For England

William walks angrily down the hallway. Once again, the Right Honourable Gentlemen had been humiliated by those degenerate Irishmen...and Rose and Matthews. Something was wrong. The Gentlemen had been the most powerful force in IWF...now it was becoming a bit of a joke. Ever since Lord Blackwing had stopped competing, things had started to slide downhill...it would be up to William to get the ball rolling in their favour once more. He continues walking down the hall, and catches sight of Megan O'Day leaning against the wall. She smiles when she sees him.

"Hey Will-"

William turns to her angrily.

"Look. I do not want to speak to you. I don't want to 'hang out' or whatever it is you call it. I wish to be alone, so that I can think about some problems that need to be resolved."

Megan seems upset and taken aback by William's sudden outburst. She looks at the ground, and nods slightly.

"Yeah....yeah, sorry. I'll see you later."

She turns to walk off, and William suddenly feels a pang of guilt. He shakes his head, and grabs Megan's shoulder. She turns to look at him, a slight smile spreading across her face.

"What do you want to do?"

She smiles wider, and grabs William's hand, leading the way.

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When did the Right Honourable Gentlemen become such a frail body? When was that point when the faction that had taken this company by storm, was suddenly looked down upon as a joke?

My name is William Darlington, of the noble Darlington ancestry, a lineage that dates back to the reign of King Charles I. For centuries, the Darlington family has stood for honour, for valour. For victory.

And yet, I can't seem to pull off even the simplest of victories. That brute Death-Angel defeated us? Took away my spot at the IWF Full Throttle Championship match at Bloody Sunday?

Instead, I'm forced to fight Tim Patrick, who holds this unjustified vendetta against me for things that I had no control over. A history lesson on Bloody Sunday, Patrick? Is that right? You're going to hold me responsible for my country's actions years ago?

Look around you, sir. Do you see Mr. Shark suing white folk because their great-grandfathers enslaved his great-grandfather? Do you see England continue to blame the United States for their Revolution three hundred years ago? Of course not!

THis is a mindless battle fought over...nothing. The Gentlemen and I have tried to make our mark here in IWF...but I'm not so foolish as to think I've won a battle I haven't. I am fully aware that the last few weeks have been setback after setback for the Gentlemen.

But that shall change this week. Tyson Rowle, Sir Ian Blackwing, and myself compete in a series of three extreme matches. Tyson in a first blood, Ian in a tables match, and myself fighting in a Falls Count Anywhere match.

Tyson shall bloody The Irishman up so badly, the walls of the arena will be painted red. Ian will finally achieve his goal of becoming the High Impact Champion...and us, Tim? You and I shall fight in a classic. We shall bring the war wherever the war shall take us. In the end, this will be a resounding victory for proud England.

This is far from over, Tim Patrick.

Hail Britannia.