Philip Joseph [vs.] Ashe Corvin

The Birth of The Champagne Superstar:My Journal

June 27,1987(Off Camera)

The day a Superstar was born. The son of a drug addicted mother and no father to be found. I lays there in the arms of my mother as Child Protective Services bursts through the door. They take me and explain to his mother that she is unfit and will not be able to keep her son. She breaks down as they walk out with me in hand. She chases after them begging and crying as they continue to walk down the hall. I am is crying as they walk out of the maternity ward carrying me in hand.

June 27,2005

Philips 18th birthday. I am sitting on my porch in the slums of Detroit. I have struggled the last 18 years bouncing from foster home to foster home before finally running away. I soon found himself running with the gangs and slinging dope to make ends meet. I have hustled the streets for 2 years now avoiding the law. Until this day my 18th birthday. I am standing on my usual corner making my normal deals with the usual customers when all of a sudden an unknown man approaches me and tries to make a deal with me. I am hesitant at first but decides to go with it. After the deal is complete the man walks around the corner as 4 cop cars rush the scene and arrest me.

July 1,2005

My sentencing. I have nothing left as I walk into the court room in my Bob Barker jump suit and shackles. I walk in and sit down and face the judge. I show no remorse for what I have down, why should I it was the only thing I had. I look at the judge and laugh as I hear all of the charges I am facing. The judge finally has enough and hands down a hefty sentence of 7 years. I just look at the judge and laugh "That's easy time." The judge orders me out of the court room as I continue to laugh.

March 16, 2007

The day that changed his my forever. I am hanging out in the yard of the prison working out when all of a sudden a man approaches me. A man they call "Boss". I didn't know it at the time but this man would soon change my life forever. This man soon took me under his way and started working out with me and teaching me a new way of life. This man would soon become my savior and new trainer. This man introduced to me the ways of wrestling and a new way of life. This man found potential in me and soon became the father figure I was missing my whole life.

August 29,2008

My meeting with the Parole board. Today is nerve wracking. I don't know how to feel. I could be set free today. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I went and met with "Boss" today to get some advice and he encouraged me to continue with my training. He gave me some contacts on the outside and insisted on meeting up with them as soon as I got out. Finally the time has come to meet with the board. They go over my record and notice that I have not had any issues while being incarcerated. They talk to me for about 30 minutes before finally deciding that they feel fit for early release. My emotions are running high at this point. I can't hold it back anymore and break down and cry thanking the board for their decision.

September 2,2008

The day I leave. So today is the day, the day I become a free man and start my life over. I spent most of the day with Boss and talked to him about my intentions of getting out and continuing my training. He suggested a few trainers and organizations to apply to. We talked and exchanged information so we could write and talk on the phone. I told him that one day I hope he could see me preform in a top organization. Finally a "CO" approaches and informs me its time to go. So I went and packed up the few things I had and headed out the gates a free man. The fresh air and the sense of freedom was overwhelming at first but I think I will make it.

October 12,2009

Just days before my pro debut. I got a letter today from the family of Boss. He had passed away a few days earlier. This was the worst news ever he was due to get out in just a few short months but was the victim of a vicious attack that left him for dead. He had huge plans he was going to be my manager, he saw the potential I had. He was the only person who ever believed in me. This has been a rough day. I feel like giving up but I can't let him down. I have to go out there and do this for him.

December 23,2012

Man today was rough I lost to Sean Libby and my Uprising Championship. I feel like I let Boss down. Libby took something of mine and I wanted to keep it not only for me but for Boss. I am going to go out there and get whats mine and make Boss proud of me again. Fuck I am the Champagne Superstar. IWF will soon meet the real Philip Joseph a relentless and fearless man.

Present Day(On Camera)

The scene opens up and we see Philip Joseph sitting in his locker room. He is stoked after winning his match last week against Tolly and Libby and rejoining The Empire.

Libby last week was only the beginning. I beat you and Tolly and I will soon put an end to you. That title you have you can keep that. I don't even want it I have bigger and better things to pursue. But I will avenge my loss one way or another. I will make sure that you don't carry that title for much longer. You see I now have the resources and power to make sure this happens Sean. The Empire will have my back as I take that title away from you and give it to someone who actually deserves it. You think your "Crazy" well Sean you have another thing coming. I will show you the definition of "Crazy" you just won't see it coming.

Philip laughs as he opens his Mac book Pro and checks the card for next week. He opens the email and smirks when he notices he is facing the #1 contender for Libby's title.

So I get to face the man who is next in line for The Uprising Championship Ashe Corvin. This should be an interesting match. See I am coming out there and Im going to walk out victorious but the real question is, Do I want to hurt him, or do I want to take it easy on him so he can take out Libby's title reign? Well the answer is, I am going to FUCK YOU UP!!!. You see Ashe I don't care that you are next in line for the Uprising Championship. I don't need you to take out Libby. I could pay anyone of these chumps in the back to do that and most of them would jump at the opportunity to make a few thousand dollars. No this week I am coming out to prove a point and that is that I am on a mission, a mission to the top of the IWF. And nothing against you but you are just the next stepping stone in my journey.

Philip lets out a sadistic laugh along with a grin.

You see Ashe I am an equal opportunity kind of guy. If someone comes at me with an offer that will better me I am going to jump at it. See I am once again a member of The Empire but I have betrayed them in the past. I have betrayed friends and foes. And I will do anything to get what I want. You are going to be the first victim of a new and rejuvenated Philip Joseph. I am going into this match relentless and with nothing to lose. I am coming out to prove to you and the rest of IWF I am a force to be reckoned with. I will do anything to make sure I walk out victorious and there is nothing you or anyone in the IWF can do to stop me.

Philip grabs his bags and heads for the parking lot. He stops and smiles at the camera.

Ashe just be prepared for the fight of a life time. You wont even know what hit you when I am done. You know why? Because I am The Champagne Superstar, The King of Betrayal and I am The Past Present and Future and your just a stepping stone. You better bring your A game because come Battle Grounds its going down.

Philip climbs into his limo as the scene fades to black.

Darkness falls over the Empire; Chapter One

“I have travelled somewhat extensively around the world. This story chronicles my august 2000 first trip to England, a country I hated upon my first day, and eventually grew to want to move there. That, of course, is a story for another time. This story, is a little more fleshed out. A few more details are revealed, and, being I know what was up with Heather now, I wrapped up the story properly. Cheers...”

~~~

Day One

I arrived in England, greeted by then dark eden co-vocalist, Heather Rouge, who had gotten us a room at a crappy little hostel in Brixton hills, where I will spend the next few days surrounded by an incredible assortment of ugly people (I mean one guy looked like Mr. bean, for crissakes!) and counting the days without toilet paper. So, not really being able to do anything there, we head out to Piccadilly Circus.

Of course, this being night, the subway, called "the underground," over there, does not run after midnight. So, we have to take a rare night bus, which requires us to wait at the bus stop for about a half an hour or so.

Finally, the bus pulls up, but the front of it is not in front of the bus stop, the middle is, and the middle door opened. Hmmmmm...one would assume that means we enter by the middle, right? Well, when we did, the bus driver proceeded to yell at us. I mean, he doesn't open at the front of the stop, as the buses do where we're from, so I think what we did was a simple tourist mistake. That was still no excuse for him to yell. So, thinking this was rude of him, I proceeded to ask him a question.

"Excuse me, sir? Do you speak German?"

"No."

"Do you know why you don't speak German? It’s because my grandfather came here and saved your grandfather's ass in World War II!"

"Get the fuck off my bus before I kill you!"

looking back, we probably didn't have enough to pay it, anyway...

So, deciding the best course of action might be to hitchhike, we made several tries until this one, supposedly nice man pulls up and dropped us off in Piccadilly...only to start demanding that Heather pay him, obviously unaware of the fact that people who can afford cab services DO NOT HAVE TO HITCHHIKE! So, after an unpleasant exchange, we proceeded into the square...which is actually, a lot like Times Square, with a few key differences... The beggars are a lot more persistent...if you encounter one, ignore him, or you will eventually have to either give him money or threaten him with bodily harm to get rid of him

They still have a red light district...where you won't go three feet without being offered pills or a "nice lady." at least, that's what the elephant pimp, a man obviously suffering from the same deformity as the elephant man, told me he could give me

There is a great deal of bad reggae...which I suppose is better than having black Israelites

So, with these differences in mind, I wandered around the square, while Heather sold her really cool jewelry. Heather had this amazing talent for finding common construction junk. Screws, bolts, wires, for example, and making really nice looking jewelry out of them. It’s one of the things I miss the most about her.

Anyway, after a few hours of this, we decided to leave. oh, and I should mention, because it's vital to the plot later on, that I saw the first person I have ever seen in my life bluff during a fight that he had a knife. These two guys were fighting and one reached into his back pocket, as if to pull out a knife. But the other guy called his bluff and...Well, he didn't have one! This seems to me to be extremely poor strategy, not to mention ultra dangerous, as claiming you have a knife when you don't, will probably make the other party just want to kick your ass more.

So, anyway, we're heading back to the hostel in our crappy neighborhood, which is, by the way, unknown to me until a few days in, known as the "Harlem of London." this would, of course, have made me suggest we find a better place to stay, as I don't go to the Harlem of America. I have no urge to go to another country's. in fact, from what people told me, Brixton hills was the site of quite a few ugly riots over the years...but I digress...anyway, we're walking home when this short little soccer-hooligan-looking Vinnie Jones type comes up to us and starts telling us this sob story about how he just got out of prison and wants to go home, blah blah blah. Apparently, some man had molested his son and he had spent time in jail for assaulting him. This should have been my first hint to quickly end the conversation.

Now, I must admit Heather was smarter than I was here, as she walked ahead, ignoring him. me, used to mocking the beggars of Manhattan, decided to listen to his story, finally telling him we didn't have enough money to give him, figuring that maybe, once he saw we didn't have money, he would leave us. well, at this point, he starts trying to offer me change for a five pound note, saying he only wants a pound (the obvious math of this situation never occurred to him...as if he has three and a half pounds to give me, why does he only need one pound from me?) so, anyway, the bath math approach not working, he then turns to me and says, "I want you to stop fucking lying to me. I know you have money and I have a knife and I’m going to stab you in the fucking throat and give it to your girlfriend if you don't give me your fucking money."

"Listen, buddy...I’m from Los Angeles, okay?"

"I don't care where the fuck you're from!"

"well, you should, because I meet a lot more intimid..."

at this point, seeing an opportunity with there being a two foot high fence on my left, he checked me, knocking me down, telling me, "don't you even fucking try to get up!"

Now, at this point, I think that most sane people who value their safety are taught to just stop fighting and give their mugger whatever he wants. You are supposed, in this situation, to just remain calm and try to get out of the situation with your life. After all, your money is not as important as your life. That’s, at least, what most sane people believe.

being I’ve often said there's nothing safe nor sane about me, I reached forward, clawing his face with my nails, and somehow grabbing his bag in the process, standing fully up, ready to kick this fuck's ass. He began to run off, suddenly realizing I’ve still got his bag.

He comes back towards me, yelling, "Don’t you fucking steal my bag!" (Of course, because it's rude to mug your would-be mugger) I threw the bag back to him and tell him to get the fuck lost. He started pretending he's dangerous again and claiming he's still got a knife. Well, apparently, he didn't...and Heather did. So, realizing that he had just pissed us off and we were actually armed, our brave little mugger ran with his tail between his legs, no doubt to go on to fame and fortune as one of the cast of lock, stock, and two smoking barrels. This, of course, is the thanks we get for saving him from speaking German. I tell you...

so, anyway, adrenaline pumping, the highlight of my day having just happened, I wished I could fuck someone, but Heather and I were never really like that with each other, preferring to stay professional in our relationship. Oh well...poor me, 'eh?

Day Two

So, fresh from our attempted assault, I decided that I had made a potential fatal error the previous night by not carrying my normally constant umbrella with me, so I do so as we head out to Camden town. I am trained to use a katana, one of the few things I still remember from my days at the Ronin dojo. Of course, one can't just walk the streets of a foreign country (or Los Angeles, for that matter) brandishing a samurai sword, so I’ve learned to apply those skills to my umbrella, whenever I have a particularly long one. Umbrellas, while not able to cut like a sword would, make excellent blunt objects.

Anyway, for those of you who have never been to London, Camden is actually a lot like Baldwin, long island, near the long island rail road, only with cooler shops. But it's basically the same, a strip mall suburban style, even down to the little lake/river area with a bridge over it. I saw a couple cool people, one of which, especially, was gorgeous, with her blue-black hair, pale skin, and slayer patch on the back of her jacket, but mistakenly didn't think to talk to them until they had already passed too far (it should be noted that later on, I met and became friends with that particular beautiful girl, but we'll get to that). So, upset that I haven't found any one cool to play with (Heather having already made friends); we go back to Piccadilly, which thankfully is free of the bad reggae now, but still not really populated by anyone worthwhile. But, Heather and I, after checking out the local S&M shops, stopped by a record store, where Heather picked up a bunch of flyers for the next night. Meanwhile, manic depressive little old me wasn't haven't a good time, so I start to sulk a bit. we go went to the hostel and I go to sleep from depression as Heather goes to play with one of her new British friends (which I didn't really have a problem with, as we're friends and band mates, but not involved in a way where I’d feel jealous). so, I wake up, bored out of my skull, and now having grown to hate London (I was actually looking forward to the next time I’d be in Los Angeles, for crissakes!), I grew tired of waiting to talk to nag her about how miserable I was, and ventured out to explore the bad neighborhood we were staying in.

So, I’m not out two minutes, when I see some marginally pretty girl standing on a street corner, not dressed in any special way, who smiles at me. Now, being near-sighted and having forgotten my contacts in the states, if she flashed a sign that said, "I'm a Hooker" I was unaware, so I just assumed she was a girl who was attracted to me. As I said, she really wasn't that much to look at, but when I am depressed, my standards tend to drop a tad.

so, I went over to her, she said hello and started walking me down the street, asking me about who I am, where I’m from, where I’m staying, that kinda crap. So, we stop in front of a house and I started to get the she's a prostitute feeling as she started to tell me she's "very good!"

Well, this is going to be a problem, I thought, realizing that bored and depressed as I am, I’d rather avoid sexually transmitted diseases. She took me to the very dark backyard of the house and she asked for money. I asked how much. She said twenty pounds. Okay, I think, if I just tell her I don't have that much, I can get out of this.

"Uh, I’m sorry, I only have...uh, eight pounds." (Goddamn, I’m slick; she's gonna say then fuck off, right?)

"Okay, eight pounds it is!" (wrong)

"Uh, okay...let me go look in the light at how much money I have, as I can't read British money really well, yet" (good, I can say I changed my mind while counting out in the middle of the street!)

"I have a light for you." (she lights her cigarette lighter for me...uh, how considerate...)

So, I started counting my money, I think a five pound note and some pence, before I realize there's only one way out of this, so I said I changed my mind, I don't want to do anything. She gets all pissed, quickly pocketing the five and yelling for her pimp. okay, well, I think I should take the loss and leave, as I think her pimp may actually be the only armed person in all of England...unless, he's a really substandard pimp. So, with her yelling, "who the fuck do you think I am?" (Uh, a prostitute that just took five pounds without exchanging any goods nor services for the money, maybe?) I walked away from her, her pimp telling me to "fucking bugger off!" to which I respond, "keep the five, it's not like your money means anything to me anyway!"

So, when I ran into Heather about thirty seconds later, and she asked what I’ve been doing, I respond, "oh, just soliciting a prostitute and noticing that I’ve degenerated from underwhelmed to loathing England!"

Day Three

Well, at this point, things were a little tense between Heather and I as I was just not having a good time and she was and I’m a tad upset about that. However, she took the flyers and one of them, for a place called electric ballroom sounded actually quite interesting. So, we go that night, along with this lecherous Italian guy from our hostel who was trying desperately to get into Heather's pants (picture Antonio from wings but ten years younger).

Upon seeing well-dressed Goth people there, I started to think this place could be cool. I was dressed, actually quite like I was on freak day 2k that night, except I had fishnet instead of latex and no corset and with my cross, but otherwise pretty identically. So, upon entering to the tones of nine inch nails, playing "Starfuckers Inc.," I found the place to be cooler than any of the clubs I had frequented in Los Angeles. From the fact that people were just better dressed, to the huge Roseland-size dance floor, to the various girls I met that night, I loved it. the club was three floors high (the third floor Heather told me about, as I never actually found it myself), the main one playing Goth/industrial stuff, the second one heavier music (which I didn't actually venture into, as I saw a Fred Durst-look alike go in there, so I felt it was probably best to avoid), and the third one doing techno. There was enough separation so that the different crowds didn't have to mix with each other too much and the girls from all three were very attractive.

And speaking of girls, first, there was Natasha, who besides being very cute was great dancer, and a great dresser, is also was drummer, and a very cute one, at that, wearing a beautiful corset, her tongue freshly pierced. When I had thought of moving to England and reforming dark eden there, Natasha was our first choice as drummer. but we shant dwell on that...

Anyway, Natasha left early and I was still there, so...there was Heidi (pronounced HAY-dee. if you pronounce it HI-dee, she'll kill you), who I first met while playing the eye-contact game (you know what I’m talking about, looking at various people and making eye contact with them all and seeing who meets your gaze). well, she was fooling around with some ponce in a slave collar when our eyes met. now, I thought this was strange, considering they seemed to be together at the time. so, I went about my business, giving her another glance, she returning my gaze again, but still appearing to be with him. well, I thought, he can't be very good if she's paying that much attention to me. so I smiled and so did she. finally, she stood up and waved at me, walking towards the stairs. I walked over to them too and we exchanged some pleasantries, she and I kissing after a few moments, the poncey guy looking all dejected and pissy. well, he soon disappeared and I made my second friend in London.

She was very cool, very attractive Scorpio, which is cool, so there wasn't any of that relationship jealousy bullshit that pops up between other signs. I respected that she went for what she wanted and didn't get all upset if someone else does too. too bad for the little boy who couldn't take it. his loss. anyway, she and I got along amazingly well and let's just say, when she and I parted as the club was closing, we agreed to meet the next day at the Devonshire arms, and then go to this club called the Slimelight.

Day Four

Well, I’m not going to go into too many details as they're personal friendship stuff between me, Heather, Heidi, and a few other characters (Heidi’s friend Elaine...HAHA...just kidding...Louise...she hates being called Elaine and the guy Heather had met at electric ballroom). but I’ll say that Slimelight was awesome. I was dressed very nicely (a long black skirt, waist chain, feathered-fishnet shirt that showed off my stomach, the little velvet jacket Eryka gave me). I felt a little bad because Heidi didn't want to really go, and was talked into it by this asshole associate (I’m not going to call someone like him her friend) named James and I learned a couple things about being sexual while wearing a skirt: erections are VERY visible when you're wearing a skirt, especially if your chain slips from your hips

Second, if you hike your skirt up a little to make yourself more able to move, if you get really into it, no matter how much you try to cover it, eventually, your ass will be exposed to people sitting on the couches on the other side of the room (oh, and you probably guessed that I don't wear anything under skirts...it's part of my Scottish heritage, you know)

But, I had fun with a couple other people I met and made sure Heidi was alright throughout the course of the evening. I mostly spent my time there, when I wasn't with Heidi, fooling around with a girl I met from northern England, whose name escapes me, really, as we never got in touch with each other afterwards. we had a bit of fun in the slime light’s bathroom, and then parted ways; the number she gave me not working. maybe she had just been looking for a one night thing. maybe she had actually been too drunk to write the right number for me (she was pretty sloshed by the end of the night), but she and I had our fun and then it was over. it was funny, though, because I was trying to play the gentleman upon first meeting her. she had asked me to help her open a bottle of wine, and I showed off my MacGyver-like talent for using a pen and my nails to pop the cork. we drank a bit, and then finally, after noticing I had not touched her at all, she just flatly asked me, "are you gay?"

"no...in fact, if I were a little drunker, I don't think I’d be able to control myself with you."

"do you have to be drunk to do that?"

"oh, not at all..." and you can guess what happened from there.

Anyway, without giving too many details, let's just say, the night was a good one for me.

Day Five

Well, as I recovered from the 7:30AM closing time of the Slimelight and Heather got in from a rave in the middle of nowhere she had gone to; we slept until very late, realizing that we were not able to afford the hostel anymore. now, Heather had a place to stay if she needed, but since Heidi had yet to move into her apartment until the beginning of September, and I was rapidly running out of money, Heather and I packed up, but not before the clerk informed me I owed him money.

So, around 3:30AM, after saying goodbye to Heather, I went down to the clerk's office to pay and then leave, only to find it empty. I even went so far as to search for someone who worked there to pay, but no one was around, so I woke up Heather, told her I was leaving without paying and that they might give her shit about it, so she should come with me. she assured me that since she could pay for her room, everything'd be alright. so, I left. and managed to be out of the country by noon.

Of course, the next morning, the clerk asked Heather where I had disappeared to, she playing it like she had no idea I had even left. meanwhile, I was back in Los Angeles, nursing that horrible cold I get every time I return from Europe.

For a while, Heather and I lost touch and I got very worried, but I heard from her and I went back to England, this time, staying with Heidi, hanging with Emma (that girl with the blue-black hair I first saw in Camden), and deciding to form a band with Natasha...

All that, however, was not to be, and is a story I will save for another time...

~~~

Calling my time in IWF a roller coaster would be an understatement. I started off in a rough patch, why? Because I underestimated fools luck. Eric Steel got two wins over me. Oh well, they do say even the sun shines on a dogs ass from time to time. But then it came down to it, when all the chips were on the table. When the pressure and the stakes were at the peak, who came out on top. That's right, The King of Darkness showed exactly what he is made of. Sure, Eric got the best of me ONCE, and got insanely lucky in the Fatal Four Way match we had. But I got the win when it counted. When if fucking mattered Eric Steel choked like the bitch he is.

Then, the following week I once again underestimated my opponent. Steel Angel, you got a win on me. Congratulations. But don't think for one fucking second that I am done with you. After I am done taking out that sad excuse for a group called the Empire with these others then I will turn my sights on you.

Now, I know you are all wondering why on earth would I team up with Gordon, Hawkins, and Michaels? Simple you weak minded idiots. Why not join a group of self righteous ass holes to better myself? Yes I am admitting, before we get anywhere near to our goal that I am using them. If they couldn't tell that before, then guess what? Fuck them. Not my fault they are that narrow minded. I know for a fact Gordon knows that, otherwise he wouldn't have extended the olive branch, as it were. And I figured, hell, why not remove this joke from IWF while I further my own career here?

Speaking of jokes, it looks like I get to face off against the newest old member of the Empire. Philip Joseph. The man who lost the that fucking joke Sean Libby. Now, I'm gonna digress here a moment and address Sean. I have one thing, and one thing only to say to you at this time. Enjoy that belt while you have it, cause once I can cash in on my match, you will be one championship belt and a few pints of blood lighter for your effort.

Now, back to Joseph. Do you honestly think that you frighten me? Honestly? Come on now son, get a fucking grip. You think that I am gonna be scared of a little back stabbing fuck tard like you? Son, you are just the next in the line of band wagon jumpers. Everyone thinks that being some back stabber is some god awful thing. Well, I hate to burst your bubble but I was stabbing people in the back while you were getting 'stabbed in the back' when you were most likely in prison.

But then again, you are the type of person that would need a huge group to back you. You are the lowest of the low Philip. You are the part of our species that needs to be weeded out. I know you have heard the term survival of the fittest, right? Well, you see Philip that little saying applies to us. Where as the fittest, myself, will survive, win. You can sit back there in your group locker room, salivating over which member of the Empire you get to blow next, and imagine that you actually inspire fear in someone. But come Battle Grounds you will see why you are so fucking out of your league.

If you lost to that disgrace of a human being, Sean Libby, what makes you think you can beat me? I know you think your better than me Philip, but I'll let you in on a little secret, the best part of you ran down your mother's leg twenty five years ago. Hell your mom should have swallowed you or let your dad bust into a tube sock. When I whip your ass I'll be doing the world a favor by ridding it of yet another useless fuck.

You want to tell me to be prepared for the fight of a life time? Why? You gonna bring Axle down to the ring with you? I mean, he is the only one in the entire Empire that could give me that kind of challenge. Because you know damn well that you couldn't beat me on my worst day. You stand about a snow ball's chance in hell of winning this match. The only one that is gonna be used as a stepping stone at Battle Grounds is you, boy. You shall be the first in my long, LONG line of ass whuppins I deliver to the Empire.

I see you like to call yourself the King of Betrayal. Well, I guess that is gonna make our match a 'royal' match. Even though you are far from being a King. Unlike myself, The King of Darkness. I have seen and done things that you can't even fathom in your worst nightmares. But don't worry, Philip, you will get a small glimpse of that at Battle Grounds.

I will make you beg me to end your suffering, Philip. I will make you call me god before it is over. And you will learn that I am a loving and kind god. All you have to do is worship me. Say it with me, Philip...

In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritūs Sancti.