The camera man makes his way into a backwoods gym with a bunch of up and comers training. Off in a corner working over a punching bag is Spencer Watts. His hoodie is duct taped around his wrist and tucked into his sweatpants that are duct taped around the ankles. When he notices the camera man he takes a few drinks of water and sits on the old worn out ring apron.
"You know camera man, I've always wondered how you managed to find all them wrestlers so quick? It don't matter if we're fresh out the showers or home eattin some of grandma's prized peach cobbler, when it comes time to hear from us, there you are! But I'm willin to bet you aint here to talk about yer trade secrets..."
Watts gets up off the apron and gives his back a little twist to stretch out.
"I know yer hear to ask me about my match against the returning Pantaro. Well I tell you what, that's an easy answer... Shouldn't even take a rocket scientist to see I've been hitting the gym harder and runnin the ropes more. I wanna make sure that Pantaro's first match back isn't just us gettin in there and makein sure the best man wins. I know if he's training just as hard as I am for it, it'll be Match of the Year, I'd bet my grandma's best cast iron skillet on it!"
Watts pulls his hood back up and tightens the draw strings.
"All I got to say for Pantaro, is welcome back and may the best man win... Now if you'll excuse me, that southern fried chicken and biscuits aint gonna go away on it's own... If ya know what I mean."Statistics: Posted by Spencer Watts — Tue Feb 20, 2018 11:47 pm
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