Dean Ambrose: It's 6:00 am here in Florida. Don't be mistaken..the reason I look the way I do right now..
Ambrose motioned to his expression which resembled a puppy that had just been struck. Something was seriously eating away at his spirit.
Dean Ambrose: ..is not because I lost my title. Although that is a problem, I'm facing something much more dire at the moment then losing golden hardware. I'm beginning to feel like I've lost my purpose. Like maybe I'm losing my way. On the verge of a rematch against The Miz and AJ Styles, a very important encounter, I find myself facing a crisis. Maybe I should stop my crusade. This crusade to save people and fight injustice. Never let it be said that I'm not open minded. This is the question that I posed to myself: Would I be happier if I lived out the rest of my existence in the same way someone like The Miz does? As..hollow..and superficial..and skin deep as it seems. This is what I'm going to try and find out. And must stress this point: I do not condone the actions that I am about to take part in.
He panned his camera downwards and focused on the t-shirt that he was wearing. It was black and evidently one of the highest selling shirts that the EBWF offers. It read "Your Favorite Wrestlers Favorite Wrestler" across it. Ambrose looked as though someone had just stabbed him in the chest.
Dean Ambrose: Let's begin.
The camera was turned so that the viewer was now seeing exactly what the former Tag Champ saw. He entered a rather run down looking motel that was the type most would avoid crashing in at any cost. It was pitch dark inside until a handy light switch illuminated the barren room. A woman laying facing first on the bed was easily the most eye catching arrangement. A slender blond with a lot of thick hair that was wearing only a red thong. No nudity was revealed due to the fact that she was laying face first on the mattress without a stir.
Dean Ambrose: I would wake up to my girlfriend Layla if I were The Miz, I guess..
He knelt down beside the bed that the unknown blond was completely incapacitated on. Not even the lights in the room of the light from his small camera caused her to stir.
Dean Ambrose: ..Layla..baby..it's me. Mike. I need you to wake up. We've got those entire seasons of Gilmore Girls and Grey's Anatomy to watch. You know how much I love those.
Ambrose slipped his fingers underneath of the women's chin and lifted her head up. Still nothing. She was obviously breathing but wasn't about to awaken any time soon. This was more than likely the result of heavy drinking although when it occurred exactly was anyone's guess. He let her head drop back down onto the mattress.
Dean Ambrose: This isn't really a good..representation of Layla. Her ass isn't nearly as gigantic. Because I tend to like women that aren't disgusting, fat little trolls. Glad she isn't saying anything. That accent drives me wild and not in the good way. You just stay home and get dumber while Daddy works, honey bun..
The bottom feeding version of Layla received a few pats on the head while Ambrose pushed himself back to a standing position.
Dean Ambrose: At this point The Miz would surely run over to his laptop to tweet some pearls of wisdom to his fan base that he refers to as "Mizfits" and that's not a completely stupid name at all.
The dry sarcasm was apparent. The camera panned around the almost empty room and there wasn't anything with an internet connection in sight. It's doubtful that the motel had wi-fi in the first place.
Dean Ambrose: Since that isn't about to happen I'll move on to the next part in a life of The Miz. He probably listens to a little music to get pumped up for his matches. And I heard a little tune the other day that really just made think of The Miz. It's like a map inside of his mind. It's probably going to end up being his entrance theme any day now.
Ambrose took a seat at the edge of the bed and drug a small dresser closer to him. Resting in the center of it was a cheap device that would play CD's. He popped it open and placed in a burnt copy of the music in question. Rock-rap from the group "Hollywood Undead" began to fill the room. A electronic, snappy kind of beat with a vaguely auto-tuned chorus.
"Cause I'm the kind of guy that you'd love to be.
There ain't nobody that could fuck with me.
And all the ladies want me to beat them cheeks.
And all you fucking haters go beat your meat.
'Cause I'm the k-"
The song came to a crashing halt as Ambrose frantically yanked the player from the dresser and onto the floor with a loud thud. His voice sounded as if he had just tried to swallow a pine cone.
Dean Ambrose: Alright, that's..that's enough of that. I guarantee you that plays in Miz's head at all times. Damn all of those 'haters'
He turned the camera back around so that it was focused upon his face.
Dean Ambrose: So what else would Miz do? He usually insults his opponent, or in this case, opponents, at the most base level. Let me give that a try.
The eccentric wrestler licked his lips and pushed his hair backwards as if he were trying to replicate Miz's spikey do' but it fell right back downwards.
The Miz and AJ Styles used to be main event players that fought over the World Title. But then CM Punk decided he wanted that spot and kicked both of their asses in record time. They couldn't close out pay per views any more so they decided to put aside their differences for the sake of survival and go tumbling back down the ladder together. They seem to misunderstand their place. They aren't lower on the card to work their way back up. They're just warm bodies to make myself and Rollins look good while we climb over them on our way to the top.
A long pause. He began to scratch at his chin while tonguing the inside of his cheek.
Dean Ambrose: Hm. Didn't sound very Miz like. Not enough catch phrases or pop culture references. Can't ruminate over that forever, though. I've got a few more Miz like activities that need to engage in. I could try and work on my Smuckers Brothers routine and use Seth as my AJ Styles but I don't think he would really be into that. I doubt I could ever have the cutting wit that those two comedic geniuses possess so I'll leave all the jokes to them. Just delightful. He really is a like a pro wrestling version of Jeff Dunham. And AJ is one of his mindless, brain dead puppets.
It was time to move and venture out of the dreadful environment. Not that the slums Ambrose was now strolling through was much of an improvement. Decayed buildings, boarded up former establishments and lewd strip clubs as far as they eyes could see. The camera's lens took it all in.
Dean Ambrose: Miz has a lot of connections. Celebrity connections. I don't think I'm going to find any here. So I'm just going to have to improvise.
A static cut shifted to another bit of footage. The camera now on a homeless man standing in a desolate alleyway while the Florida sun burned from above. With a bushy beard, torn clothes and stringy grey hair hidden under a dirty red beanie, it was obvious that he hadn't seen a gold meal or a shower in awhile. He seemed overly paranoid about the camera being locked on him.
Dean Ambrose: All you have to do is sing. You're my Taylor Swift.
Bum: But I don't know any Taylor Swift songs, mister.
Dean Ambrose: I don't either. But The Miz likes to make references about her in his promo's because that's what tough guys do.
Bum: W-Who is The Miz?
Dean Ambrose: Sing and I'll give you some cash.
Bum: ..I..
The disoriented and confused man scratched at his beard and tried to recall a song to sing. His voice was broken but about what you would expect from someone who had been living in the streets for years.
Bum: ..Swing low..sweet chariot..
A palm to the face brought the man crashing into a few of the garbage cans positioned behind him. He didn't have a lot of time to react as Ambrose's hand was firmly wrapped around his throat.
Dean Ambrose: Do you know what? I was homeless too! I've never begged for anything! You don't have an excuse! You just refused to fight!
The camera went to static once again before returning back to the motel that the promo initially began. The camera had been placed onto a trash can so Ambrose could move about freely. He was pacing back and forth and his earlier subdued mannerisms were completely gone as he was completely manic.
Dean Ambrose: So I've been able to come to a conclusion.
The Miz's high selling t-shirt was quickly torn off of his body and he tossed it aside with disgust. Ambrose's skin practically shivered.
Dean Ambrose: I'm not going to forgo my ambitions for the life of someone like The Miz. Honestly I feel very..
After he bit down on his lip his arms clutched around his stomach and he bent over to vomit. The texture and color was best left to the imagination of the viewer. A deep exhale came out of his chest.
Dean Ambrose: There are so many souls I can't save. But I don't want to save The Miz! Or AJ Styles! Doing this just makes me want to stop people like them even more! And I think it was The Miz that said Rollins and myself end all of our promo's with something cryptic like "everything is changing." This isn't going to be cryptic. Miz, that gigantic pussy, I'm going to stomp all of his teeth out and take those titles back! I hope that's direct enough.
The same motel that Dean Ambrose performed his social exercise was the same location that Seth Rollins was going to conduct his own experiment. The camera was locked squarely onto his face. His hair was pulled backwards and he even wore a pair of glasses that kept his usually wild look very reserved.
Seth Rollins: It takes a lot of courage to be the harbingers of a righteous future. To bring hope where there isn't any to be found. Because the company is run on fear. Fear, you understand, is more than a mere obstacle. Fear is a teacher, the first one you ever had. It's hard-wired into our brains, part of our chemical makeup just like the sensation of pain. It's foolish to dismiss fear as a mere emotion, or, worse yet, as uncontrolled reflex. Fear, for the majority of this roster, is a way of life. And I will use that fear against men like AJ Styles.
Rollins flashed a quick grin.
Seth Rollins: Fear of starvation is what first made you smile at your mother. Fear of social expulsion is what made you desperate to please your father. It's everywhere. The government feeds you fear. And, really, why shouldn't you be afraid? Life is terminal. Cigarettes will kill you. So will your cell phone. Your microwave, the power lines, the squirming germs that raw meat leaves behind on your kitchen counter and the chemical cleaners you neutralize them with...all lethal. Too much fat, too much sugar, too much exercise or not enough. Don't drink the water and don't drink less than eight glasses a day. Your environment is toxic, your natural resources are numbered, but whatever you do, don't panic! The stress will kill you.
He silently laughs to himself.
Seth Rollins: AJ Styles is man that operates soley on fear. I know at one point in his life he was a very religious person. But believe me...fear runs so much deeper than faith. He was afraid of being thought of as a failure so he ran back to the safest and most convenient place for him. A partnership with The Miz. He might crack some jokes about this, because making jokes is all he and The Miz seem to be able to do lately, but he knows what I'm saying is true. Why does AJ go from woman to woman? Fear of abandonment. He fears isolation and social exclusion. The Miz and his Hollywood connections make AJ feel like a big star. So he is never alone. I've seen fear in his eyes. I saw when he thought his family was going to be hurt and I saw it when a bag of spiders was poured onto his body. The man is a walking phobia. None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free. And terror enslaves Allen Jones Styles every waking moment.
The camera that Rollins was holding is placed onto his head and that's because it's built into the center of the black baseball cap he is now wearing. It's nearly impossible to be seen from an unsuspecting eye. He was now looking at himself in a mirror connected to a wooden dresser.
Seth Rollins: I am to going to show you how fear can paralyze anyone. It is an invaluable tool in the battle against injustice. Especially when used against the weak willed like AJ Styles. Believe in us.
Crackling and hissing static was quickly displayed before the head mounted camera that Rollins employed took the viewer to a Florida street. Much nicer than the one Dean Ambrose had occupied earlier. The sun was beginning to sit on a far trendier part of The Sunshine State where a large group was waiting in a line to get inside of a club. One was a redhead with blond streaks, mostly clad in black with dark mascara. A young woman who had been featured in a few of Seth's promo's: Allison Wonderland. Rollins had verbally abused the poor girl the last time EBWF viewers saw her appear.
Seth Rollins: Allison...
He spoke calmly to her as he approached. She turned with a look that was a mix of surprise and then disbelief.
Allison Wonderland: Get AWAY from me! What more do you want?! If you want to apologize it's too late!
Obviously she was more than a little bit upset since her embarrassment had secretly been taped by Ambrose and Rollins and broadcast for the world to see.
Seth Rollins: I don't deserve your forgiveness, Allison. There's nothing I can do to make it up to you.
Allison Wonderland: That's right! You can't!
Seth Rollins: Can I just have a moment or your time? Please? Somewhere more private?
Some of the others in the lines were beginning to watch the pair.
Allison Wonderland: Why? Why should I? So you and that Ambrose bastard can get off on making me look like an idiot?
Seth Rollins: He's gone.
Allison Wonderland: He's gone?
This seemed to catch her attention.
Seth Rollins: Yes. He's gone. I let him get into my head. Just like you warned me not to. But I need you. I need you, Allison.
A steady and intent look appeared on Allison's face. After a cut of static the footage now showed Allison with her back resting against an alley wall. Seth was able to convince her to step away from the club and hear him out. She looked jaded and wearisome.
Seth Rollins: I made a mistake. I've got this huge match against AJ Styles and The Miz. Tag titles are on the line. I lost them because I didn't have your support. I deserved that because I didn't support you. I'll never overcome talent like them if my head isn't on straight.
Allison Wonderland: Is your head on straight? And if Ambrose isn't your partner then who is?
She folded her arms over her chest and quirked a brow.
Seth Rollins: Jimmy.
Allison Wonderland: Jimmy JACOBS?!
Jimmy Jacobs was Seth's partner during most of his years on the indies in various promotions. Most notably as a part of The Age Of The Fall where Allison served as a valet for the group.
Seth Rollins: We're going to be champions. And I want you there with us. Like the old days.
Another cut in the footage jumped to the two hugging one another and Rollins' camera peered down at the face of the girl he held in an embrace.
Seth Rollins: I'm sorry. So, so, sorry.
Static took us back to the motel room. Allison didn't seem to mind or notice the horrible condition of her surroundings because she was locked in a very passionate moment. The former lovers were kissing deeply and Rollins' shirt and glasses had been removed and his hair was now freely hanging downwards. His hat-cam was resting on the dresser and catching all of the action from that angle. His hands were placed on her hips and he led her to the bathroom. Their tongues danced about with each others while she used her hand to feel about at the walls for a switch. Her back was pressed against the wall and when the lights came on she broke the kiss and let out a blood curdling screech. Because there was a very ghastly sight in the bath tub. The water was stained a red color and a man with severe gashes on his wrists was laying motionless inside. Blood stained his face and hair and his mouth was agape and his eyes were wide and lifeless. It was Dean Ambrose.
Allison Wonderland: What is that?!
The words were barely decipherable due to Allison being so frightened and shocked. Seth was strangely calm during all of this.
Seth Rollins: What? I told you Ambrose was gone, didn't I? I got rid of him.
Allison legs shook and her hands started to tremble.
Seth Rollins: Isn't that what you wanted?
Another scream. Loudly pitched and filled with fear. Allison shoved her way away from Seth and fled from the motel as fast as her feet would carry her. One final burst of static showed a still shirtless Rollins grinning into the mirror he had cut his earlier promo in. The camera was resting atop of the dresser and behind him Dean Ambrose could be seen sitting on the bed. He removed the fake gashes from his wrists although he was still covered in whatever he had used to coat himself in to give the illusion of blood.
Seth Rollins: That was amazing. That look in her eyes. That scream. I think we just changed her life. For the better.
His grin grew even wider before he composed himself and rubbed his hand along his dark beard.
Seth Rollins: Like I said from the beginning. Fear is power. And that power is going to get the Tag Team Titles back from Styles and Miz. And after that? We continue. We continue until we see that look in the eyes of everyone in this company that continues to make the EBWF a dystopia. We CONTINUE until they scream their lungs out. We continue until principals and honor are restored. Our methods are not cruel and unusual.
Dean Ambrose: It's the only way.
The pair of ruthless zealots faded away as the scene ended.
