Bobby Who?

They always told me I was destined for great things. That I would do things that got people talking. That someday, somehow, I would be someone. I would be the best. I would make people remember my name. They would look upon my face, and know...this was the face of a man they could not forget. They told me I would be great. They told me I would make history.

They were right.

Bobby O'Marshall, or whatever you decided your name is...

Well, let me stop myself.

My name is Craig Hemming. The Hammer. The Motor City Machine.

The One Percent.

Or, as IWF now knows me, The Guy That Knocked Chuck Matthews the Fuck Out Last Week.

Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

That doesn't matter. I did what I did, and my reasons are my own. What's important is that this week, I make my official in-ring debut. This week, I compete against a man who has often been hyped as one of the pound-for-pound strongest men in wrestling. A mat technician. An amateur wrestler.

I'm going to take a shot in the dark and say that by "amateur wrestler," you don't mean the kind that gets down on the mat in a singlet. I assume you mean "amateur" as in "You're going to get your ass kicked by the professional."

I mean, look at yourself, Bobby. The greatest thing you ever did with your life was to be born an O'Day, maybe one of the last few wrestling families left. Guess what? You threw that away, you dumb shit. Brilliant. Truly, awe inspiring. Fucking idiot.

Me, though? I'm one of the best. I have the genetics, the build, and the skill to back up every word that I say. Don't believe me? Step up against me when we meet up this week. Come down to that ring, go toe-to-toe with The Hammer.

You're going to get beaten down.

Knocked the fuck out.

You're just another of the ninety-nine percent that is not Craig Hemming.