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| :: Disclaimer :: Yo... This layout was created by Hollie; but, I slightly modified it a bit. Anyway... I'm givin’ Hollie credit! So… thanks, and stuff! :: End Disclaimer :: | ::
[[The scene opens up in a jam-packed arena. The crowd is on their feet as WWA returns from a commercial break. Without wasting any time, an unfamiliar music begins blaring over the arena’s speakers. The crowd turns their attention from the circling cameras, and towards the entrance ramp, wondering who is making their way out from the backstage area. As the music finally kicks-up, none other than WWA’s new comer, Dave Payne, makes his way out from behind the black curtains. Some of the fans, that recognize him from his days in WcWF, cheer as he stops midway down the ramp, and flexes his massive muscles.]]
[[After a moment of flexing, he continues his way down the ramp. Once he gets to the ring, he walks over to the black, steel steps, and marches his way to the top. He walks along the side of the apron, then climbs into the ring. Once in the ring, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and taunts. After a brief moment of taunting, he walks over to the ring announcer, and is handed a microphone. The ring announcer exits the ring, as Dave Payne turns around, and makes his way towards the center of the ring. His music finally fades out as he brings the microphone to his mouth, and begins to speak.]]
"I know you’re all probably wondering who I am... and just what in the hell I’m doing out here during the time of a scheduled match. Well, the name’s Dave... Dave Payne. And as far as I’m concerned... the guys in the back can wait until I’m done talking. Then, afterwards, they can put on their boring little match for you fans. As you all may, or may not be aware of... I’m included in this little “Triple Threat Match” that the boss put together for us. But, not only just a “Triple Threat Match...” but, a “Triple Threat Match” for the WWA National World Title! Would you look at that! New to the WWA, and I’m already included in a match for one of the highest ranking titles. It’s not as great as the Galactic Title; but... I can work with it!”
"I know it’s probably pissing a lot of the guys off in the back that I’m getting the shot at this title. But as far as I’m concerned... they can kiss my ass!” [[...some fans cheer...]] “If they have any problems with me, I’ve got five words for ‘em... DON’T SING IT... BRING IT!”
"Now the real reason I came out here... my match this Monday night at Warfare. I’ve got the National Champion, the so called, “Street Soldier,” Jordan Lindsey on one side. And on the other, the man they call Franklin. While I don’t know that much about Jordan Lindsay, one thing I do know is has some half blind, half retarded girlfriend, Amanda who can’t get my name right. And if I were Jordan, I’d kick the woman to the curb, and start trainin’ for his match, ‘cuz he’s gonna’ need all the training he can get. The same goes for Franklin. While he may have survived the F-5 to the floor, or whatever... one thing he won’t survive is the “Payne Bomb” from WWA’s self-proclaimed “Beast...” Dave Payne. I really hope neither of these jerk-offs have their hopes up on winning this match. I’d really hate to have to let them down! So, before I go... Franklin, get healed-up, ‘cuz I’d really hate to have to break anymore of your bones. And Jordan... there’s only one thing I can say! You better get that National Title polished-up for me! I don’t want any smudges on it when I’m raising it high in the air Monday night! Heh! Heh! Heh!”
[[Dave drops the microphone as his music blasts throughout the arena once again. Unlike a few minutes ago, Dave is receiving a few more cheers. He climbs the turnbuckle, and taunts once more. Making a waving motion around his waist, signaling that the National Title will be coming home with him soon enough.]]
[[The scene fades to black as Dave continues taunting. WWA takes a short commercial break.]]
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