I owe pro wrestling. It’s the only reason I’m still alive, and it pisses me off, and it makes me sick, everybody else thinks wrestling owes them something. All the time, me me me, I should be champion, I should be a featured performer, I shouldn’t be paired with this guy in a team, I should get more mic time, I should get this, whatever. I love pro wrestling, and I owe pro wrestling. It doesn’t owe me anything. Because it’s given me the only thing that makes me happy, the only high in this world that makes it worth getting up out of bed every day, and when it hits my bloodstream, and it courses through my veins, and explodes in my heart and the warm feeling coming over my brain, the whole world makes sense. And that’s what I owe pro wrestling.