"Oh really, Fallen? I've not gotten in to your head?"
Price smirks, "Then why bother telling me so? You're further in the closet than Tom Cruise, except the closet you're inhabiting is one of dissapointment."
He leans further in to view, "You've even went the cheap heat route, too. My, oh my, you are really tugging at straws, ain't you. Where did you learn your promo skills, pal; the back of a box of cornflakes? You're nothing but a cardboard cutout 'c u next tuesday' mate. Even your promo is a cliche, it sounds like something you wrote two days ago, lost and had to do again in all honesty."
Standing up, he sighs, briefly. "Just keep talking, and talking, and talking, and talking, and putting the masses to sleep. Have you not noticed that half of the crap that rolls off your tongue, I don't even respond to? I'm too busy wondering if your arsehole gets jealous every time your mouth opens for any of your words to matter to me."
He looks away, a small laugh squeeks out of his mouth before he regains his composure and looks back in to the camera, only this time the smile is gone and there's a slowing of his words, and a change of tone.
"Wrestlers like you will waste time and effort trying to push buttons looking for a reaction or a lapse of concentration but wrestlers like me? I'll just slap you so hard your phone will reset itself, pal."
Price shrugs his shoulders, "It's just that simple; outta nowhere!"
He reaches over and covers the camera with his hand as it cuts out.
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