Bottom line ...I'm done waiting ...Beat me if you can...but you won't ...the Sky era has now begun!

"Oh trust me, I'm more than willing to take you on and shut you the hell up. While I can back up my talk with talent, it seems as though you are just an egotistical smartass. I can take you on the October 8th episode of Warfare, and let's up the ante a bit by making this an X-treme rules match. Are you in?"

So mav is the one who steps up ...i applaud you tho ..but I question your logic ? The first of many to claim to be the one to put me down
And then reality strikes and you realize I am the most dangerous wrestler in this company .i only speak the truth your death wish has been
Signed sealed and soon to be delivered ..your date with the grim reaper approaches ..as a forgotten one of god lost but now found after you fall
Everybody else will know ...thou shall not fuck with TJ sky !! Let's do it ....hahaha

"You are so sure of yourself. But, little do you know, I have extensive knowledge of the art of wrestling, trained by technical legends, such as Chris Jericho, William Regal, Lance Storm, and many more. You just seem to be like some snot nosed punk who's full of himself who's been training for two, maybe 3 years. Trust me, you aren't ready for me in a normal match, let alone in an X-treme Rules match. Trust me, when you step into the ring with me, you'll be wishing I just put you away, you will be in so much pain." Maverick grinned wickedly, then disappeared into the shadows, most likely to train against his new found rival.

Hey man, I just got off the phone with my buddy PJ, who spent years tagging with Lance, and he said you're full of shit.

You better hide your bags, you fake motherfucker.

Maverick comes out of the darkness and goes face to face with X- Pac.

"Then maybe your contact is full of shit. I spent four fucking years training under Lance, and those were the hardest years of my life. So shut the fuck up and get the fuck out of here."

That not cool man, calling PJ a liar like that.

I might just make a phone call and have The Clique come down and teach you a lesson in respect. Better yet, let's get to the bottom of this right now...

Pac flips open his phone to call his fellow Clique member PJ Polaco.

"What's up, Kid?"

Not much, PJ.

I was just talking to this piece of shit from Michigan who calls himself Maverick. Yeah, what a sounding name, right?

Anyway, he claims that he spent YEARS training with our boy Lance Storm. I'm calling bullshit on this though.

I'm looking over his ring work and man, does it suck.

The only moves he's good at are kicks, punches, low blows, eye rakes, and diving sentons. What the fuck is this shit?

This dude claims that he was trained by Regal, Jericho, and Storm, and this is all he has to show for it?

Since when did Regal start teaching guys to fight like one of the fucking Hardy Boys?

It doesn't add up, PJ. It just doesn't add up. This guy is a real piece of shit for posing as one of Lance Storm's students.

People are more likely to believe that Regal taught me the bronco buster than the garbage that's coming out of this guy's mouth.

Can you imagine that? William Regal pulling me off to the side and being like, "Hey lad, you should put your opponent in the corner there. Then run up and gyrate your pelvis into his face fifty times."

But yeah... Come on, there's no way this Maverick guy is telling the truth!

This guy doesn't even know how to write down his date of birth properly. Isn't this shit that we all learned in Kindergarten?

Shame on Lance if this is the type of athlete that his school is producing.

Quote:From goofball's profile:
Wrestler Date of Birth: The 5th of December.

"Wow, Lance trained someone that moronic? Now THAT'S incredible.

Nah, I doubt it, dude. Lance probably just stretched this guy out for 2 minutes and now he's going around telling people that he was 'trained' by Lance Storm."

Maverick was BESIDE himself, boiling in anger, yet X- Pac continued to poke fun at the rookie. Finally, reaching his breaking point, he screams at the top of his lungs at X- Pac.

"OKAY, SURE, LET'S BELIEVE X- PAC, THE GUY WHO WAS HIGH ON POT WHILE FILMING A FLIPPING PORN MOVIE! I INCORPORATED THE PUNCHES, KICKS, LOW BLOWS, AND DIVING SENTONS INTO MY OWN ARSENAL BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT TO BE A TWO- TRICK PONY, ONLY BEING ABLE TO FIGHT TECHNICAL AND DO SUBMISSIONS! HOW ABOUT YOU STEP INTO THE RING WITH ME ON THE OCTOBER 15TH EPISODE OF WARFARE?!"

Hey fuck you, asshole! I don't regret a single thing about that tape me and Joanie made.

Because in the end I made a couple hundred grand just from getting my dick sucked on by a Playboy model.

Yeah, I got a lot of dirt in my history, but at least I'm not a phony like you.

I'd rather be the guy who made 1 Night in Chyna than be the guy who runs around lying about who trained him.

As for your challenge. Man, if you're even still around by then, sure I'll step in the ring and teach you a lesson or two.

I mean, come on, dude. Let's not even call it a match, let's call it what it is. You want me to get in the ring with you and teach you how to wrestle since you couldn't get Lance to do it properly.

But yeah, on behalf of me, The Clique, William Regal, and Lance Storm; we all got two words for your fake ass:

SUCK IT!

"You wish I was lying. I bet your still high on pot right now, and so you'll pretty much believe whatever this PJ fellow tells you. Hell, I bet this supposed PJ doesn't even have Lance's right number. In fact, let me call him right now."

The Avatar of Perfection pulls out his phone and calls Lance Storm and puts it on speaker. After a few rings, Lance picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lance, buddy."

"Maverick? Hey, what the hell's going on?"

"Yeah, there's this douche named X- Pac who's calling me out as a fake, saying I never had special training from you, Regal, Jericho, nor those other guys."

"X- Pac? Dude, if you heard that from PJ, I haven't talked to him since a few years after we last tagged, which was about 5, maybe 6 years ago. I wasn't training Maverick by then. Oh, and also, please get your head out of the pot."

Maverick, looking triumphant, put the phone off speaker and put the phone to his ear.

"Anything else you need, Mav?"

"Nah, I just need you to get this guy's head out of his ass. Thanks, Lance, I'll let you go now."

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Don't let that little fuck stick go!

Teach 'em a lesson, Pac!

Also, I just listened to Mavericks phone call with Storm, I'm pretty sure that sounded like JP Corino, some other loser Canadian not named Hart. That wasn't Lance Storm.

"Sorry, but I never even heard of some JP Corino scrub. That was Lance alright."

That sounds like exactly what someone that really was talking to him would say if they were caught in a lie.

"Well no matter what, you wouldn't believe me. But to be honest, I don't have the faintest idea who who this JP Corino scrub is. That was Lance's phone number he gave me when I paid to be trained by him for 4 years."

"... Really? I still know the address of my old home in Battle Creek. I am telling the truth, but you people are SO conceited here that you refuse to see that I'm right. Next thing you know, people will be saying me stage name isn't Maverick."

"But the thing is I'm NOT lying. If there is ANY WAY to convince you guys that I did grow up in Battle Creek, and that I was trained by Storm and Regal, please, let me know."

Hold up I layed this challenge if anyone is gonna fight it's me fuck that shit

Even tho I do enjoy the verbal annihilation that PAC an Nash layed down on mav

But This is my fight I want to be the one to embarrass this fraud

Yep. I was right. God damn you're an idiot, Maverick.