The camera fades in on Cort Marshall in the interview room, standing ramrod straight next to Jim Black with a lit cigar in his mouth.
Jim Black: Today we introduce to you our newest member of the roster, Cort Marshall. Mr. Marshall, do you have any thoughts leading up to your debut?
Marshall turns and leans over the interviewer, plucking the cigar out of his mouth and throwing it on the ground.
Marshall: What did you just call me?
Black hurriedly stomps out the cigar before inquiring, confused.
Black: Marshall... is that not your name?
Marshall thrusts a finger into the interviewer's chest, forcing him back a half-step.
Marshall: That is my name, but not to you, maggot! You, and all the other grunts around here shall refer to me as sir, and only sir, unless you want to drop give me 20!
Black: No, no, I'm sorry... sir.
Jim rolls his eyes at having to address his guest as such.
Black: I was told that your career in the military had ended just last--
Marshall is clearly unhappy with that being mentioned.
Marshall: I never stop serving my country! Not until lily-livered sissies like you realize what it takes to keep america american! And on that note!
Marshall spins toward the camera.
It has come to my attention that this once-great company has become a haven for the scum that would have our glorious country reduced to nothing more than a crime-ridden slum like some of the places they came from! I have elected myself to do this company the service it so desperately needs by weeding out those people by any means necessary.
Black: Would you tell us why? What are, uh, those people doing that makes you so angry?
Marshall: Why? Because I used to love wrestling! I'd watch it every day with my father, as good strong men gave the Reds the right hook of justice!
As he talks, he moves closer to the camera until he's practically spitting on it.
But those people have ruined it! When I turn on the TV after a hard day's work, what do I see? Traitors! Cowards! Pretty-boys in pink and blue! People with improper posture and no taste in music! Makeout sessions! This isn't wrestling anymore, this is a frat party of sin! Make no mistake, as of right now, your time running around and doing whatever depraved acts you want, where impressionable CHILDREN can see, is over.
At this point, he's red in the face and looks as if he's about to pop a blood vessel.
I come from a time when wrestlers were role models, dammit! Not over-perfumed pansies thinking their bargain-bin Kendrick LaDouchebag shoes make them look like a million bucks. I am going to make wrestling morally right and god-fearingly american again. I am going to make it great again. And I don't care if I have to break a few oh-so-snooty noses to do it. DISMISSED!
With that, Marshall pivots and strides off-camera.
Black: Well, that was certainly a strong statement from the Sergeant. We'll have you right here with us if he follows up any of that big talk with action.
