Mafia don't get their hands on her and she's gonna' pay ole' Jace O'Brien handsomely. Money. Title opportunities. The works, huh?

I can get on with this.

The first matter of business was for her to keep up her end of the deal and she has. Shoot Saturday on July Twenty-Third, yours truly faces off against this Bryce Albright bloke. And Georgia, she made this match for the Bay Area Championship. This means that I will become the companies first crowned champion; and nothing could be more fitting. In case ya' missed it, the battle has already begun. At Vendetta I made that little prat Dallas Blake the first casualty. Now I get thrown Bryce Albright. Victim two served on a fuckin' platter.

A big, blundering oaf of a man this Bryce Albright bloke is. And as strong as he is, as technically gifted as he is - he's stupid. He makes mistakes. Between him and his father, I doubt the two of 'em could form an articulate sentence. So if reading is a challenge and forming a coherent thought is beyond their reach; how could Bryce Albright beat me?

As far as I'm concerned, Bryce was bloody lucky against Raven. He won't be so lucky against me. The strong bull mentality will only work for so long, Bryce. You'll show your superiority in that category and maybe even out suplex me. But mate, once I target a limb and throw my strikes? You're a corpse. When I throw my kicks, they kill. My elbows, they decapitate. And my punches, they execute. Even the best trained in the art of combat cannot defend against any of that, how will you? You will fail just like Dallas Blake did, but your defeat will be much more significant. 

Your defeat serves a whole other purpose than simply adding another strike under the 'W' column for me. Shoot Saturday is the night where a champion is crowned, where someone steps up for their coronation. In order to be a king, Bryce, you have to have the ability to slay anyone in the land - even the biggest foe that could step up and oppose. With a six foot plus and a well over two hundred pound frame - you are the biggest foe I've seen so far, and you will be slain as if you were any other Muppet that shows up to my doorstep.

Consider this a warning, Bryce.

I'm not going to go lightly or take it easy on ya', bruv. I'm coming for the win. I'm coming for blood. I'm coming for that championship.

Georgia, you have chosen wisely and you have held up your end of the bargain thus far, love. I shall hold up mine as soon as I put this bloke out of his misery."

- Your friendly Bay Area Butcher.
Jace O'Brien

[Jace O'Brien]

My name is Jace O'Brien  and I have been contracted to eliminate the filth that this company has seemed to gather.

Georgia DeLise has put her complete faith in me - not Jack Owyns anymore, not anyone else - but ME, in order to ensure that this company returns to what it once was and what it should be again. Joe DeLise did not leave this company to his children for them to cock it up and let two tarts like Mondae and Arianny take it over like they did in the last shit hole they stepped foot in. One by one, I'm going to do what I was contracted to do. Eliminate them. It began at the last Vendetta when I took out that annoying twit Dallas Blake.

The Mean Girl Mafia will be... oh, whats the expression? Sleeping with tha' fishes.

That of course happens after Shoot Saturday. In exchange for my skills I have been handed another side job - you could say. I've been given the order to step into the ring with this stupid looking muppet named Bryce Albright and claim the Bay Area Championship for my own. I have been given the order to take the companies most gifted technician and bring 'em down a peg or two. 

Because, ya'see, it seems old Wilfred 'as filled Bryce's infantile head full of promises of stardom here in RSW. Giving him false belief that he's actually worth the air he breathes. It's my job to prove otherwise. To not only him, but to others as well. 'Ere's looking at you, Mean Girls.

Bryce's size advantage doesn't intimidate me. His wrestling skills don't worry me. His father being at ringside won't bother me. I'm focused, I'm driven, and I'm determined to step into the ring, onto the battle field, and maim and destroy Bryce Albright. I've even accepted the fact that I will kill him where he stands, if I have to.

I'm superior in every way I need to be. I don't spend my days off as a bank teller, I spend them in the gym sparring to improve my skills. I didn't need my father - the nonexistent one I had - to train me or find me a trainer. I'm a man and I did this by myself. But ya' know? I'm going to love the look on your father's face after I kick your ass, mate. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with disbelief as his son gets all of his hopes and dreams shattered - just like his fuckin' jaw.

This is nothin' personal, mate. It's strictly business. You're standin' in my way and it's best you walk away now before it's too late and you find yourself six feet under ground.

The RSW is rich in history, and I'm going to add to it on Shoot Saturday. I'm going to become the companies first Bay Area Champion, all I have to do is put down Bryce Alright.

Prepare to meet death and it's name is Jace O'Brien.