The Bangladeshi Flag appears on the screen for several seconds with some very stereotypical sounding Bangladeshi music.

Announcer 2: What’s this?

The flag on the screen starts to pixelate and become fuzzy as the music starts to crackle and skip. Suddenly the song “New Divide” by LinKin Park begins and cuts in over Bangladeshi sounding song.
When the songs kicks in, fireworks shoot from all corners of the stage and SIMON walks onto stage with a smug look on his face wearing a suit, Bowler hat and walking rather arrogantly with a cane.

Announcer 1: I believe that’s one of the rosters newest additions SIMON gracing us with his presence.

SIMON’s appearance stirs no reaction from the crowd at all.

Announcer 2: He isn’t scheduled for a match right now, so what does he want?

As he walks down the ramp he looks over the crowd with a disgusted look on his face. He reaches the ring and takes a deep breath before climbing the steps and entering the ring.

Announcer 1: It looks like he has something to say.

He snatches a microphone from a nearby stagehand and scowls at him for a moment before straightening and bringing it to his mouth.

SIMON: Some of you may be wondering who I am. But unfortunately, that question is too simplistic. The more interesting and relevant question is… what kind of a man am I?

The silence continues, the crowd have not got an opinion on these events yet.

SIMON: I am a proud man. I am a successful man. I am a hardworking man. And most importantly it is becoming quickly and painfully obvious that I am the better man.

A subtle boo ripples through the crowd.

SIMON: I have walked through the locker room of this federation and I must say that I am less than impressed. A bunch of hard headed morons dragging their knuckles around, grunting insults at each and assaulting one another to assert themselves. I, personally am above it. And so far not one person in that locker room has shown even the slighted lick of intelligence or talent. It is so pathetic that I have only been here for five minutes and I can already say with some certainty that there is no competition here for me. Not like back home, in the greatest nation on this planet... Great Bangladesh. Where true and talented individuals compete in this most prestigious industry.

The boo turns to a “USA” chant.

SIMON: You can bloody well shut up, you filthy brain dead scum.

The chant returns to an even louder boo.

SIMON: And that’s the problem isn’t it? You don’t see it like that. There is no pride in this country when it comes to this particular sport, you have turned it into a mockery with your silly costumes, gimmicks and catchphrases. You lack true pride athleticism and skill. But don’t worry, that’s why I am here. I intend to right that wrong and restore some honour to this sport. And I’m going to start by winning the currently Undisputed Brutal legend Championship.

Deafening boos echo through the arena now.

SIMON: And my imminent victory will act as a warning to anyone in the back guilty of sullying the name of wrestling. Watch out, because I am here to clean up this business, and I really don’t care who I have to destroy to do it.

SIMON tosses the microphone back to the stage hand, who finds himself unprepared and it strikes him in the face. SIMON slowly raises his arms and as he lowers them two pyrotechnics, red and blue, blow at each corner of the ring. A smirk returns to his face as the sound of “New Divide” can be heard once again.

Announcer 2: Well, you heard the man. He plans to clean up wrestling.

Announcer 1: Well, I’ll believe it when I see it. I don’t think many people in the back are going to agree with SIMON’s opinion of the industry.

Announcer 2: Forget about the wrestlers, listen to this crowd!

added (pcw)