*The titontron changes from its normal animation to Lionman's locker room, with beanbag chairs, a massive television, fitness magazines (as well as ESPN, Sports Illustrated, and the rest) all over the place. There is also a gaming console set on the ground near the T.V. and empty food packagings all over the room"
Lionman: *looking at his laptop while sitting on a beanbag chair for a 400 pound man with a bag of double stuffed Oreos open and crumbs all over the keyboard "I hate you Wes Welker, screwing over my fantasy team! You're gonna make me lose the league! I put thousands of bucks into that league, and you will not get in the way of my winning it! Sh*t's about to get serious!"
*Clicking a few more time on pages unseen to the camera and general public, Lionman looks up after a pencil comes flying at him, obviously sent from the disgusted cameraman who has been sent into this pigsty. The beast places his computer on the side and looks up, anger spreading through his face like wild fire.
*Seemingly just a moment before the King of the Jungle decides to pull out his finisher on the helpless runt of a camera man, having remembered something of value that he was told before and sits back down, closing his MacBook and setting it to the side, though he does pull the Oreo's a little bit closer to his body, taking two out and eating them before nodding at the camera.*
"They told me you would come, to have me say something or whatever. I always hated in locker room segments, they prevent me from showing real emotion. I mean, you probably have no idea about how it feels to be a wrestler, your biceps are as thick as my pinky, but it is just different when you don't see the audience, there is no adrenalin. It's why I always stayed away from these solo talking thingies as the camera. I know that people are just a few hundred yards away, but I just don't feel there energy. In a way, it is like talking to a wall, ya'know?"
*Appearing to be waiting for the other man in the room to nod, Lionman waits, staring at the guy with the camera until he, intelligently, agrees with the 400 pound beast in the room*
*Seemingly forgetting that the camera is in the room, Lionman appears to start talking to himself, reminiscing about his glory days* "I guess that it was just easier back when I was younger, walking down to the ring, getting psyched up and telling everyone how it was. Now I struggle, it is reality. Though I don't appear to have changed my body has taken a toll, at least that it what I'm being told. Carrying around one fifth of a ton is no easy job, and my fighting style of taking a beating then hitting hard to win the match doesn't help, but what can you do. It is past the time that I can transform myself into an Aaron Rehab or whatever. I am what I am, deal with it.
*Taking another few Oreo's, Lionman stuffs them into his mouth, though chews them with his mouth closed. Over the years he has learned his manners, using the millions he has earned for good, to get an education, to just help the world. But that would be besides the point in his mind, everything in his life related back to winning the strap in a high level promotion*
"It's always been that elusive title belt in the worldwide promotion that has haunted me, once I get that I'll be able to retire happy, as the Hall of Famer I clearly am. I mean, look at the ring on my finger, I already am in one Hall of Fame. I've won countless belts but it is the fact I have never won a title in NICW that bugs me. I've came back for it, in a sense. After I left I felt empty, it was hard knowing I left such a great place with nothing to show for it but a few huge paychecks. My mission was incomplete, you could say. It is why, despite my old age, I know that I will be able to win the belt before I retire.
*Suddenly he becomes serious, forgetting about the earlier disliking that he had for the in-lockerroom interviews*
"You all saw what I did to that newcomer Poundstone, the way his body feel nearly lifeless onto the ground after he became the latest victim of Dead Meat. People were sure that he was going to beat me, but I showed them a classic Lionman match. They thought I was out for the count because I haven't been showing up on TV lately outside the ring, but who do you see on the fans shirts? Me. Who is the greatest legend in this promotion? Me. Who should be champion? Me. Without me, the Beast, The King of The JUNGLE, the King of the plains, the champion of the Sahara, there is no Worldwide NICW, it remains in just a few continents. They pay to see me wrestle. They know I am a legend, a king, they want to see me wrestle all of the time, and not just in meaningless one versus one squash matches, they want me in the G*D D*MN TITLE PICTURE! If management doesn't give them what they want then they will just leave for another place! Watch another legend, someone lesser than I. Why the h*ll I am not in the world title tournament is besides me, so why not put me in? There are three left, why not make it four. They have nothing on me! Now just get out, tell your boss Lionman wants a chance at the world title, even if it is in a bloody ROYAL RUMBLE I don't care. Put me in first, I'll win! I am done waiting on my shot, I WONT WRESTLE anymore till they schedule a match for a number ones contender spot at the least! Tell them that Lionman's hiatus is done. THE BEAST IS BACK AND HE IS HUNGRY FOR SOME DEEEAAADD MEEEAAATT!
*On his feet by the end of the tirade, an older fan can see the rejuvenation in the beast. He is done playing around and eating all day, Lionman means business until he gets a shot. It is the final thing he needs to cement his career as one of the best all time, there is no way he gives up until that moment. The determination is easily seen on his face as the cameraman quickly backs out of the room and the 'tron returns to it's normal NICW looped animation*
