'Gol's promo inspired me for this
painting. More to the point, it was his
constant beating of dead horses that
inspired me. This horse and the
others that will follow aren't dead, of
course. They're strong, alive and
vibrant, unlike the Gol's career.'

Picasso puts the palette and brush
down and faces the camera. 'The
way I see it, Gol has had maybe
three original ideas in his head since
he's been in Mercury, and he seems
intent on flogging them into the
ground. Thoughts, such as: 'Oblivion
is trying to make Mercury a better
place.' You want to improve on
Mercury? Get the fuck out. Oblivion
has been nothing more than a den of
cast-offs and has-beens. You live in
the past because all of your greatest
accomplishments lay there. I know
you don't like the present state of
Mercury because you've done
precisely jack shit here. A few short
title runs before losing the belts to
more talented competition is all your
little so-called reign of terror has
amounted to. As far as the future
goes, it lies in EEI and Jin Akujin,
Inferno and Subdued, and maybe
Aaron Axl if he's any good. Oblivion,
though, is a collection of dinosaurs
who get closer to extinction with every
loss.'

'And continuing Gol's stream of
repitious bullshit, let's count the
times that he's run down the tag
team titles. It's not my fault that the
Elite towered over the tag team
scene like the Colossus of Rhodes.
There was competition, here and
there. The Trents were excellent
opponents before they joined
Oblivion and got mired in your sea of
mediocrity, to name just one team.
But frankly, the Elite were just too
good. Do you know what it's like to be
too good at something, Gol? Of
course you wouldn't. You're the Gol.'

'But if you have any doubt as to our
ferocity or our drive to win, just take a
look at Dirge. We broke our comrade
and friend's arm, because we were
determined to win that match at any
expense. Competition over
friendship. More than anything, that's
what EEI is all about, forcing
everyone to step up to a higher level,
including ourselves. Realistically,
Gol, we've done more to improve the
quality of Mercury than Oblivion ever
could. You should thank us for doing
your job.'

'And then, of course, we come to the
big daddy delusion, frequently stated
and always proven wrong. Of all the
crap that's spewed from your mouth.
this is the top. And I quote: 'Don't go
and pick out a legend, an icon of
LCW, one of the greatest wrestlers in
LCW history, and challenge him.'

Picasso laughs and quickly regains
his composure. Still, a smile lingers
on his face. 'I'm not facing a legend
at Fusion, I'm facing you, remember?
You, who has led a powerless and
rediculous group of losers in an
attempt to set Mercury back two
years. You, who won one belt
through interference and another
through attrition instead of talent.
You, who lost both those belts in your
very first title defense. Sure, that's
what a legend is all about. In your
distorted world, I'm sure Oblivion is a
force to be reckoned with, and you
are a true legend. But in this little
place we like to call reality, you and
your friends are jokes. And I'll prove
that at Fusion by outwrestling,
outlasting and generally outclassing
you, Gol. Go ask Hollow about my
abilities. He knows his place in the
Mercury food chain now, at least.'

'Gol, you've called EEI a cancer on
Oblivion. Well, I'm calling you a
pimple on the ass of Mercury.
Annoying for a time, but quickly
forgotten. You have outstayed your
welcome here. Mercury needs young,
hungry stars who can carry this
company, not perpetual losers with
an oversized ego.'

Picasso turns back to the painting
and picks up his brush. He quickly
paint in the backside and tail of the
horse. 'What a fitting way to conclude
a talk about the Gol: a picture of a
horse's ass.'

(fade out)