The Heart Attacks are alive...Maybe?

The words “An Experience of Heart” rolls across the screen on a black background in white lettering, as we now join the team formally known as The Heart Attacks, with the AWB the tag team titles perfectly placed on the glass table in front of the camera.

Hart: Check it here home slice, its clear that I don’t like you, Its clear that you want this title right here!

Hart rubs the Heavyweight championship

Hart: But I aint some damn dropout who isn’t gonna fulfill what needs to be done! Even if I have to tag up with your sorry ass!

Tails is about to speak

Hart: Don’t say a damn word! Just Smile and wave, you’ll get your chance to speak! Now Im not looking to forfeit these titles, especially not to a team like the Odd Couple! So whatever is going down over on the Breakdown side of the JWF, stays over there…Im keeping these titles…And come tomorrow night, I want you to know that Im giving it my all, and I got your back…Understand?

Tails: You better! Im not fucking around here Hart. Yo better keep your end of this bargain, Im not looking to lose these titles, and Im not looking to get nailed with another HEART ATTACK!

Hart: You got my word.

Tails: To bad you word means shit to me!

Tails grabs his half of the AWB tag-title and storms out of the room.

Hart: The Kid still has a lot of growing up to do.

He shakes his head

Hart: There you have it folks, in a nutshell, The Hart Attacks will hold there own come tomorrow night, And we will put the Odd Couple in their place. That place? A dark, grey… boring hole of mediocrity and that’s all they will ever know. It was all they were born for. It only took the old guard to finally show them their path and their role in the grand scheme of things. Mere subjects on a land created out of our blood, sweat and tears.
And these two freaks of a team will find out, what happens when your not playing nice with the best damn tag-team ever!

He rubs his chin

Hart: You See, this is what happens to people that underestimate us. That’s what happens to people that want to sit there, shake their heads and roll their eyes every time we tell you the absolute truth about the Heart Attacks.

When you don’t believe in the golden team?

We humiliate you.

When you don’t believe in the Heart Attacks?

We cast you into the darkness.

When you don’t believe in the 1st AWB tag-team champions?

We destroy everything you thought you stood for.

When you don’t believe in the Heart Attacks?

We snatch away the world you thought you knew and we show you the truth. That world? It was ours all along. We’re just taking back every last bit of it one at a time. We’re taking back what’s owed.

If you don’t believe it? We make you believe.

This is what the Heart Attacks are all about and it doesn’t matter who you are, you can’t stop it.”

Hart picks up his half of the AWB tag title

:Hart: What can I say? Doing research on a team made up of a Sex-o-holic and a drunken Scot is about as useful as a Shit flavored lollypop, and let’s be honest here, are these guys threats to the likes of us? The current Heavyweight champion… names that will live on for an eternity… and we’re going against guys fuckin’ called the Odd Couple?!

My kids could kick these guys asses, and their two months old!

Hart looks over at the door where tails walked out.

Hart: Do you see this face? Yeah, this is my serious face now. I hope it makes you happy, you know… since I live to make you happy. You know, like a cook slaving over a hot stove, only this job title is called a the man who carries the tag team titles!

Anyways… back to business. Let’s be serious here. The reason these two became a team is because apart they didn’t do a damn thing in the JWF!

The fact is I’m going to meet you two in the ring for the first time Wensday night as you stand on the other side looking at me in awe, because on that night? This is your break; you’ve hit the big time the both of yea, because you’re stepping in the ring with REAL stars.

See, boys… only one option awaits you Wednesday. You’ll sit in the back and put a needle in each other’s ass cheeks to keep up the muscle definition. Your jobberiffic production music will then annoyingly blare over the PA as you make your way out to a doom that deep down in your hearts you know you can’t stop. Yet, you’ll try and fight it, and like the past, and the future opponents that await, you’ll fail. Do you know why, guys?

Yeah, you know why…

Static