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[video=youtube;2TwLOOFvzS4]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2TwLOOFvzS4[/video]
A sound that has not been heard for several months rings out, a sound that the fans have been dying for. This sound is none other than the infamous shattering glass that precedes the opening riff of the entrance theme of one of the most popular and successful superstars in professional wrestling, Stone Cold Steve Austin. At the sound of the shattering glass, thousands and thousands of fans are brought to their feet, cheering in unison, as the camera pans around the arena to get a shot of all of them. Many are seen with various signs dedicated to the Rattlesnake, while others are donning a variety of Austin memorabilia, and many of the fans belong to both groups. Just as it seems like they can't be anymore excited to be cheering for the Bionic Redneck again, out he comes from the backstage, stopping at the top of the stage with his UWF Championship over his shoulder, soaking it all in.
After a moment, Austin begins walking down the ramp towards the ring, making his way up the steel steps and along the apron, stepping over the middle rope and entering the ring. Stone Cold walks over to the nearest corner and ascends it, throwing up the Stone Cold Salute with one hand and raising his championship belt as high as he can with the other hand. Austin steps down and heads to the corner diagonal from the one he was just standing on, repeating the process. Austin steps down again after posing and repeats the process with the remaining turnbuckles before signaling for a microphone from the ringside officials. He is granted one as he makes his way into the ring.
The fans erupt with further excitement as Austin stands there with the microphone in hand, soaking in the adoration further. His theme music fades out until it can no longer be heard playing, making the deafening "Austin!" chants more audible than they were before, as they echo throughout the arena and seem to shake the place. After a moment, Austin raises the microphone to his mouth and begins to speak.
Stone Cold: It's been almost nine weeks since I won the You Dubya Eff Championship, but tonight as I sit here with this belt, admiring its beauty and reminiscing on the long, hard road to carrying it, this is the first time I'm getting to truly appreciate it. And that's because, for the first time in nine weeks I'm thinking clearly, I've got my head screwed onto my shoulders instead of up my own ass. Instead of showering everyone within earshot with boastful, ego stroking garbage that served in assisting no one but myself, I am now back in control of the weapon that is my loose tongue, and because I once again care where I'm shooting and what I'm shooting, my words still serve to benefit me, but now they only destroy those that choose ta' cross me.
Four nights ago, I did what everyone said that I wouldn't do, that I couldn't do. I beat Christian to retain the You Dubya Eff Championship and I ended his undefeated streak, a match that ended in a fashion that he wasn't satisfied with, an ending that I was initially indifferent to as long as it meant I was still the champion, but the more I think about it, the more dissatisfied I find myself with the way things went down as well. Christian was the biggest damn challenge I've had since comin' to the You Dubya Eff, and even though I told him I'd be several steps ahead of him once we got to the match itself, I knew that battling him in the ring was going to be just as challenging as battling him on the microphone was.
And that night, we put on a hell of a match, a war that would truly prove who the better man of the two of us was, a battle that would crown the more deserving champion, and it was on the fast track ta' doing just that but ultimately fell short. Christian got his foot under the bottom rope, but the referee counted three anyway. So yeah I'm still the You Dubya Eff Champion, and yeah I fought my ass off ta' make sure that didn't change, but I've done so under circumstances I didn't want ta' do so under.
Normally Stone Cold doesn't give a damn, and thinks the rules can piss off, but he's heard that his championship reign was a fluke for too long, so for once I'm gonna uphold the rules. I wanna defend this here belt with honor, and keep it not because of count out, not because of disqualification, not because of what I did to my opponent when the ref was knocked down. I wanna keep it because I beat the piece a' trash challenging for it an' pinned 'em one, two, three, without their foot under the damn rope!
This gets the crowd further behind Austin, as if they could cheer the man any louder, as they show their appreciation for his sportsmanship by beginning an, "Austin!" chant.
But what's done is done and the only thing I can do is move forward, it's not like that's the only reason my match stirred up controversy anyhow. Some say I won the match because of the fact that I reverted back to my old middle finger raisin', beer drinkin', glass shatterin', "What" chantin' ways. That certainly helped me look at things the way I needed to ta' win, so in that respect yeah it factored into the finish, but if you think the booker of the contest looked at the change of heart and picked me as the winner solely on that, I'm gonna have ta' ask ya ta' quit smokin' what Rob Van Dam's smokin'.
Some people laugh regarding the shot at the European Champion, others, "Ooooh" in response.
You all saw how I won, but that's not why I won. I won because I held nothing back, I won because I did everything I was gonna do and then some. I took all the doubt that everyone had in me and I combined it with the frustration I felt regarding the chip on Christian's shoulder that he didn't earn or deserve ta' have and fired on all cylinders, remaining a house of fire. In short, I did what I do best, I opened up a can of whoopass and made sure the championship remained where it belongs.
But as one obstacle is overcome, another one is placed in my path. Raw's main event for Summerslam has been revealed and it's one hell of a contest. Stone Cold Steve Austin will put the You Dubya Eff Championship on the line against Christian, Cody Rhodes, Randy Orton, Em Vee Pea, and a sixth competitor ta' be named in an Elimination Chamber match. Quite a tall order, but you bet yer bottom dollar it's an order I'm more than ready ta' fill.
Other men would be worried if they were in my position. I mean, I already have a target on me because of the fact I hold what they all want around my waist, but on top of that I'm the only man in this match that the crowd cheers for, so that right there is two reasons for them ta' wanna beat my ass before they focus on each other. Not to mention, three of the four revealed competitors are in the same faction, and even though their split seems imminent, I'm not one to assume and wouldn't put it past 'em ta' try and utilize their numbers game in the steel structure and try ta' mug me out of the match.
And ya know what, maybe it'll play out that the In Dubya Oh does get ta' beat down Stone Cold, maybe it'll be all five of us in the match with no eliminations and I get jumped by all four of you. Maybe the fifth guy's also a heel and he helps you whip my ass. Regardless, I'm gonna keep getting back up and I'm going to overcome the odds. Because while Em Vee Pea and Cody Rhodes have been in this type a' match before, and Randy's done so four times, there's one of ya that hasn't, and that's the sumbitch I just beat, Christian.
So not only is one of you a desirable target because of your inexperience, the rest of you are also at a disadvantage. Because while you've been in an Elimination Chamber, I've been in the more savage version where weapons were scattered about the fray. I was in an Extreme Elimination Chamber match, at Summerslam, ironically enough. And in the match, just like this one, I was the defending champion. So I've been in this position before, and since I just repeated history and kept my Great American Bash winning streak going, I'd say there's a good chance I'll repeat history at Summerslam.
Let's start at the top of the heap and keep digging until I get ta' every one of you bottomfeeders. Em Vee Pea, the self-proclaimed highest paid soup-er-star not only on Tuesday Night Raw, but in all of You Dubya Eff. If you'll remember, Em Vee Pea had a number one contender's match at Starrcade against Mister Anderson, a match that he lost but once Ken got the contendership, he no-showed the match and that's why it was only me and Christian four nights ago. So it's funny ta' me that you find yourself with a shot at my belt anyway, especially since we had words at Starrcade referring to the fact that you might earn yourself one.
Tell me this, Montel. Why is it that everyone's so impressed with you? Because yer ballin'? I don't even know what the hell that's supposed ta' mean, ballin'. Is it cuz ya play basketball? (What?) Baseball? (What?) Football? (What?) Teeball? (What?) Skee Ball? (What?) Paddle Ball? (What?) Whiffle Ball? (What?) Volleyball? (What?) Or are you just a compulsive teabagger and you like ta' brag about it?
Maybe they're impressed because you make big things pop and little things stop, which makes about as much sense as Vince Russo holding a booking seminar, but who the hell am I ta' dictate what passes as ebonic slang and what doesn't, I'm not an authority on that kind of thing obviously. Or maybe they're hoping one day yer gonna punch a sumbitch in the abdomen and sparks are gonna fly out as he falls flat on his ass. Perhaps you can break it down for me, because I don't get it. When I look at you, I wanna slap the sunglasses off yer face. I wanna rip the braids out of yer hair, I want to hang you from one of the Chamber walls by your necklaces and lay into yer stomach like candy's gonna fall outta yer ass. I do love a good pinata.
Cody Rhodes, I don't remember the tournament match the Raw card refers to when it comes to the history between you and I, instead I think back to the days of me kickin' yer ass all over the iMPACT Zone, back when you were doing the "Dashing" bullshit and giving beauty tips, tweezing yer eyebrows and putting on lip balm and somehow managing to act like more a smurf than yer brother Dustin. And as much as I'd like ta' tell ya that things are better now, they aren't, I mean ya come out here every week, well actually ya don't ya sit in the backstage and whine about not being booked for promo time, but you appear on Stone Cold's show every week looking like yer trying to keep yer face fresh and talking like yer constipated.
You walk around with the same pissed off look on yer face that your old tag team partner Bob Holly walks around with, and I don't know if it's because you believe in what yer saying and everything you gripe about actually irks you, or your face is stuck like that. Either way, you have a sense of entitlement about this particular title shot, like it's something that's been stolen from you time and time again, like it's the proverbial carrot dangled before the steed's mouth ta' motivate him ta' run faster. Well, now that you're getting your shot, the reality is the only thing you're entitled to is the frosty can of whoopass I've got sitting in my fridge with your name on it.
Randy Orton, you're an interesting case because our paths never crossed before You Dubya Eff, and now they can't seem to quit crossing. I'll be honest, I look forward to whipping your ass for a different reason. To prove that you're nothing like Stone Cold, to keep you from winning my championship, those are the obvious ones, the reason I'm referring to is a matter of defending honor. If anyone had anything stolen from them it's Austin Aries. You sons a' bitches should be split up right now, no In Dubya Oh ta' speak of, but instead a far more talented soup-er-star is back on the independent circuit while this ridiculous circus act continues. Not if I have anything ta' do with it, especially if you try ta' group up on me.
Which brings me to the last of you chuckleheads, Christian. I was hoping that I had punched you enough in our match ta' swell yer mouth shut for a bit so you couldn't talk so damn much, but when Raw went on the air this week, you talked and talked and talked and flapped yer stupid little gums without end or limitation. Well good news, the time for talking has resumed, you have one more shot at the You Dubya Eff Championship and you better make it count, because I'm not letting you near the contendership if and when you lose for the second time. Because now it's the world doubting you, and not only that, yer fellow stablemates are doubting you. (What?) Over on Smackdown your old buddy Edge is doubting you. (What?) At home, your wife and kids are doubting you. (What?) But most of all, now that you don't have your undefeated streak ta' brag on, you are doubting yourself.
If it concerns you that I had more to say ta' some of you than others, don't worry, I'll have plenty more ta' say about all of you when you start showing yer faces in Stone Cold's ring. As for this mystery participant, I could give Zack Gowen's prosthetic leg who the sixth participant is. Is it Bully Ray? Is it The Rock? Is it Christopher Daniels? I could speculate all day, but I'm not going to, because whether it's Hawkins or the silly bastard behind the codes, or anyone else on either roster, having debuted or not yet debuted, they will be eliminated from the match just like the other four. And Stone Cold will leave Summerslam the way he left the Great American Bash, Backlash, Starrcade, and Wrestlemania, having just opened up a can of whoopass and won.
And THAT'S the bottom line...
As Austin goes to utter his famous trademark line, what has been known to occur many times in the past happens, he is cut off by the entrance music of one of his opponents.
A sound that has not been heard for several months rings out, a sound that the fans have been dying for. This sound is none other than the infamous shattering glass that precedes the opening riff of the entrance theme of one of the most popular and successful superstars in professional wrestling, Stone Cold Steve Austin. At the sound of the shattering glass, thousands and thousands of fans are brought to their feet, cheering in unison, as the camera pans around the arena to get a shot of all of them. Many are seen with various signs dedicated to the Rattlesnake, while others are donning a variety of Austin memorabilia, and many of the fans belong to both groups. Just as it seems like they can't be anymore excited to be cheering for the Bionic Redneck again, out he comes from the backstage, stopping at the top of the stage with his UWF Championship over his shoulder, soaking it all in.
After a moment, Austin begins walking down the ramp towards the ring, making his way up the steel steps and along the apron, stepping over the middle rope and entering the ring. Stone Cold walks over to the nearest corner and ascends it, throwing up the Stone Cold Salute with one hand and raising his championship belt as high as he can with the other hand. Austin steps down and heads to the corner diagonal from the one he was just standing on, repeating the process. Austin steps down again after posing and repeats the process with the remaining turnbuckles before signaling for a microphone from the ringside officials. He is granted one as he makes his way into the ring.
The fans erupt with further excitement as Austin stands there with the microphone in hand, soaking in the adoration further. His theme music fades out until it can no longer be heard playing, making the deafening "Austin!" chants more audible than they were before, as they echo throughout the arena and seem to shake the place. After a moment, Austin raises the microphone to his mouth and begins to speak.
Stone Cold: It's been almost nine weeks since I won the You Dubya Eff Championship, but tonight as I sit here with this belt, admiring its beauty and reminiscing on the long, hard road to carrying it, this is the first time I'm getting to truly appreciate it. And that's because, for the first time in nine weeks I'm thinking clearly, I've got my head screwed onto my shoulders instead of up my own ass. Instead of showering everyone within earshot with boastful, ego stroking garbage that served in assisting no one but myself, I am now back in control of the weapon that is my loose tongue, and because I once again care where I'm shooting and what I'm shooting, my words still serve to benefit me, but now they only destroy those that choose ta' cross me.
Four nights ago, I did what everyone said that I wouldn't do, that I couldn't do. I beat Christian to retain the You Dubya Eff Championship and I ended his undefeated streak, a match that ended in a fashion that he wasn't satisfied with, an ending that I was initially indifferent to as long as it meant I was still the champion, but the more I think about it, the more dissatisfied I find myself with the way things went down as well. Christian was the biggest damn challenge I've had since comin' to the You Dubya Eff, and even though I told him I'd be several steps ahead of him once we got to the match itself, I knew that battling him in the ring was going to be just as challenging as battling him on the microphone was.
And that night, we put on a hell of a match, a war that would truly prove who the better man of the two of us was, a battle that would crown the more deserving champion, and it was on the fast track ta' doing just that but ultimately fell short. Christian got his foot under the bottom rope, but the referee counted three anyway. So yeah I'm still the You Dubya Eff Champion, and yeah I fought my ass off ta' make sure that didn't change, but I've done so under circumstances I didn't want ta' do so under.
Normally Stone Cold doesn't give a damn, and thinks the rules can piss off, but he's heard that his championship reign was a fluke for too long, so for once I'm gonna uphold the rules. I wanna defend this here belt with honor, and keep it not because of count out, not because of disqualification, not because of what I did to my opponent when the ref was knocked down. I wanna keep it because I beat the piece a' trash challenging for it an' pinned 'em one, two, three, without their foot under the damn rope!
This gets the crowd further behind Austin, as if they could cheer the man any louder, as they show their appreciation for his sportsmanship by beginning an, "Austin!" chant.
But what's done is done and the only thing I can do is move forward, it's not like that's the only reason my match stirred up controversy anyhow. Some say I won the match because of the fact that I reverted back to my old middle finger raisin', beer drinkin', glass shatterin', "What" chantin' ways. That certainly helped me look at things the way I needed to ta' win, so in that respect yeah it factored into the finish, but if you think the booker of the contest looked at the change of heart and picked me as the winner solely on that, I'm gonna have ta' ask ya ta' quit smokin' what Rob Van Dam's smokin'.
Some people laugh regarding the shot at the European Champion, others, "Ooooh" in response.
You all saw how I won, but that's not why I won. I won because I held nothing back, I won because I did everything I was gonna do and then some. I took all the doubt that everyone had in me and I combined it with the frustration I felt regarding the chip on Christian's shoulder that he didn't earn or deserve ta' have and fired on all cylinders, remaining a house of fire. In short, I did what I do best, I opened up a can of whoopass and made sure the championship remained where it belongs.
But as one obstacle is overcome, another one is placed in my path. Raw's main event for Summerslam has been revealed and it's one hell of a contest. Stone Cold Steve Austin will put the You Dubya Eff Championship on the line against Christian, Cody Rhodes, Randy Orton, Em Vee Pea, and a sixth competitor ta' be named in an Elimination Chamber match. Quite a tall order, but you bet yer bottom dollar it's an order I'm more than ready ta' fill.
Other men would be worried if they were in my position. I mean, I already have a target on me because of the fact I hold what they all want around my waist, but on top of that I'm the only man in this match that the crowd cheers for, so that right there is two reasons for them ta' wanna beat my ass before they focus on each other. Not to mention, three of the four revealed competitors are in the same faction, and even though their split seems imminent, I'm not one to assume and wouldn't put it past 'em ta' try and utilize their numbers game in the steel structure and try ta' mug me out of the match.
And ya know what, maybe it'll play out that the In Dubya Oh does get ta' beat down Stone Cold, maybe it'll be all five of us in the match with no eliminations and I get jumped by all four of you. Maybe the fifth guy's also a heel and he helps you whip my ass. Regardless, I'm gonna keep getting back up and I'm going to overcome the odds. Because while Em Vee Pea and Cody Rhodes have been in this type a' match before, and Randy's done so four times, there's one of ya that hasn't, and that's the sumbitch I just beat, Christian.
So not only is one of you a desirable target because of your inexperience, the rest of you are also at a disadvantage. Because while you've been in an Elimination Chamber, I've been in the more savage version where weapons were scattered about the fray. I was in an Extreme Elimination Chamber match, at Summerslam, ironically enough. And in the match, just like this one, I was the defending champion. So I've been in this position before, and since I just repeated history and kept my Great American Bash winning streak going, I'd say there's a good chance I'll repeat history at Summerslam.
Let's start at the top of the heap and keep digging until I get ta' every one of you bottomfeeders. Em Vee Pea, the self-proclaimed highest paid soup-er-star not only on Tuesday Night Raw, but in all of You Dubya Eff. If you'll remember, Em Vee Pea had a number one contender's match at Starrcade against Mister Anderson, a match that he lost but once Ken got the contendership, he no-showed the match and that's why it was only me and Christian four nights ago. So it's funny ta' me that you find yourself with a shot at my belt anyway, especially since we had words at Starrcade referring to the fact that you might earn yourself one.
Tell me this, Montel. Why is it that everyone's so impressed with you? Because yer ballin'? I don't even know what the hell that's supposed ta' mean, ballin'. Is it cuz ya play basketball? (What?) Baseball? (What?) Football? (What?) Teeball? (What?) Skee Ball? (What?) Paddle Ball? (What?) Whiffle Ball? (What?) Volleyball? (What?) Or are you just a compulsive teabagger and you like ta' brag about it?
Maybe they're impressed because you make big things pop and little things stop, which makes about as much sense as Vince Russo holding a booking seminar, but who the hell am I ta' dictate what passes as ebonic slang and what doesn't, I'm not an authority on that kind of thing obviously. Or maybe they're hoping one day yer gonna punch a sumbitch in the abdomen and sparks are gonna fly out as he falls flat on his ass. Perhaps you can break it down for me, because I don't get it. When I look at you, I wanna slap the sunglasses off yer face. I wanna rip the braids out of yer hair, I want to hang you from one of the Chamber walls by your necklaces and lay into yer stomach like candy's gonna fall outta yer ass. I do love a good pinata.
Cody Rhodes, I don't remember the tournament match the Raw card refers to when it comes to the history between you and I, instead I think back to the days of me kickin' yer ass all over the iMPACT Zone, back when you were doing the "Dashing" bullshit and giving beauty tips, tweezing yer eyebrows and putting on lip balm and somehow managing to act like more a smurf than yer brother Dustin. And as much as I'd like ta' tell ya that things are better now, they aren't, I mean ya come out here every week, well actually ya don't ya sit in the backstage and whine about not being booked for promo time, but you appear on Stone Cold's show every week looking like yer trying to keep yer face fresh and talking like yer constipated.
You walk around with the same pissed off look on yer face that your old tag team partner Bob Holly walks around with, and I don't know if it's because you believe in what yer saying and everything you gripe about actually irks you, or your face is stuck like that. Either way, you have a sense of entitlement about this particular title shot, like it's something that's been stolen from you time and time again, like it's the proverbial carrot dangled before the steed's mouth ta' motivate him ta' run faster. Well, now that you're getting your shot, the reality is the only thing you're entitled to is the frosty can of whoopass I've got sitting in my fridge with your name on it.
Randy Orton, you're an interesting case because our paths never crossed before You Dubya Eff, and now they can't seem to quit crossing. I'll be honest, I look forward to whipping your ass for a different reason. To prove that you're nothing like Stone Cold, to keep you from winning my championship, those are the obvious ones, the reason I'm referring to is a matter of defending honor. If anyone had anything stolen from them it's Austin Aries. You sons a' bitches should be split up right now, no In Dubya Oh ta' speak of, but instead a far more talented soup-er-star is back on the independent circuit while this ridiculous circus act continues. Not if I have anything ta' do with it, especially if you try ta' group up on me.
Which brings me to the last of you chuckleheads, Christian. I was hoping that I had punched you enough in our match ta' swell yer mouth shut for a bit so you couldn't talk so damn much, but when Raw went on the air this week, you talked and talked and talked and flapped yer stupid little gums without end or limitation. Well good news, the time for talking has resumed, you have one more shot at the You Dubya Eff Championship and you better make it count, because I'm not letting you near the contendership if and when you lose for the second time. Because now it's the world doubting you, and not only that, yer fellow stablemates are doubting you. (What?) Over on Smackdown your old buddy Edge is doubting you. (What?) At home, your wife and kids are doubting you. (What?) But most of all, now that you don't have your undefeated streak ta' brag on, you are doubting yourself.
If it concerns you that I had more to say ta' some of you than others, don't worry, I'll have plenty more ta' say about all of you when you start showing yer faces in Stone Cold's ring. As for this mystery participant, I could give Zack Gowen's prosthetic leg who the sixth participant is. Is it Bully Ray? Is it The Rock? Is it Christopher Daniels? I could speculate all day, but I'm not going to, because whether it's Hawkins or the silly bastard behind the codes, or anyone else on either roster, having debuted or not yet debuted, they will be eliminated from the match just like the other four. And Stone Cold will leave Summerslam the way he left the Great American Bash, Backlash, Starrcade, and Wrestlemania, having just opened up a can of whoopass and won.
And THAT'S the bottom line...
As Austin goes to utter his famous trademark line, what has been known to occur many times in the past happens, he is cut off by the entrance music of one of his opponents.