When We Ride On Our Enemies (o2a)

[Kenji Katana]

An unfamiliar piano beat kicks in. Some words that can't be made out are said, then:
This is what it sounds like... when we ride on our enemies..

The crowd could instantly tell the type of person who would use this theme, but said nothing until the man stepped out from behind the guerilla position. He was in his ring gear, with a leather jacket, and his towel around his neck. He had been partially absent the past couple weeks, for reasons unknown. Kenji rolled his neck as he started to walk to the ring, pyro booming off behind him. He started flexing his muscles, for a lack of a better term, when he got near the ring.

Now label this my trickshot, my lyrics runnin' all you niggas outta hip hop, when we RIDE on our enemies

Kenji smirked, it was obvious this was a song he really enjoyed. He looked on both sides of the ring to see the fans, pretty much hating him. One fan called him a "wanna-be black man". Heh. That comment made him laugh. If he had lived the life Kenji had, the only thing he would "wanna-be" was not saying this shit to Kenji right now. He would know just how unstable of a man, and how violent of a man Kenji was, and shut the fuck up. He cracked a smirk and hopped up into the ring and onto the apron.

As you all know, I haven't been here recently. Everyone else has been busy cept for me right? Cruise FINALLY won the title back. Ol Matthias Marlf-uckin' Cheater lost his PRIDE title, but now is challenging for the World Title. Manor got his ass beat by the so called "DragonSlayer", and yet he has no battle scars. Hm... something's fishy about that.

Kenji paces around the room, looking down at the ring the whole time.

And that leaves me. You all wanna know where I've been right? Wanna know where the REAL Dragon's been since that fake ass mofucka disappeared. Prolly went into the sunlight and burned up or something.
But anyways, back to me. You all wanna know where I been right?

The crowd booed and yelled out no simultaneously. A smirk once again came across Kenji's face, and he laughed.

That's good, 'cuz I wasn't gonna tell you dumb bitches anyways.

The word " dumb bitches" sent the crowd into a frenzy, they were used to being called worse, but coming from Kenji, that absolutely pissed them off. A couple people tried to hop the guard rail, and were greeted by security and a long walk to outside of the arena. The camera shifts back to Kenji in the ring, who was still smiling, this was obviously fun for him. Security walked up to him and did a cutthroat motion, as to stop what he was doing, and he was met with a swift roundhouse kick that sent him spiraling out of the ring. The other security was too busy trying to calm the crowd, as it seemed like all hell was about to break loose. It was at this time that another theme hit the PA System, which sent the crowd into a happy place. They thought the darkness that was Kenji was about to be quelled. Heh, if they only knew how wrong they were.

[Sean McCartney]

A very unfamiliar theme, as it would turn out. Killswitch Engage's "End of Heartache", which could only beg the question - who exactly was coming from the backstage and out? The prayers and questions were soon to be answered, as he emerged from the curtain, a mic in hand. Red pants and a stern look, his hair a deeper shade than his trousers, he stood at the top of the ramp - ice cold stare down at Kenji. If one thing was for certain, this man really didn't seem the type who wanted to listen.

A smirk crept across his face, and that was him off, heading toward the right in one, sharp burst. The crowd didn't even catch his attention, all they did was add a little more emphasis to his entrance. Sliding under the bottom rope, he pushed off the floor and stood upright, getting right in and close, staring eye to eye with Kenji, near enough forehead to forehead, if it wasn't that he he needed his arm to speak into the mic.

"Really? That's meant ta impress anyone? You've not been around, but ya think ya deserve a standin' ovation? A title shot, a pat on the back an' told you're just that tough? Man, if that's the way you wanna play that line, then you're gonna need to step up, an' prove it. See, fact of the matter is..Kenji, was it? You're a wash up, a has been, a nobody, and even if I'm not well known here? It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the difference here in who the tough guy is? I'm not out here talkin' a big game. I'm out here, tellin' you that if you wanna be tough? You gotta prove it - an trust me, I'll show you what 'tough' is."

Taking a step back, he shifts on his feet, staring across at Kenji as he hopped a little, arms by his side and a light grin. Unknown name? Maybe, but he sure as hell had balls and spirit on his side. Bringing the mic back to his mouth, Sean simply grinned, beginning to pace the ring back and forth - his stare focused on the man before him however. Definitely not making the mistake of letting his guard down and taking his eyes off an otherwise dangerous man.

"Now, before I leave ya to respond, talk a loada shit, tell the world how yer a bad, bad man an' how yer oh so fuckin' scary, lemmie tell you a wee bit, about me. Am Sean. Sean McCartney. From Glasgow, fought, brawled, punched, kicked, dropped and slammed more names than ya know. Blood? Doesn't scare me. My own blood? Spurs me on. I scrap, I fight, I bleed and I cut - I push more than yer gonna be able to handle, so before ya throw out any threat, any retaliation, lemmie make myself perfectly clear. Yer type? They don' scare me, 'cause all they can do is tell me all the shit they're gonna do, before I fuck 'em up. Ye came out here lookin' for a fight, but I suggest ya think to yerself - who exactly do ye wanna fight? 'Cause it can be said, right here, right now, hands to the table, cross mah heart, hope to die, stitch up mah own eyes and cut yer heart out - the person ya wanna fight? Sure as hell ain't me. So, lemmie reiterate this - ye've been gone for far too long, ye mean nothing ta anyone, ye lost yer shot, yer chance, an ye outran the sell-by-date. Yer out, man. So who exactly, do ye think ya are?"

[Kenji Katana]

A wee bit? A wee bit mate, yo'r gonna tell me how yo'r lot griw up in Scotland and fought off angry ba' men every night aye?

He wasn't sure how he did it, but he managed to pull off an almost perfect scottish accent. A smile crossed his face as the man seemed to get irritated at Kenji's disrespect of his culture. He walked over to the ropes and clapped for the man, before swiftly turning around & getting into his face.

Listen here bitch. I don't know you, I don't know your agenda or why the fuck you're out here. You don't have to be intimidated by me, I don't care, but one thing is for sure. You aint gonna come out here and talk shit and not expect to getcha ass beat. So either you "throw up dem knucks, aye" and fight me, or just stand there and getcha ass whooped, it's up to you.

[Sean McCartney]

As Kenji pulled the impression of his accent - one which Sean himself would say was lacking, but Kenji would probably tell him it was perfect - Sean rubbed his chin for a moment, contemplating the situation. He peered away for a moment, bouncing his head from left to right, considering and thinking about it all, before he brought the mic back up to his lips.

"I choose..bring it."

Stepping up, he presses forehead to forehead, staring eye to eye with Kenji, his grin unfading. He wasn't backing down, that much was clear, and he seemed as ready as it came to having a fight. His amber eyes kept their fixated stare on Kenji's - intense, relentless focus as he pressed right up, head to head, toe to toe.

"Ya want a fight? I'm gonna give ya a fuckin' fight yer never gonna forget. Yer nothin' but an overgrown gecko bitch, red-dragon my fuckin' arse. Ye'll be on the deck faster than a brick hits the floor after ya drop it.."

[Kenji Katana]

Hmph, whatever you say, bring it bitch.

Kenji threw the mic, and his his jacket to the outside f the ring & prepared for a fight.