CHOKE

Oh, hiiiiiiiiiiii Brandon.

Nice of you to remember you have a match in nine days. I would say that I was feeling a bit slighted with all the focus you’ve been giving to Anna, but in reality, I didn’t even think twice about it. I’ve been too busy training, preparing, raising my child to notice your absence. Oh, that's right - fatherhood. A responsibility you’ve choked on mightily.

I will admit though, you have me at a bit of disadvantage. I’m not a ‘promo artist’, not nearly on the level of you. You have the ability to shred anyone apart on the microphone, make them think twice about themselves, get inside their own head a little bit. I should also admit, squaring off against you — it’s a tad bit intimidating. You’re a Hall of Famer. Universal Champion. The standard in PRIME.

And me? I’m just a rookie. There is no denying that those I’ve defeated pale in comparison to those you’ve lost to. Sean O’Neill, Tony Gamble, and Kenny Freeman don’t hold a candle to the likes of Daytona Diamonds, Jonathan-Christopher Hall, or Clay Byrd. I see the odds out there. You’re set to win in a landslide, so to say. At the same time, I imagine you were the odds on favorite to win against all three of them. I expect many people believed you would have captured the Universal Title from Hall and started your third reign.

When you look at the match-ups on paper, though, it takes away the reality of the matches themselves. So while on paper, you should win this match, I wonder if there’s a thought in the back of your mind if you’re going to slip and lose against Rose. Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows, right? All I can do is go out there and give it my best, hoping to break the Tower of Babel.

You think you're summoning me? Oh, honey. I've been lying in wait, coiled like a viper, since the day I entered PRIME. You're not calling me to battle - you're simply meeting me on the battlefield and I’ve been standing there waiting for the likes of you. I’ve faced stalwarts, but let’s be real, you’re rarified air. Lindsay put all her chips on your back and you didn’t let her down.

You want ravenous? I'll show you hunger that'll make your blood run cold. You want blood in my eyes? I'll paint the ring crimson with yours. My father? He's my blood, but this is my war. I'm not here to walk in anyone's shadow - I'm here to create my own.

Hit me harder than I've ever been hit? Each of your strikes will be kindling for the inferno raging inside me. Strangle the air from my lungs? With my last breath, I'll rip that aura of invincibility from your chest and wear it as my trophy.

You're not an obstacle, Youngblood. You're a stepping stone. A legend I'll grind to dust beneath my heel. When I'm done, they won't discuss your championships or victims. They'll talk about the night Rose didn't just survive Brandon Youngblood - she eviscerated him.

Dreams? You want to talk about dreams? My dreams died in the winter of 2022. Life didn't just kill them - it mutilated them, scattered them to the winds. You can't touch my dreams because they're already gone. What's left is pure, unfiltered rage and determination. You're not facing a starry-eyed rookie - you're staring down a woman who's clawed her way out of hell.

July 26th isn't just a date. It's a reckoning. It's the day your legacy starts to burn, and Rose blooms in the ashes of your glory.

You want everything I am? You'll get it, Youngblood. But be ready - because when that bell rings, you're not facing a rookie or a legend's daughter. You're facing a force of fucking nature. A tempest of fury and ambition that's been building since I drew my first breath.

So go ahead. Prepare. Study. Plan. You’ve got the easy path to victory — you’re a legend. Just think, though, what happens to your psyche if you do happen to lose? If I were anyone in your personal life, I would hide because we know what happens when your rage is uncontrollable.

The pundits will say you choked. You and I know, though, it isn’t your first time.

You might think I know nothing, but I know this - in that ring, it's not about your experience or my potential. It's about who's willing to die for victory. And trust me, I've already died once. I'm not afraid to do it again.

There is nothing - NOTHING - I won't sacrifice to make sure that when the dust settles, it's my hand raised high and your broken, humiliated body at my feet.

See you in San Francisco, Youngblood. Trust me, I’m looking forward to it.