Hey guys, usually dont look for feedback as I dont expect someone to read an entire RP, but my first rp in over two years now, if you have the time I'd like to hear feedback. It was a little long, probably 2 thousand words longer than I usually aim for, but with the big TFWF card, and such a long time away I felt I needed to elaborate to the story I created, with trying to be as concise as possible.
Anyways, here we go;
Tuesday, June 3, 2012. 2:45pm.
Rexall Health Center, Montreal
â€œSo yeah, I think it was just lack of hydration when I was taking my pre-workout supplements doc, Iâ€™ve gotten Kidney stones from this shit before. Just get me the piss bucket and letâ€™s pass this cocksucker.â€ I said to Dr. Stevens as I clutched my stomach.
â€œWell given your previous cases with me Cory, I had the staff run a CT scan just as a precaution and weâ€™ve actually found something, we-â€œ Dr. Stevens started to announce just before I cut him off in a shock.
â€œWhat the fuck do you mean you found something? I treat my body like a temple and Iâ€™m in impeccable shape.â€ I stated.
â€œWeâ€™ve found Hepatocellular carcinoma in your liver Cory.â€ He said.
â€œHepta-what? That sounds like the main ingredient in an energy drink.â€ I said sarcastically, yet very confused.
â€œItâ€™s cancer in your liver....and from the results it appears youâ€™ve been living with this for the better part of the year. Usually it starts out slow and then grows and spreads, and the fact that this virus has taken almost all of your liver over isnâ€™t good at all Cory. Usually thereâ€™s only a ten to twenty percent chance that we could operate and remove it completely.â€ Said Dr. Stevens.
I really wanted to start to hit the doctor, how in the fuck could this happen? Was this all a big joke being played on me or something? Iâ€™ve always been healthy even back in my wrestling days. Such a high volume of emotions were running through my veins right now. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, I wanted to knock doctor Stevens head off his fucking shoulders, I wanted to fall down and cry, and most of all I wanted to rid me of this disease. If that meant I had to claw it out of my own body then thatâ€™s what I needed to fucking do.
â€œNow we can start chemotherapy, attack the virus in your liver directly and try and stop it from growing as best as we could, but at this stage there is no possible way that would could remove the virus from your body completely. Weâ€™re far past a liver transplant. Now many people have been diagnosed with this form of cancer and through the great support programs that we offer here-â€œ I cut Dr. Stevens off.
â€œCut the bullshit doctorâ€ I said, as I took a deep breath and held back my tears. â€œHow long â€˜till I die?â€.
Death has been something that I have never feared. I always told myself that I was prepared when it was time to meet my maker. I lived my time on this earth, accomplished just about everything that I have ever set out to accomplish, and when it was time for me to leave, Cory Rawllonds has left his mark on this world. From wrestling legend, to a short, but successful acting career, I really did anything and everything I wanted and succeeded. But now that death is on my front door it feels like Iâ€™ve only just started on my journey of life, and that I have so much more left to do. Iâ€™ve never found my true love, Iâ€™ve never conceived a child to carry on my family name, and I never got around to making my comeback to the wrestling ring, returning to the thing that I excelled at most in this life.
I held my breath as I stared at the doctorsâ€™ lips as he responded.
â€œItâ€™s really hard to say Cory, with proper treatment you could live up to two years; you could pass away in two months. Itâ€™s still really hard to accurately gauge how far along the virus is. I highly suggest that you start chemo as soon as possible and take it from there.â€ He said.
Iâ€™ve heard all the stories about people that go into chemotherapy. You lose your hair, which well Iâ€™ve never had any to begin with so that wouldnâ€™t affect me any, but the pure suffering you do, many say that its worth just to go peacefully when itâ€™s your time and give up to the disease rather than fight it.
â€œSign me up.â€
Iâ€™ve been a fucking fighter my whole life. From my childhood living with an abusive older brother and having to defend myself, all the way to my professional wrestling career, always being viewed as an underdog, having to earn and take everything that I ever achieved in the business. There is no way that Iâ€™m going to let this virus to get the victory over Cory Rawllonds. Iâ€™m going to kick its fucking ass until it begs me to stop, and then Iâ€™ll give it a few more hay-makers.
Wednesday, June 25, 2012. 10:34am.
Rexall Health Center, Montreal
â€œOkay Mr. Rawllonds, just relax and let the medicine do its workâ€ the Nurse said as she finished setting up the catheter into my abdomen.
â€œThanksâ€ I said as I nodded my head to the young woman as she went on with the rest of her morning rounds.
I had been just three long ass weeks since I started this chemotherapy. Iâ€™ve had a fucking tooth ache since about the second week in, Iâ€™m as pale as an Addams family member, my dick has about as much life as Michael Jackson, and Iâ€™ve been puking my guts up about every other hour for twenty fucking days now. Maybe I should have listened to the preconceived notions I had about chemo and just let this virus run its course and leave this world a shadow of the man that I used to be.
The pouring support that I have gotten over social media has been huge. My followers on twitter have doubled and the support have been huge, even if half of them are only fair-weather fans and just feel bad for me, it still feels nice that the people Iâ€™ve met through wrestling still remember who I am. Fuck, even last week on Facebook I had ex girlfriends willing to fly up to Canada and give me sympathy sex, but you know, having some hardware issues down there so I had to respectfully decline. You know I never really used the computer a whole lot until now, where Iâ€™m fucking stuck in this recliner five hours a day, itâ€™s the only thing that helps me keep my sanity in this four walled hell. Fuck, Iâ€™ve even been creeping up on old enemies from back in the day, seeing what guys like Nick Stevenson and Brandon Thornton have been up too. I donâ€™t know, maybe I shouldnâ€™t been thinking too much about my past, and keep focused on the future and surviving. I donâ€™t know, all I do know is.....
Wednesday, June 25, 2012. 1:02pm.
Rexall Health Center, Montreal
â€œMr. Rawllonds, please wake up.â€ A voice said. I opened my eyes to see the overweight support therapist pushing on my shoulder trying to wake me up.
â€œ....fuck off......give me a minute....â€ I said, barley coherent.
â€œCory, wake up. Youâ€™re already five minutes late for support. Youâ€™re holding the entire group up; now the Nurse removed the catheter twenty minutes ago, so youâ€™re good to go. Let me help you up.â€ He said as he offered out his hand and I grabbed it, lifting me to my feet.
I felt sick to my stomach again, but there wasnâ€™t a garbage can nearby. I could just puke all over this fat fuck, payback from waking me up from my sleep, but whatever. Iâ€™ll try my best to hold this shit in and get through this session so I can just go the fuck home and get in bed. He led me into a bright room where a group of people were sitting in a circle, like a fucking Alcoholics Anonymous meeting or something. I hated going to these things, but Dr. Stevens highly recommended this shit, since I was living on my own and have really no one to talk to, it would help my treatment. I took a seat away from every else, and laid back in my chair, closing my eyes.
â€œAlright now that Mr. Rawllonds is here we can start.â€ Said the therapist, as I faded into unconsciousness once again.
â€œMr. Rawllonds, how do you feel about Tracyâ€™s situation?â€ a voice said, as I quickly opened my eyes and looked around at this group of people all staring at me. I didnâ€™t even really have fucking idea where I was, or even what to say.
â€œuhhhh, could you repeat the question?â€ I said, like the druggie in high school who never paid attention in class. Much like a person like that, I didnâ€™t want to be here. I felt as almost I was forced to be here when Iâ€™d rather be outside smoking some medical marijuana and trying to not feel sick to my stomach.
For the remainder of the class I just kept my mouth quiet and tried to stay awake, listening to all of these poor saps stories, about the risk of losing their kids or their wife, to leaving loved ones with bills and shit like that. Blah fucking blah. When the therapist said the session was over, I filed right behind the lady with the brain tumour on the train to get the fuck out of here, when the therapist stopped me.
â€œCory, Iâ€™d like to speak with you please.â€ He said, as I gave him an intimidating stare while looking at his hand that remained on my shoulder that you used to stop me from leaving me.
â€œYou got two seconds to get your hands off me or weâ€™ll have a problem on our hands.â€ I said as he quickly removed his hand as I followed him back into the room and took a seat in front of him.
â€œNow Cory, to get the most out of these sessions you really need to participate. Dr. Stevens informed me that you donâ€™t have anyone else living with you at home or any close family in the country, so letting your feelings out in these sessions will really help your treatment. Withholding all of you anger, sadness, and feelings will only make things worse.â€ He said.
â€œI feel sick all the fucking time, I canâ€™t get hard and capitalize on all the sympathy fucks Iâ€™ve been offered and Iâ€™m slowly dying. Thatâ€™s about all I feel right now.â€ I replied as I started to get out of my seat, before the therapist put his hand out again to stop me.
â€œThatâ€™s not going to cut it Cory. I see cases like you all the time, where people just give some smart ass answer in groups, just so they donâ€™t come off as soft or weak in front of other people. Thatâ€™s exactly what youâ€™re doing here, and Iâ€™m calling bullshit. â€œ he said.
â€œListen, Iâ€™m not withholding anything and this is all bullshit. You canâ€™t force me to stay and listen to your feel better bullshit. This Liberal fucking program, trying to sugar coat the fact that Iâ€™m dying, itâ€™s nothing more than another employment exploitation program. You spend eighty thousand of daddiesâ€™ dollars going to medical school, you finish and there are no jobs and rather than having to work hard to achieve success, you get a bullshit job like cancer help group therapist that does nothing but tell people what they want to here. Iâ€™m fucking out of here man...â€ I said as I grabbed my bag and stood out of my chair and made my way to the door.
â€œSo you know my life story, but I guess yours is just a mystery, Cory Hatred.â€ He said.
Cory Hatred. A name I havenâ€™t heard in years now, a name that I believe I had left in the states, thatâ€™s why I moved back to Canada. A name to me that now represents failure. After I lost to Fallen Angel three years ago, I decided to hang up my boots and leave my wrestling persona behind. If I couldnâ€™t beat him, there was nothing left for me in that business. Iâ€™ve always prided myself on being a guy who if you canâ€™t stay and compete with the top elite guys, you need to get the fuck out of town. Regardless of that decision, how in the fuck did this guy know my past? I shouldnâ€™t have any links in my personal files that I was a professional wrestler or anything like that.
â€œWhat did you just say?â€ I asked, as I quickly turned around and stared directly into the therapistâ€™s eyes.
â€œAhhh, we found a weaknessâ€ he said.
â€œI asked you a question dumb fuck, what did you just say?â€ I repeated myself as I started to walk back towards the therapist with a menacing look on my face.
â€œWhy have you been trying to hide your past Mr Rawllonds?â€ he asked.
â€œI havenâ€™t been hiding shit.â€ I replied as I maintained eye contact.
â€œThey why did Cory Hatred set you off there? If you werenâ€™t hiding it then you should have been fine with me bringing it up. Rather, you lashed out at me, trying to intimidate me into dropping the topic, which only leads me to believe that thereâ€™s something we need to talk about.â€ He said.
â€œWe donâ€™t need to talk about shit.â€ I quickly said, as I was getting prepared to leave now before this prick pisses me off to the point of assaulting him.
â€œCory, dealing with cancer is a stressful thing, something no one should ever have to go through alone. When people are staring death in the face they canâ€™t help but think about the past, and I believe thatâ€™s whatâ€™s happening with you. Youâ€™re currently showing lots of tendencies that people show when they get depression. Cory, your unwillingness to participate in group, your lack of communication with fellow chemotherapy patients, and constantly trying to isolate yourself from everyone and everything around you. Thatâ€™s why I started to do some research about you and found out your the famous wrestler Cory Hatred. At one time you were the king of the wresting world, a heavily sponsors athlete with movie deals and supermodel girlfriends. Now, youâ€™re just another random Joe walking up and down the streets of Montreal, no glory, no sponsors, and no models. Reflecting back on a successful path without any help is a dangerous thing, but when you add in the stress of death and chemotherapy Cory well youâ€™re almost a ticking time bomb in there. You need to open up to me, Iâ€™m a professional.â€ He said as he finished his pitch to try and make me stay. By this point I had already taken a seat and was thinking about my past.
â€œYou know you would think I miss it every day or something, but honestly I donâ€™t. The money, the power, the respect was great, but there was never any time to truly relax. Youâ€™re on the road three hundred and sixty five days of the year. There was never any time to start a family and really settle down.â€ I said.
â€œYou donâ€™t have any of that now.....youâ€™re not married, you donâ€™t have any kids.â€ He said.
â€œI didnâ€™t say I havenâ€™t been trying to get those things. I mean look at me. Before I was some old broken down retired wrestler, who every morning struggled to get up from bed because my back and my knees were hurting so bad I could scream. Now Iâ€™m that with cancer. No oneâ€™s going to want to get married and start a family with a man whoâ€™s on his last ride.â€ I said, as I tried my hardest to restrain myself from becoming emotional.
â€œWell did you ever really assess what you REALLY wanted?â€ he asked, as I looked at him confused.
â€œWhat? Are you saying that Iâ€™ve been lying to myself?â€ I said.
â€œYour words not mine.â€ He said with a smug look on his face. The kind you just wanted to cut off with a saw blade.
â€œLike I said I hardly ever think about my wrestling past. Iâ€™ve done just about everything there was to do, and I felt like I left while I was on top, and didnâ€™t stick around like these old fucks you see in the ring today. Wrestling for a pay check to pay off their old gambling debts.â€ I said.
â€œHARDLY. JUST ABOUT. Sounds to me like thereâ€™s been something missing from your career. I honestly have no idea what that would be, as what Iâ€™ve done with your case probably hasnâ€™t been done before. No therapist digs into their patientâ€™s history to try and bring something out; itâ€™s not common practice and is quite frankly an invasion of privacy. The fact that our case is so severe with the cancer and your apparent entrance into a depressive state, I felt obligated to dig a bit deeper into your case.â€ He said, as I once again looked at him confused.
â€œ...so you Googled me?â€ I replied.
â€œMuch more than that Cory. Since I noticed your lack of engagement with the focus groups two weeks ago I started to talk with Dr. Stevens and gather as much information about you as possible. When I found out you had a famous past I started to search on the internet and see what I could find. Now correct me if Iâ€™m wrong, but the last bit of information I could find onâ€˜Cory Hatredâ€™ was a PWR vs TFWF pay per view in which you suffered a defeat to a man known as Fallen Angel? Is this correct. And I also found that you-.....â€
Fallen Angel. A name that I tried to erase from my memory and the one true defeat that really affected the way that I performed my job. I kicked the shit out of that guy for half an hour and he still walked away with the victory. I must have broken multiple bones, given him internal injuries, and he still walked out the victor. After that loss I lost all motivation to tie up my wrestling boots and toss my mouthpiece in and step into the ring, and ultimately decided to retire from the sport that I love most in my life. I hadnâ€™t once thought about him from the day I hung up my boots until now. I donâ€™t even know if heâ€™s still in TFWF, but what I wouldnâ€™t do now to get my hands on him again, my hands on TFWF gold, the one thing Iâ€™ve never achieved. Now with my life really up for grabs I may never get this chance to be in the ring with Fallen Angel, or to even claim TFWF gold.
â€œYou know how you just said there was something missing from my career; I think you were on to something fat ass. I never really thought about it until you mentioned the name Fallen Angel but Iâ€™ve always had huge amount of success everywhere I went. I was a HiWF legend, world champion, hall of famer, all of that. I was a PWR champion and legend. However, Iâ€™ve never really accomplished ANYTHING in TFWF. I had an amazing match with Fallen Angel and thatâ€™s about it. I never won a championship, and I never really performed at a high level there. I think that when people think about Cory Hatred, regardless of all my other accolades, theyâ€™ll remember my failure to stand out in the biggest company in the world, and that bothers me.â€ I said.
â€œDo you think that winning a title or getting acclaimed there would complete your career?â€ he asked.
I thought long and hard about all of the accolades I had achieved. Winning the HiWF World Heavyweight championship and going from the jobber that everyone laughed at to five long years later being the top wrestler in the entire world. Helping with the creation of PWR, and being the pioneer for that company and being the reason why it is where it is today. When I think about TFWF I remember my first failed run there when I was just starting out and being released just after a month on the job, god I was awful.
1.......2.........3..............and the winnneerrr issss FALLEN ANGEL!!!!
I remember that loss. I remember having my shoulder blades flat on the mat for three whole seconds and my entire career changed. I didnâ€™t know a guy being better than me for three seconds made him the better fighter. Fallen Angel has the complete career that I so desire. The career of Cory Hatred never really came full swing, and I think the lack of success in the TFWF is what I need to complete my illustrious career.
â€œYes, I believe if I could find success in the TFWF that my career would come full swing. Itâ€™s the only thing that has ever eluded me in my time as a wrestler, and my only regrets come from the moments I spent in a TFWF wrestling ring. But it doesnâ€™t matter anyway, I mean look at me. Iâ€™m fucking dying, my skins pale as fuck and I canâ€™t go more than five minutes without seeing what I ate for dinner all over the floor in front of me.â€ I said, as even thinking about the chemotherapy made my stomach ache.
â€œWhatâ€™s stopping you Cory? I mean, youâ€™ve never faced adversity before? Look at Lance Armstrong, he trained while going through something similar to you and look at all of the success that he has had.â€ He said.
â€œAre you fucking kidding me?â€ I asked, finding it hard to believe what this licensed doctor was telling me.
â€œFrom my point of view you have nothing left to lose. Sure training while doing chemo will be incredibly tough, but you could reduce the treatment and would still be able to train close to one hundred percent I believe. We could reduce you appointments from four times a week to once, and youâ€™d be able to train at like eighty percent. Thatâ€™s enough to get back in shape and let your natural talent handle the rest.â€ He said.
â€œIf I get less treatment, Iâ€™ll just die quicker.â€ I said, as the level of professionalism in the therapist was declining at a faster rate than my sex drive from the chemo.
â€œWhat are you fucking waiting for anyways, to die alone? From my perspective go out there and be remembered Cory, not shrivel away into non-existence like a worm on the sidewalk on a hot day. Shock the world and return to the wrestling ring after two years of absence and take the world by storm. Return to the TFWF and become there Heavyweight Champion. Not only for yourself, but for everyone struggling with cancer out there in the world today. If you could do the impossible, youâ€™ll be remembered for ever, not just by US Cory Hatred fans, but by people battling this disease all over the world!â€ he said, as he stood up out of his chair and preached at me. You could see the adrenaline running thought his fat little body and a line of sweat form on his forehead from the pure intensity he was delivering his speech with.
â€œWait, did you just say â€™US Cory Hatred fansâ€™.â€ I asked with a confused look on my face, as the therapist wiped the sweat off his forehead and sat back down, trying to regain some level of professionalism.
â€œYes Cory I did say that. I MAY have known who you were all along, and I may have specially requested you to be in my cancer support group.â€ He said.
â€œSo youâ€™re like, stalking me or something?â€ I asked, as he gave me a shocked look.
â€œNo no no no. Listen, the news of you getting cancer has spread like wildfire through the wrestling message boards, and when I heard you were in Montreal, I knew I had to get you in one of my support groups. Fuck, I thought you disappeared off the face of this earth. I know I canâ€™t speak for every wrestling fan, but the wrestling scene needs Cory Hatred, the TFWF needs Cory Hatred. They just finished their epic Death or Glory 2012 and the time is now.â€ He said.
â€œI donâ€™t know man.â€ I said, now realizing this was no longer a professional who was here to help me with accepting i have cancer, but just another wrestling fan.
â€œWhat do you have to lose, honestly? If life really worth living if you have to hide your identity because you donâ€™t want to be noticed out in public, or because you donâ€™t want to think about your past because you think of it as a failure? You can die a shadow of the man that you used to be, peacefully in your Montreal loft with no one by your side.....or you can do the Cory Hatred thing. Donâ€™t let this disease to stop you from kicking ass. Be an inspiration for a generation of people living with cancer, shock the world by returning to the TFWF and to claim what is yours, and live everyday like itâ€™s your last. Enter the open Golden Ticket battle royal and earn a title shot. With time NOT being on your side, this is your only chance of completing your career. Youâ€™d go down as a LEGEND.â€ He said.
Iâ€™m starting to think that this crazy mark is right. I donâ€™t want to succumb to this shit and die alone at home. I donâ€™t want my last bit of time on this earth be me struggling to get through chemotherapy and sleeping all of the fucking time. I want to go out the way Cory Hatred would go out, punches going in every direction and fighting till my heart stops pounding.
I grabbed my things and walked out of the room, ignoring the therapistâ€™s constant questions of whether Iâ€™m going to do it or not. By the time I was sitting in my car in traffic on my way home I could only imagine what the wrestling world was going through. If that mark was telling the truth and there really was that big of a buzz about me getting cancer, lord only knows whatâ€™s happening after my last tweet.
@TFWF â€“Iâ€™ve got my golden ticket for life......and for Thunderâ€™s title.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012. 8:55pm
Rawllonds Residence, Montreal
It had been two long weeks of training. The reduce chemotherapy sessions defiantly made things easier on my body. I went from throwing up five times a day down to one, two if I was doing a cardio session in the gym. As far as getting back into wrestling shape was concerned it wasnâ€™t difficult. Iâ€™ve always stayed in elite shape; it was overcoming the muscle loss that I acquired from the chemo. I was back to a healthy two twenty-five and looking as intimidating as ever before.
It was so refreshing being able to stop the routine or waking up, throwing up, chemo for five hours, throwing up and repeat. Hitting the punching bags, lifting weights and running was really exhilarating. Training with a goal in mind to not only shock the world and win the Golden Ticket rumble, but to be the face of inspiration for everyone living with cancer. This isnâ€™t a publicity stunt to try and get my name and face out there again because I couldnâ€™t give two shits about the media. Iâ€™ve always had a soft spot for sick children as I too was a very sick baby growing up and to have a role model to look up too is very important. A role model or a hero is something that you canâ€™t really describe unless youâ€™ve been in a life and death situation at a young age. Having someone you watch show strength and courage passes to you, like a photosynthesis reaction or something, and gives you the strength and courage it takes to overcome whatever youâ€™re facing. If I can do that for even just one kid, itâ€™ll all be worth it.
As far as wrestling is concerned, I think I may have blown the Twitter servers up when I made my announcement. Fans, former agents and managers, even past combatants were sending me messages and phone calls wanting to applaud me or try and get in on my final ride. The reception was almost overwhelming, but itâ€™s not people from my past that I was trying to get the message to. My past is what Iâ€™m trying to forget and associating with anyone from my time as a failure would only ruin this return. Iâ€™m one hundred percent focusing on the past and future, and that message I sent out was for everyone else in the Golden Ticket battle royal. I donâ€™t know two thirds of the people competing, nor do I ever want to know. To be honest I never heard of Michael Thunder and heâ€™s probably some little shit who was jobbing pay per views when I was the best in the world, but he holds something that I want. Really when I win the golden ticket it doesnâ€™t matter what un-evolved TFWF â€˜superstarâ€™ holds the belt, theyâ€™ve never seen anything like Cory Hatred and they wonâ€™t be able to handle it.
I hope people like Fallen Angel and Georgie Nickles weâ€™re telling these young punks just who the fuck Cory Hatred was, or at least referring them to the highlight videos on YouTube that showcased my near decade of destruction. Better yet, I hope no one remembers me. I hope that all of these talentless men in underwear view me as some old fuck who is battling cancer and trying to have one last go at the TFWF championship. I hope they view me like a charity case, because when I storm down to the ring at number twenty six in the battle royal, the pain and destruction that Iâ€™m going to inflict would make the survivors of 9/11 tremble in their shoes.
â€œItâ€™s my time.â€
In just a mere few days I would be stepping back into a wrestling ring for the first time in over two years. Iâ€™ll be going all in on my career, risking my life by reducing chemotherapy treatments to try and complete my career. I donâ€™t want to be remembered as the former HiWF and PWR legend that peacefully passed away, no fuck that. I want to be Cory Hatred, TFWF World Heavyweight champion who literally lives every day like itâ€™s his last. When itâ€™s my time to go I want to be remembered as the man who was told his life was over and spit in that doctors face and went on to become the greatest world champion this business has ever seen.
You see, these guys that are the big shots in the company donâ€™t take things as seriously as they did back in my day. In my day you faced the biggest failure in wrestling when you lost, and thatâ€™s was irrelevancy. Good guy, bad guys, the fans would still pay their hard earned money to see you night in, night out. You lose your belt and stop trying, people will stop buying into you and youâ€™re no good to anyone. Guys these days are in there just for the pay-checks. Jack Benevolence loses his world title, he collects six figures and goes on a nice vacation and will challenge for it again in the near future. Thereâ€™s no sense of pride anymore, no sense of going out there every week and refusing to lose. Call it that idiot Monks for giving these â€˜superstarsâ€™ outrageous wages, but I call them cowards.
When I become champion Iâ€™ll be the greatest champion this business has ever seen. It wonâ€™t be â€˜oh if I lose Iâ€™ll just challenge you to a rematch three months down the roadâ€™ because I simply donâ€™t have that pleasure of time. I wonâ€™t be able to take a break and rest on my earnings until I feel ready to try and make a push for the title again, because my future is uncertain and a dead man canâ€™t spend his money. Iâ€™ll go out there every single night like itâ€™s my last, delivering an effort and performance that has never been seen before from any fighter past or present.
Iâ€™m fighting for my pride, my career and my life. There isnâ€™t another man on the face of this earth that is going to stop me.