Time to return to the roots

**Kyle Richards** Mon 25 Nov 2013 - 9:02

South of Heaven by Slayer plays as Kyle Richards makes his way to the ring wearing a long black leather coat, black jeans and a tight black t-shirt, having a torch in his right hand and a microphone in his left one. He walks slowly down the ramp shaking his head and illuminating the faces of some fans in the front rows with his torch. He climbs the steel steps looking at the fans through the flame of the torch and shaking his head. When he reaches the middle of the ring, he blows into his torch and looks disgusted at the crowd who boos him.

Kyle Richards: Last week i told you that i am coming to bring back the first hope of the human race. I dropped the so called dragon on his head and no one has heard of him ever since. Why? Because he is a coward, a cheeseburger eating doll that can't see the light. Just as no one in this arena, nor backstage can. I came to this ring with this torch here to enlighten you all. Take a long look at me, then take an even longer look at yourselves. Do we resemble. Because when i watched you all there through this flame all i saw was fries eating zombies, fat creatures that look like women and round kids. You can't tell who's a boy or a girl, because all of you, you look alike. You are the same. You come of the same breed as paper bags. No smell, no taste, no guts. Just wrapper. Hey, i can't say i blame you. In the end, that makes me special. The fact that you are wrappers. You know what we use wrapper for in the East? Burning, keeping the flame alive. For me, you are nothing more than torch energy. Hell, why don't i come down there? In the end this flame seems to have burned a little.

The crowd boos as Kyle Richards gets out of the ring and rips the baseball hat of a kid's head, a woman's cloche and throws them into the flame of the torch. He leans the bursting flame in a male's fan face. As the fan screams almost burned, Kyle Richards starts laughing hysterically. He keeps laughing until the flame chokes, then gets back into the ring and takes some dirt out of his pockets. He assembles it in the middle of the ring , puts the torch near it and mumbles some words, covers himself and the torch with his leather coat and unveils a brand new red flame burning. As the crowd is silent he grabs the mic and speaks

Kyle Richards: Return to your roots wrappers. Do you see how with some clay and the power of my words i lit the fire? I can be all i want, i can do all i want. Because i have the ancient knowledge of the people that knew what human-hood really was all about. Ruthlessness and magic. Black magic. Pleasure to torture. When it all started it was just Bogus Clay, a creature with no mind, no instincts nothing. A stupid being that was beaten by the strongest. But when the bear hunts you, the wolf steals your food you get straight. That is how people discovered words and fire. And that is what you , zombies perverted. You perverted words in political talking, you made the fire microwaves and you made meat hamburgers. What you didn't realize in progressing is that you came back to the Bogus status. You are just Clay. You are afraid of me because you are afraid of the human values. That is why you perverted them. Because you couldn't control them, like we do in the big East. You don't know the magic of the words and the magnetism of the flame. And the taste of the pain. Oh, but you will learn it. The Eastern Way. This week, the next one and all the weeks from now on. I will make bound to the Torture, to the Pain, to the Man. Because all you are is just Clay, just like the one that i will drop tonight on his head. Bogus. Fear zombies, because it's time for all you fear to surface. It's time for slaughter.

The crowd boos in chorus and screams Get out of here freak as Kyle grabs his torch, drops the mic and heads for backstage. On the ramp he stops and blows into the torch making another fan just miss the flame, then turns around and leaves while passing his hands through the flame and laughing as South of Heaven by Slayer plays from the boxes