iLike wanted me to post this for him so here it is people.
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Following the match between JHalc and Drake Dysfunction, Drake is walking up the ramp to the back when the music of Hitman Alex begins to play over the PA system. The fans in the arena immediately send out a resounding series of boos, showing their distaste for the reigning World Champion. As he steps into view, slowly coming from around the corner, another steps out at his side. He’s not alone.
Ted Cedar: What—What is this Dennis? Dante Cross is coming down the ramp with the World Champion!
Adam Dennis: I think we’re about to get the answer to that soon enough Ted.
Drake watches from the middle of the ramp as the three men come into view. Hitman Alex, championship on his shoulder and Dante Cross at his side. Cross’ brother Kris brings up the rear, trailing behind the duo. The crowd lets loose a roar of catcalls and insults at a combination that would make even the sweetest mouth sour. The two men in the lead take their time coming down the ramp, matching half smiles upon their faces as they come. Drake stands fast when Hitman and Dante step towards him. His body tenses, his fingers flex, tightening around the Intercontinental title held in his hand, while his free hand goes in and out, grasping air, forming a fist.
Cross and Alex in front of Drake now, they share a glance at one another. Without warning, Hitman Alex’s hand swings out. Drake’s own hand goes forward as well. A sly smile forming on Hitman Alex’s face, a serious demeanor on that of Drake. They shake.
Ted Cedar: They’re…Drake…Hitman Alex? What’s going on here?!
Adam Dennis: I dunno if you get this or not Ted, but I’m not in on whatever is going on with these guys. I don’t know anything either.
At seeing the two men shake hands on the entrance ramp, the fans in the arena burst into a new outcry of boos. Releasing his grasp on Alex, Drake stepped aside and allowed Alex and Dante to pass. He flings his championship over his shoulder and takes his place at Alex’s left side. They continue on to the ring, Dante taking the steps at the side while Drake climbs the turnbuckle from the outside, meanwhile Hitman Alex climbs onto the apron and slowly steps into the ring. All three men meet in the center, Kris hanging back on the outside, giving them the spotlight. Dante beckons for a mic and receives it. He steps out and looks to the camera.
Dante Cross: I’ve said it for weeks. I’ve said it for weeks and now…
He let the words hang as he paced the mic to Hitman Alex.
Hitman Alex: Last week, I faced and lossed to Takumi Sanu. Now I’m not a man who goes sour about a loss, but only if it’s a fair loss. Last week, Takumi Sanu and Dominik strategized and plotted together so that I was put into a position of false advances, allowing my guard to be put down enough for Takumi to get the victory. I don’t care what anyone says or what those two do out here every week, you’re not going to tell me that every time Dominik interfered in that match, it did the opposite of what it looked like it was meant to do, and ended up hurting me. Now, to some it may have seemed like Dominik was trying to get Takumi to lose, but after countless interferences by him, who left that ring victorious last week? Takumi that’s who.
Hitman, visibly ticked, passes the mic to Drake.
Drake Dysfunction: With all the talk of losses, Hitman Alex last week, our fellow Dante over there came on the short end as well sadly—but that doesn’t matter, what matters is what is drawing ever closer. King of Xtreme, KoX, it’s just around the corner and the question on everyone’s mind is not ‘Who’s going to be the new King of Xtreme’—no one cares about that. What the people want to know, what the people care about…is who is going to walk out of King of Xtreme…World…Heavyweight…Champion?
He let it sink in for the crowd, a grin playing across his face.
Drake Dysfunction: That’s what’s on everyone’s mind, that’s what they all want to know! I’ll give you the answer right now…Whether it’s myself or Hitman Alex, the World title isn’t leaving the Legion’s grasp that night. We’ll keep the World title, we’ll keep this Intercontinental title around my waist. Hell, until recently, we also held the RSD belt, and when the chink and the wetback settle their issue with the tag team titles, you best believe, we’ll take those as well.
Inflamed by the derogatory comment made by Drake, the audience is in an uproar. Dante gives a slow clasp at Drake’s speech. Dysfunction passes him the mic.
Dante Cross: No matter the day, no matter the week, the match, the opponent, none of it matters. What matters is that it’s been a long time coming, but we’ve finally arrived. My contemporaries and I have been plotting this for months now, and the fruits of our labor stand before you, a World Heavyweight Champion and an Intercontinental Champion. There’s strength in numbers, and with these belts as a testament, our numbers are worth their weight in gold.
Alex nudges Dante and receives the mic. He steps out from the group amid the volley of boos.
Hitman Alex: Listen up! We don’t care if you hate us, but you damn well will respect us.
This does not go over well with the crowd. Hitman Alex points to his and Drake’s belts in turn.
Hitman Alex: This around my waist—this around Drake’s waist—we are the top of this company. We’re the reason you turn on your television. We’re the reason you sit in those seats. Whether you love us or hate us, you still pay to see us.
He backs away to stand between the other two with Dante taking the mic. The camera draws close, zooming in on Dante as he squats down and stares into the camera.
Dante Cross: We are the first, and we are the last. We are few, but we are many. We are Legion…
His voice goes low, a whisper, carrying a foreboding dark undertone.
“…and we’re coming for you.”
Subject: Promo: Hitman Alex Promo 
