Yadada mean?!
[cheering; chanting] Fatu! Fatu! Fatu! Fatu! Fatu!
I'm limping, busted open, cracked ribs, and it's all got to do with one person. It got to do with you, Drew, huh? What the hell? What the hell is wrong with you, huh? You tried to take me out? You tried to end my career, huh? You tried to take food of my fam-- Man, you tried to take food off my kids' table, Drew! What, you thought kicking my teeth down my throat was gonna keep me down? What, you thought hitting me in the head with the title was gonna keep me down, huh?! You thought hitting me with the car, pulling me out through the windshield and banging my head on the car until you see blood, you thought that was gonna hold me down?! Hell, you thought throwing me off the side of a building was gonna hold me down, huh?! HELL NO! HELL... NO!! [winces at the pain in his ribs]
[chanting] Fatu! Fatu! Fatu! Fatu! Fatu!
Hey, Drew, you did all that, but I'm still standing. I'm still here! And as long as I got air in these lungs, then that means every week, every week, Drew, I'M GONNA DOG WALK YOUR PUNK ASS! [does the Fatu shake and winces again. Drew McIntyre's music hits. A battered McIntyre stands in the entrance way]
Look at you out here, playing the victim. You're not the victim, Jacob. I am. You started this whole thing when you... you accused me of a crime I didn't commit because I'm Drew McIntyre. I'm always guilty until proven innocent, right? Well, you're Jacob Fatu. You're straight guilty because you're a damn criminal! You committed the crime, and you did the time, and ever since you got out, you stole. You stole. You stole. You stole my title. You stole WrestleMania from me. You stole everything from me! Talking about taking food off your family's table, taking food from your kids' mouth? THAT'S MY FOOD! I want to... Look me in the eye, Jacob. Look right in my eyes with your stupid, beady eyes 'cause I mean this from the bottom of my heart. SCREW YOUR DAMN KIDS! [Jacob angrily starts to limp towards McIntyre until Nick Aldis arrives]
Enough! Enough. You just stay right there, Jacob. Both of you just stay right there. It's obvious to me, especially after talking to medical, that neither one of you are in any condition to beat the hell out of each other again here tonight. But I have a feeling that you'll be okay by, let's say, April 18 at WrestleMania. That's right, Drew. You get your wish. You get your match at WrestleMania. Drew McIntyre, Jacob Fatu, one-on-one. But here's the deal. You two have become liabilities to yourselves and the company, so I won't be held responsible. WWE won't be held responsible. There will be no disqualifications, no count-outs. The referee is only there to count to three or call a submission. There will be a winner because your match at WrestleMania is unsanctioned.
Well, isn't that fitting for these two currently walking wounded.
Two beaten up and broken down human beings whose appetites for destruction are seemingly undulled. And now they get to do whatever the hell they want to each other at WrestleMania in an unsanctioned match!
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