Jonathan Storm: The night was almost perfect...everything was falling into place. One thing managed to stop it though, and that was Silky Palms. This is neither here, nor there, but it gives me time to reflect. It allows me to think about my next step, and how I can lead my brothers in The Inner Circle into something much better...how I can lead them into the promised land. I will do just so by capturing a belt I should still be wearing to this day, had a certain man formerly known as "The Greatest" not screwed me out of. Once again, let us reflect.

I win the Canadian Title...I get screwed. I become the number one contender to the World Title, and I get screwed. This will not happen again, I assure you. This time, I go into my match mentally prepared to verbally, physically, and mentally destroy a man who has been uncapable of stopping me in the past. That man is Chris Davison.

Chris Davison and I have a semi-storied past. Ever since I eliminated him from a battle royal at Holy Night, the man has tried to ride my coattails, getting into my face whenever he could. He was sour grapes, and went onto Comissioner's Corner to try to rile me up. It hasn't worked. No matter what he does, the guy doesn't phase me. I have gone on to suceed not despite of him, but rather IN SPITE of him. The little engine that could just can't cut it against Pop Perfection. Everyone's favorite underdog has done what of value? Beat Kyle Solo...oh, that's right...he didn't do that. He's just gone onto become one of the many people that's become choked by the shadow of...dammit, I can't think of his name...you know, that guy who likes to get the shit kicked out of him by ? I think that's who it is. Is he Tempest's lap dog? Certainly not...not even she can bear to see this man fail...but fail he has. He failed to protect her from Night Stalker. You continuously try to win, just to try to prove the critics wrong. You know what? I like that. I came from the same place that you're at now. The only difference is that I learned how to succeed. I learned that I can beat anyone on any given night, because I'm not only better than anyone on this roster, I'm better than most anyone on this planet. Don't you get it, Davison? You keep trying and trying, and I just don't need to anymore! I have nothing left to prove...except to you apparently...but that's okay. I can do that. I can prove everybody wrong one more time. Does one loss at an unfortunate time mean that Jonathan Storm isn't as good as we all thought? Hardly. It just means that...a loss. Unfortunately, this coming Suicide one loss to Jonathan Storm means the culmination of weeks of failure, Chris. It means that your little run of carrying around my belt is over. It means that once again, Chris Davison has to go back to the drawing board, once again trying to strike out on his own, without the aid of Tempest or Michael Trey.

What about me do you dislike so much? Is it the fact that I can succeed no matter what I do? Is it the issue that I've made it big, and you haven't? Or could it be the slight problem that I've picked your woman to pieces last weekend on Suicide? I, along with my brothers in arms, turned her into a lifeless shell in front of your very eyes, Chris. A Downtown Connection, a chair shot, and the coup de grace, my Encore Performance, locked in, and causing her pain beyond belief. I'm perfectly aware that this woman is your greatest strength, and your biggest weakness. Your mind is too busy plotting your little revenge. While your dreaming of ways to jump off that ladder to hurt me, I'll be working my way up the ladder, proving once again why there isn't anyone better than Jonathan Storm.

Storm: Two men with nothing to lose step into the ring on Saturday. Two men who have been stepped on, passed over, and hidden in shadows finally step up to the plate. One of them has been there before, but nobody noticed or cared. The other one gets his first shot. Who can handle this pressure? Is it the one with grace, poise, and ability? Or is it Chris Davison, who's thinking so clearly, you may be able to make out the veins in his forehead? Who wants this more? Who NEEDS this more? Simple...me. I need to show everyone else that me beating Lance Sterling was no flash in the pan. I need this, only for the simple fact that I need to make an example out of someone...and quite unfortunately it's you. In some other place and time, we could've been good friends and better allies, but that's not the case. This Saturday...you become just another nameless face in the long highlight reel of the career that is Jonathan Storm. After all...

And if you want this more, Davison...you may just have to kill me...if you have that instinct in you. See you Saturday, nameless face.