Tim Patrick [vs] Philip Joseph

~~~~The Following RP contains a storyline containing references to child abuse (sexual and physical), kidnapping, and murder. Although fictional, if any of this is a “trigger” you have been warned~~~~

For more info on this storyline, you can visit my RP from a few weeks ago here:
[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]

Monday, March 11, 2013
Miami, Florida
American Airlines Arena
11:05 PM
~~ON CAMERA~~

Battle Grounds 69 has just gone off the air. Backstage, Tim Patrick has been pacing around and packing his bags. He defeated Damien Drake, but was then assaulted by Eric Steel. IWF.com has sent a camera crew to the locker room to get a word from Tim Patrick.

IWF.com cameraman:
Tim, do you have anything to say about what happened tonight?

Tim Patrick walks up to the camera



Tim Patrick:
I did exactly what I said I was going to do. I took out Damien Drake, next week I'm taking out Phillip Joseph. Then, sooner or later, I'll take out Eric Steel. I said you'd have to kill me to stop me, and I'm still standing! I got somebody looking out for me and I'll be looking out for him. We won't be stopped until you're little group has been destroyed. That's a promise. Now if you excuse me, I have some business to take care of.

Tim pushes the cameraman out of the way and walks down the hall.

~~The Scene Fades~~



Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Bloomsbury, NJ
5:45 AM
Outside of Mr. Smith's house
~~OFF CAMERA~~

Tim Patrick has just come off of a tough night and hasn't slept. The moment Battle Grounds went off the air, he chartered a jet to Newark Airport. After renting a car, he drove to Northwest New Jersey and the scene opens with him sitting in the car, looking dead-eyed at a house.

It's not just any house, it's the lifelong home of a man named Mr. Smith. In case you forgot, Mr. Smith was a gym teacher at the local elementary school, and is the man who sexually abused a very young Tim Patrick. Tim never recovered mentally. From the moment it happened, his confidence was shattered. He was a social outcast with classmates, never had any luck with relationships, has been confused about his sexuality, has major issues with trusting others, and his dedicated his life to violence. To him, fighting will somehow fight off the demons of his childhood. From fighting in illegal backyard/underground wrestling/fighting promotions as a teenager, to traveling to Northern Ireland and joining IRA factions and fighting members of the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF), British Army and Northern Ireland's police, to joining No Limit Wrestling Federation and rising to Hardcore Wrestling legend status in IWF...Tim Patrick has lived a violent life. And he's been proud of it and has no shame in his lifestyle.

He also has a history of killing. It's something he has never admitted to publicly, be as a member of the IRA he has taken lives. It's one of the main reasons why he isn't allowed in the United Kingdom. Although he has never been convicted (due to total lack of evidence), it's something that is known throughout the UK. The only reason why he has never been convicted is because he is good at cleaning up after himself. Most of the people he has “taken out” have never been found. Having full confidence in his ability to dispose of bodies, Tim believes that it's time to kill Mr. Smith.

Tim Patrick's Inner Thoughts as he watches the house from the car:
Alright, Paddy...it's go time. This monster has been ruining you since you were 8 years old. You thought there was a chance that you might put it all behind you, then Corey Casey brought him out on Battle Grounds a year ago. He's still alive. He's not in prison. God knows how many other children he has permanently damaged. He lives in a nice home and nobody bothers him and due to some loophole, he's not even on a sex offender watch-list. It's time to kill him. Now!

Tim opens the car door, gets out and slowly closes it so that it doesn't make any noise. He slowly makes his way to the side of the home, looking in every window. The television is flicking but there is no other sign of life in the house. The lights are on and the house is fully furnished, but there is nobody in any of the rooms downstairs. Tim continues to walk around until he reaches the back door. He turns the knob, it's unlocked, opens it and walks into Mr. Smith's kitchen.

Tim wanders around the kitchen, through the living room, through the dinning room with no sign of Mr. Smith. He pauses at the bottom of the staircase that leads to the upper floor. Cautiously, he makes his way up the steps and into the bedroom. Still, no sign of Mr. Smith. He looks in the upstairs bathroom and searches for an attic door and can't find one. Mr. Smith doesn't seem to be home.

Tim walks down the steps and appears as if he's ready to leave as he walks toward the back door until he hears a noise. It's a rumbling sound coming from the basement. Tim reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a switchblade and flicks it open. A sick grin comes across his face and he opens the basement door and in an excited fashion, runs down the steps to meet the man he wants to kill. To his surprise, there is nobody there. His grin immediately turns into a look of shock, horror, and rage combined as he notices the pictures on his basement wall. Covering the wall are pictures of Tim Patrick, from when he was a small child to modern day professional wrestler Tim Patrick. Many of the photographs from Tim's childhood are too graphic and gruesome to describe. Tim flies into a fit of crazed rage, smashing each picture with his fist, shattering the glass of each frame and cutting his hand open badly. About to fall to his knees in tears, a loud electronic buzzer sound goes off. Startled, Tim jumps a foot in the air and spins around, ready to attack. Immediately he realized the sound he heard was the clothes dryer finishing. Mentally a wreck, he crawls over the the machine and opens it. He pulls out something that causes him to break into tears and start screaming unintelligible words, he pulls out a pair of underwear. Children's underwear. On the back, the initials “TP”, and a bloodstain underneath. It was his. It belonged to Tim Patrick. Tim falls to the floor from his knees, continuing to scream, clutching his bloodstained clothing from childhood.

The scene stays like this for several minutes. Tim laying in a fetal position, screaming. After thirty minutes, he contains his emotions enough to stop the tears and sits up. He notices a table on the other end of the room and sees a familiar logo on a booklet on top of the table. Patrick stands and walks over. A look of stunned confusion comes across his face. The book's cover features a red fist, sourrounded by the words “UVF: For God and Ulster”. It was the manual for combat that's given to each member of the Ulster Volunteer Force. What could this mean? Why is this here? Tim is at loss for words and stands there looking down on it, with a blank face. After the night he's had, he looks drained.

Tim's cell phone begins to ring. He reaches into his pocket, pulls the phone out and answers in a low voice.

Tim Patrick:
Who is it?

Ian McFadden:
Hello, friend. (Ian begins to laugh in a sick/creepy way). Having fun?

Tim Patrick:
Would you care to explain all of this? What the hell is this? Have you been here? How do you know that I'm here?

Ian McFadden:
Look up, ya stupid Mick.

Tim looks up to see a single camera on the ceiling in the far corner of the room.

Tim Patrick:
I'm impressed, Ian. You're really a sick fuck, aren't you?

Ian McFadden:
A very rich and crafty sick fuck. And yes, I've been there. Bloomsbury is a nice little town. It would have been a nice place to grow up in if you didn't have to deal with constant terror and anguish. The man who causes you so much pain has become a very good friend of mine over the last few weeks. Sure, he's an evil child predator, but we have a common interest in controlling and ruining your life. Power feels good, doesn't it? Hell, why am I asking you? You've never had power or control over anything in your life. I had a feeling you would come to his home and try and harm him. But if you killed him, it would take away a great deal of my fun, wouldn't it?

Tim Patrick:
So here we are again. You're messing with me and you're not giving me the answer I want. What's the end game? How does this end? Where the fuck are you?

Ian McFadden:
(Laughing) Figure it out. You're a smart man. I'll let you talk to my new found friend. Maybe he'll tell you.

Mr. Smith:
Hello, my special little guy.

Tim's facial expression turns sour. He looks ill.

Tim Patrick:
You.....you.....

Mr. Smith:
Ah, you're at a loss for words again. You never really said much to me. You must just stood there, or laid there....crying. Much like you were earlier tonight. I had a lot of pleasure watching you through the camera tonight. You really haven't changed much. Neither have I.

Tim Patrick:
I.......I..........

Mr. Smith:
I want you to know that you have always been special to me. I've never been interested in anybody else. You've always been my special little guy. That may change though. I have another little buddy that Ian found for me. That Ian, he's a swell guy. We'd make a great tag-team (laughing). Isn't that what you do now? Wrestle? Funny, I remember you watching it on TV as a kiddo.

Tim Patrick:
(In a much more composed and calm voice) What do you mean you have another little buddy?

Laughing is heard on the other end of the phone. Mr. Smith passes the phone to Ian.

Ian McFadden:
Remember that child I held hostage in your apartment building? We have him. You might want to get down here.

Tim hears a click and a dial-tone. Ian has hung up.

Frustrated but determined, Tim runs up the steps and out the door and to his rental car. He opens the door, sits down, starts the car and speeds off.


2 Hours Later
South Philadelphia, PA
Ritner Street
Tim Patrick's Apartment Building
~~STILL OFF CAMERA~~


After being stuck in morning rush hour traffic, Tim finally has arrived in-front of his building. The scene opens with Tim opening the front door of the building and running up the stair-case. He reaches the floor directly below his own apartment and the door to the apartment where the little boy lives. The door isn't even shut. It's cracked opened about four inches. With his foot, Tim pushes the door open and walks in. The very first thing he notices is a pool of blood on the floor of the hallway that leads into the kitchen. Carefully, Tim avoids stepping in the blood for follows the trail to find the child's drug addicted mother laying dead on the floor on her back with an clear stab wound to her throat. Not phased by the sickening sight on the floor, Tim starts searching each room for the little boy. He comes across a letter from the City of Philadelphia and Child Services and sees that the city took this woman's baby earlier in the week due to her addiction. Still, there is no sign of the little boy or Ian or Mr. Smith. Finally, he opens the door to what appears to be the little boy's bedroom and finds a note on the bed. He picks it up and reads it.

Timmy boy, we'll contact you next week. Don't try anything stupid. We won't harm him...yet.

-Ian and Your Favorite Gym Teacher

Tim, defeated, puts the note in his pocket and slowly walks upstairs to his own apartment. He opens the door, walks in and sits in his dark kitchen.

He pulls out a cigarette and lights it. After one drag, he places his hand over his forehead and softly begins to sing.


“Oh mama, Oh mama comfort me. I know these awful things have got to be. But when the war for freedom has been won, I promise you I'll put away my gun...”



~~The Scene Fades~~

Sunday, March 17, 2013
A back-ally somewhere in St. Louis
9:30 PM
~~ON CAMERA~~

It's the night before Battle Grounds 70. It also happens to be St. Patrick's Day. Tim Patrick has been in St. Louis all weekend drinking, mostly alone in his hotel room. He trashed his hotel room last night and was kicked out and has been wandering around the city, drinking. He's drunk, plain and simple. An IWF camera crew has caught up with him.



Tim Patrick:
So, Happy St. Patrick's day I guess. All around America there are bullshit cartoons of leprechauns and shamrocks and rainbows. Adults are saying things like “Top of the morning to ya” or bullshit sayings like “The luck of the Irish”. None of it is real life. There are no leprechauns and magical rainbows in real life. All night I've been thinking about real life. All the men and women who fought and died for causes in Ireland. The men and women who remain locked up over there without charge or are held on secret evidence who have been blackballed by the community because they don't agree with the nonsense peace agreement. There are no magical leprechauns to save them, are there?

Just like there are no leprechauns to save Irish prisoners, there are no leprechauns to save whats left of the Empire. Myself and Jacob Figgins have let it be known to the wrestling world that their existence will not be tolerated. They will be met with force every time they step into a wrestling venue.

I told Damien Drake that he was hanging out with the wrong crowd. He didn't listen. Last week, I made quick work of him. Tomorrow night, Figgins will do the same. Out of the goodness of that madman's heart, he is putting the title on the line against Drake. Maybe he'll show Drake that he doesn't need the likes of Eric Steel and Phillip Joseph to be a major player in this industry. Or maybe he'll just slay him in the middle of the ring.

People have been asking me in the street tonight what my relationship is with Figgins. It's simple. I barely know him. I'm not sure if I even trust him because of that. We don't really socialize outside of arenas and I don't even know much about his back-story or where he comes from. We had a chat backstage one night and we both had the same thoughts about where this company was going. With the Empire running things the way they were, it was clearly going down the toilet. That all stopped the moment an alliance was formed to fight them. Figgins and I will work as a guerrilla army of two. We'll come out of nowhere, strike, and will be gone before anybody knows what happened. It's not how I prefer to fight my battles, but the Empire has strength in numbers...so we really don't have a choice, do we? I can assure you that this group of men as a unit is on their last legs. Their time is up, and our time has come.

Several weeks ago, a woman here who has been very sweet to me, Blyss Lockhart, and a man who I have always respected, Chuck Matthews, was brutally attacked in an assault led by Phillip Joseph. There are two things that really set me off. One is hurting children. Two is hurting women if you're a man. The very first fight I was ever involved in at my old high school was because this upperclassman guy beat up his girlfriend in the hallway. I shattered his face within seconds. I'll do the same to Phillip Joseph at Battle Grounds.

Phillip, you have no idea what you're in for. Our match is a There Will Be Blood Match. It's extremely fucked up. When I had the same match with Storming Raven at Bloody Sunday 2, IWF got letters and phone calls from angry parents because they thought the match was too sickening for their children who watched it on Pay Per View. The government of France where the match took place complained to IWF about the violence. The rules are simple. Submissions count anywhere in St. Louis. But before I can get make you tap out, you have to bleed first. You're going to be in a lot of pain, Phil. I'm going to victimize you and make you feel like how you made Blyss feel. It's not going to be fun for you, but it will be for me.

After your Empire bitches attacked me last week, you declared yourself the number one contender for the world title at the next PPV. Well, when I bust you open and make you tap out at Battle Grounds....what does that make me?



My day has arrived.


~~The Scene Fades~~

The scene opens up and we see Philip Joseph sitting in his locker room with his TV on watching clips of the last couple Battlegrounds. He pauses it for a second.

Some people have questioned where my loyalties lay. Well you want to know where my loyalties lay, they lay right here in this very room. Thats right its just ME.

Philip un pauses the TV and we see a clip from Battle Grounds 68.

Johnny – Oh boy, Remington is wasting no time coming out to talk tonight

Matt – He lost his title last week at Nowhere to Run, you can bet her has a few things to say

Erik Reigns turns around and sees Alexander Remington walking out from backstage, looking at him. Alexander Remington waves goodbye to Erik Reigns, who looks on angrily before walking backstage. Alexander Remington continues to walk down to the ramp and climbs into the ring, motioning for a microphone

Johnny – Indeed it looks like he does

A cameraman tosses Alexander Remington a microphone, but before he can say anything, he is interrupted as Enemy by Fozzy begins to play over the loudspeakers.

Matt – What the hell is Philip doing here?

Philip Joseph appears at the top of the entrance ramp, grinning at Alexander Remington, who stares towards the top of the ramp. As Philip Joseph is walking down the ramp, Damien Drake and Eric Steel slide into the ring behind Alexander Remington. Eric Steel runs towards Alexander Remington and smashes a steel pipe into the back of his skull.

Johnny – Steel pipe to the back of the head!

Matt – Remington’s been ambushed by members of the Empire!

Damien Drake begins to smash his own pipe into the spine of Alexander Remington, while Philip Joseph climbs into the ring. Damien Drake lifts up Alexander Remington and holds him for Eric Steel, who grabs him and quickly delivers a jumping cutter on Alexander Remington

Johnny – Steel Cutter!

Matt – What is going on?!

Philip Joseph climbs up onto the top turnbuckle as Damien Drake lifts Alexander Remington onto his shoulders. Damien Drake walks near the turnbuckle that Philip Joseph is on, before delivering a huge burning hammer on Alexander Remington

Johnny – Burning Hammer by Damien Drake!

Matt – I AM NO LESS CONFUSED!

Philip Joseph motions to the crowd, who aren’t sure whether to cheer or boo what’s going on. Eric Steel slides back into the ring and places a steel chair right over the face of Alexander Remington. Philip Joseph jumps off and delivers a phoenix splash onto the chair over Alexander Remington’s head.

Johnny – These guys might have literally just killed Alexander Remington here tonight

Matt – I still don’t know why. But look at all the blood around Remington’s face

The three men stand up and look at the broken body of Alexander Remington, who is motionless in the ring. Referees and medical staff spring down to the ring, as the three men quickly slide out and exit into the stands. Battlegrounds fades to commercial with the seemingly lifeless body of Alexander Remington being carried onto a stretcher.

Philip pauses the TV and just laughs.

Alexander Remington, I am not sorry for what we did to you. The fact of the matter is we are all sick of following in your shadow. We were all told we were equal when we joined The Empire, but it seemed that Corey had a hard on for you. And we just couldn't take it anymore thats why we had to send you and Corey a message.

Philip hits fast forward on his TV and hits play when he gets to the scene he wants.

Corey Casey
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?

Corey paces back and forth in the Empire locker room as Philip Joseph, Eric Steel, and Damien Drake stand in a line, their hands behind their back.

Corey Casey
I don't know if you three idiots have forgotten, but there is a hierarchy in place. Remington is the Empire's champion, Tiffani is her queen, and you three-

Philip Joseph
Are the court jesters?

Corey glares at Phil. He opens his mouth to speak, but Phil cuts him off.

Philip Joseph
I have been taking shit from you since the day I entered the Empire. All three of us have. You didn't bring us in to help further our careers, you brought us in to get a numbers advantage.

He steps forward, staring Corey eye to eye.

Philip Joseph
We've had enough of your incompetent management, Corey Casey...we're done playing you games. Done jumping through hoops for you. Done being your little sheep.

Corey smirks.

Corey Casey
I take this as your official resignation, then?

Phil chuckles.

Philip Joseph
Oh...we're not leaving.

He steps forward, staring down his nose at Corey. Behind him, Eric and Damien cross their arms, smirking at Corey.

Philip Joseph
We're taking over.

Eric and Damien step forward, grabbing Corey by his arms. Corey thrashes about, trying to break free.

Corey Casey
I OWN YOU! THIS IS MY EMPIRE!

Phil grabs him by the face, pulling him close.

Philip Joseph
Then long live the King.

Damien and Eric drag him from the room, throwing him out into the hallway before slamming the door behind them. The show cuts to commercial.

Philip hits pause again as he lets out a slight chuckle.

Corey,Corey,Corey did you honestly think we were going to let you treat us like shit? Hell no. You are nothing but a power hungry man. You didn't bring us in to help us out. You brought us in to help out you and Remington hold on to that title. Well guess what Corey you plan failed miserably. You see Corey this is my Empire now. You have fun sitting on the sidelines and I hope you realize what you could have had, if you had only given us a chance.

Philip hits stop on his DVR and brings up Battle Grounds 69. He fast forwards to a scene and hits play.

Tim Patrick stands up and turns around walking towards the chair. Suddenly Philip Joseph hops over the crowd barrier and runs at Tim Patrick from behind. Philip Joseph pushes Tim Patrick as hard as he can, and Tim Patrick smashes facefirst into the ring post. Tim Patrick falls to the ground as blood begins to flow down his face.

Matt – Holy shit where did Phil come from?!

Johnny – He looks pissed, probably because Griffin didn’t accept his challenge before this match

Matt – So now he’s taking it out on Tim? Poor guy

Philip Joseph grabs the steel chair off of the ground and walks over to where Tim Patrick is. Suddenly, a hooded man hops over the crowd barrier in front of him. The man runs at Philip Joseph, swinging a baseball bat wildly. Philip Joseph quickly turns slides out of the ring, as the Jacob Figgins removes the hood from his head and stares at Philip Joseph as he backs up the ramp.

Johnny – Hey that’s Jacob Figgins!

Matt – Figgins and Patrick! That’s kind of catchy

Johnny – No it isn’t

Jacob Figgins walks back towards Tim Patrick, who is slowly getting to his feet. Jacob Figgins goes to help and talk to Tim Patrick. The two stand up as Damien Drake slowly walks behind them, holding the steel chair. Damien Drake lifts up the chair to swing at both men, but suddenly Tim Patrick jumps and delivers an insanely quick spinning heel kick to the face of Damien Drake.

Johnny – Detonator out of nowhere!

Matt – ALL OVER DAMIEN’S FACE

Tim Patrick quickly drops down and hooks the leg of Damien Drake as the referee begins to count the pin.

-1-

-2-

-3-

[Ding Ding Ding!]

Heather Thompson – Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner…Tim Patrick!

Johnny – What a win for Tim Patrick! A little bit of sweet revenge

Tim Patrick gets to his feet and wipes the blood from his face. Jacob Figgins helps him up and raises his arm in the air. Tim Patrick grabs the baseball bat out of Jacob Figgins’ hand and points up at the stage, where Philip Joseph stands, still watching. Tim Patrick then brings the baseball bat across his throat.

Johnny – An ominous message from Tim to Philip there, he better watch out

Phil smirks. Tim turns around as Eric Steel slides into the ring, bringing a lead pipe crashing into Jacob's head. Tim swings the bat, which Eric blocks. Phil charges down the ramp and slides into the ring. He and Damien grab Tim by the arms, wrenching the bat from his grasp. Eric buries the pipe in Tim's gut, then shoves him to the mat. The three men begin stomping him into the canvas. Phil turns away from the carnage, motioning for a mic.

Philip Joseph
People act surprised about what we did last week. They act like they didn’t see it coming. How could we take out both Alexander Remington, and Corey Casey from the Empire? They were the leaders, the faces of the Empire.

Philip Joseph smiled as he looked at both Eric Steel and Jack Savage

Philip Joseph
See that is exactly why we had to take them out. When we were asked to join The Empire, we were promised equality. We were told that there would be no leader, that we would all get our chances and that we would lead as a group. But that’s not what happened. Instead, Corey Casey selfishly took control of the group. He pushed Alex as the main superstar, while we were all left on the backburner. The promises we were made were not kept. So we took matters into our own hands. After Alex proved that he was far from worthy to hold the title, having been beaten down by Griffin, we decided to take out the trash. We eliminated him. The Empire has no room for selfish losers. Alex Remington, Corey Casey, they didn’t deserve to be a part of The Empire.

Philip Joseph turns and looks up at the entrance ramp.

Philip Joseph
Griffin, you’re going to fight me at Ascension. I’m naming myself the new number one contender. There’s nothing you can do about it. If anyone wants to challenge me for that, please, be my guest. Anyone?

Philip Joseph motions to the stage as Eric Steel and Jack Savage stand behind him menacingly. Nobody walks out from backstage, and Philip Joseph smiles before turning back to the crowd. But before he can say anything, he interrupted by Griffin Hawkins entrance music.

Griffin Hawkins walks out from backstage with the title on his shoulder. He has a microphone in his hand. Before he can talk, Philip Joseph speaks from the ring

Philip Joseph
Good, good, I’m glad you came out Griffin. What do you think of me being the new number one contender? Ready to fight me at Ascension?

Griffin Hawkins stares at Philip Joseph and then laughs at the three men in the ring. He shakes his head.

Griffin Hawkins
I’m not fighting you at Ascension. Have fun with…whatever this is.

Matt – DID NOT ACCEPT!

Griffin Hawkins immediately turns and walks backstage, as the three men stare angrily in the ring. The show fades away to commercial.

Philip hits pause on his TV and stands up.

Griffin, after all I did for you by having Remington taken out, this is how you repay me? The least you could do is give me a shot at what soon enough will be mine the IWF Championship. Consider this your warning it won't be on your waist very long. Mark my words this is my World now...

Philip laughs as he grabs his bags and heads out of his locker room and the scene fades to black.

Scene 2: Preparing for War

The scene opens up and we see Philip Joseph walking through the empty halls of Scottrade Center. He appears to be focused and on a mission.

So Timmy thinks he is going to avenge his "Friend" Blyss for what we did to here and get his payback for the attack on him last week. Well Timmy you may have gotten past Damien but you wont get so lucky this week.

Philip walks to the top of the entrance ramp and sits down looking and the dim lighted empty arena.

Tim you claim that you hate when a man hits a woman. Well then riddle me this, why the fuck are women allowed in the same ring as a man? If people want to get offended over what I did to here then maybe they should rally to have women removed from the sport. You see Tim she stepped into a mans world and got treated like a man. Don't like it? I honestly don't give two flying fucks. I did what I had to do and I am sure if it was a man you wouldn't be running around talking all your shit.

Philip chuckles as he stands up and slowly walks down the ramp to the ring. Philip stops and leans under the ring and pulls out a steel chair. He slides it into the ring and follows right after it. He sets it up in the middle of the ring and takes a seat in it.

Tim this is the same chair that was used to brutalize your good friend Blyss. This chair is what I am going to you to bloody you up before I break you in half. See this is a No Disqualification match. But I am sure you are thinking I am going to have Damien and Eric come help me out. But you are wrong I am going to make sure they don't show up. I am going to prove to you why I named myself the number 1 Contender for the IWF Championship.

Philip stands up and fold the chair up setting in the middle of the ring before climbing the turnbuckle and sitting there.

Look familiar Timmy boy? While you are out getting drunk of this stupid ass Saint Patrick's day. I am getting prepared and if you don't watch yourself you will soon find yourself in the same scenario Blyss did you and you won't be in the hospital over it night. I will be a much longer stay because I am coming out to not only send you a message but Griffin as well. You want to play with the Devil well guess what I am ready to rumble.

Philip hops off the turnbuckle and walks over and grabs the chair as he slides out of the ring and proceeds to walk up the ramp, he stops at the top and holds the chair close to him.

Tim I hope you are ready for war. This chair will soon be your demise. You are not ready for me. I am the King of The Empire and you will soon meet the executioner. So bring your "A Game" Timmy boy because anything less and your fucked. I am The Past,Present and Future of the IWF and NO ONE will stop me.

Philip walks back behind the curtain with the chair in hand as the scene fades to black.