We click play on the video and as we do, a small loading icon appears in the middle of the blank screen, turning slowly as the video buffers for a moment before fading out as the video finally begins to play. And now that it's playing, the first thing we see is none other than Supreme Championship Wrestling star and member of the Helms Dynasty himself, Jason Helms, standing in what we know to be the home-office inside of his home in Aurora, just outside of New Orleans. He stands in the middle of the shot wearing ripped blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt with the text “Please Don’t Team Me With Bree Again This Year” on it in white letting. Not as dramatic as his recent wardrobe choices, but sometimes the simple message is the best form of the argument. Jason nods his head down at his own t-shirt, as if asking people to pay attention to it, before brushing some lint from the front of it and shooting the camera a big goofy grin as  he throws his arms out in a welcoming gesture to those watching. Happy that ample time has been given for people to get a good look at what he’s wearing, he lowers his arms and slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans and a date stamp appears in the bottom left hand side of the screen reading [05.04.2020] as he begins to speak. “Sup ass-clowns?!” he asks, in his usual jovial tone as he welcomes his fans, the aforementioned ass-clowns - genuinely a term of endearment in his eyes - to the start of his latest video. “So how was Cold Blooded for you guys, huh? Was it everything you hoped it’d be and more, in a truly moving and inspirational way which gives you hope for the immediate future of our beloved company? If you answered yes just then, please turn this video off and go and take a long walk while putting some serious fucking thought into where things went wrong with your damn life bro. Preferrably in traffic or off of a pier or something, because that’s the only fitting end for anyone who was satisfied with what transpired at Cold Blooded and I’ll hear nothing else about that fact! No really, as a general rule, if assholes like Bree Lancaster or Sienna Swann are actually happy about something that happened, then generally speaking, anyone with a rational mind and a shred of common sense should probably be fucking miserable about it, at least that’s the general feeling I’ve developed over my time here anyway… but hey, you do you bro, you do you. Differen’t strokes for different folks, am I right? And I guess, grudgingly, I have to say congratulations to our new World champion, huh? Much as it pains me to say it, she pulled off something incredible in a sense, not because she shouldn’t be capable, but simple because I was starting to think that nobody was going to be able to beat James Evans for that thing, so yes, grudgingly, congratulations to Bree… now get ready for the most difficult period of your fucking life, sweetheart, because divorce, hatred, public spats, dealing with ex’s, the trash media and the other stuff from last year that I won’t mention publicly out of respect, that’s all gonna pale in fucking comparison to what it’s gonna be like for you now you have that huge target on your back. And while you’re happy to have Sienna and Chris behind you in this, just remember that knives can come from behind as well as in front, alright? Winning it wasn’t the end game, it was the starting line and with what’s to come over the next two weeks? Just be ready, Ms. Cheese, or it’ll be short lived. I’ll leave it at that, because I don’t want Amy or Dom bitching about me the minute this goes live, but I think I got my point across anyway…”

Jason gives himself a single confident nod, before throwing his arms out wide again all of a sudden. “And now bro’s and bro-ettes, who’s ready for some craziness?!” he asks, full of smiles and enthusiasm. “Because while I may have gone through the ringer somewhat at Cold Blooded - like seriously, I can actually add ‘wrestled a match in a bayou’ and ‘attacked by a douche in a ghillie suit’ to my list of accomplishments in this business, and I never would have imagined that would be the case in a million years until it happened, so hooray for surprises - the next two weeks here in the Supremest of all the wrestling companies is going to be off… the… chain!” he says, grinning like a cheshire cat. “Now I do know that many of you would have been expecting me to stand here in this little video of mine, and throw some shade out at a certain douche canoe after a hellacious match between the two of us in New Orleans a little over two weeks ago because, let’s face it, isn’t that why you wonderful ass-clowns come to watch these videos? To watch me put people on blast, for my loud mouth to do it’s duty and run wild and say things that are out there or controvertial or just plain mean about people that, generally speaking, are slightly worse than I am? I know what you people are like, I know what you want to see, and I love it… but you know, after speaking about that guy as much as I have lately, I really don’t want to spend more of my time speaking about him, you know? I said in the lead up to Cold Blooded that no matter what the cult leader said, no matter what he spun in his videos, that I had already won the war, that we won the war and he was just continuing to drag it out beyond where it had already ended. He’s like Japan in world world two, am I right? It’s over, but he just keeps on going! But now… well, despite the fact that officially, things ended as a draw at Cold Blooded between me and him, the idea of spending another video dedicated to just how much Giovanni Aries--” Jason says, but his words trail off abruptly at the mention of Gio and he stares blankly into space for several seconds, becoming almost awkward before he suddenly continues without explanation and without missing a beat. “-isn’t something that just bores me to fucking tears but in truth, I just want to fucking move on! Did we get any real resolution at Cold Blooded? Not really… but fuck it, sometimes life is just like that, you know? And while I’m all for introspection, what fucking good is it gonna do to go over already well trodden ground when there’s literally two weeks of fucking insanity on the horizon starting this wednesday night, huh?! I’m not even gonna talk about the ridiculousness of what kicked off last Wednesday’s Breakdown, because as far as I’m concerned, this Wednesday and the one following, we’ve got the potential to really up the fucking game and the fun in SCW and who doesn’t fucking love fun, huh? Apart from maybe our world champ, anyway. Sorry, not sorry.”

“I just fucking hope these next two shows don’t end up resembling the Fatal Fortunes of two years ago, because that was not a good time for me, it really fucking wasn’t,” He says, a big laugh coming from him before he shakes his head, still grinning to himself as he continues to speak. “Seriously bro, the fucking laws of random chance can suck my fat one after that draw two years ago, putting me and Bree in a tag team number one contenders match?! If it wasn’t so depressing it would have been hilarious! And to add insult to injury, we won the fucking thing and then I blew my knee out the night we actually challenged for the belts, so yeah, can’t say I’ve got particularly fond memories of that shit… but then again, I don’t have particularly fond memories of a lot of things yet here I am, right?! I’ll admit though, I thought about maybe telling the office that I wanted to sit it out this year, tell them I was still suffering ill effects of what happened when I went down the rabbit hole…” he says, spacing out again for a couple of seconds before shrugging. “But then I realised that I’m not the kind of little bitch that makes up some bullshit about not being fit only to be perfectly fine after all, and that I wasn’t ever going to go that low! I mean, is my name Zoe? or Bree? Glory? Fuck no, it’s Jason fucking Helms! And after the last few weeks, after the challenges I threw out and the hell I put my own body through to stop a megalomaniacal ass-hat from thinking he can push me around and mess with my family, I’m not about to back down to the challenge of staring Fate in the eyes and telling her to go fuck herself! And I’m not even kidding, the more I think about how soul destroying it was having to team up with Bree two years ago, this year I’m just gonna say fuck it and bring it on, I don’t care what I get booked in, what match, what stip, whether it’s for gold, a future opportunity or whether it’s just a bog standard regular match. I know that I’m lucky to even be back in the fucking ring after my knee injury, so what’s the point in getting working up about what may or may not happen over the course of two shows, you know? I had practically a month of getting worked up heading into Cold Blooded, but like I said, it’s time to think about the future, not dwell on the past! And for some, Fatal Fortunes could be the catalyst to truly kickstarting a career here in SCW, that’s the beauty of it. And there’s gonna be some who hang on that, and some who hate on it, it’s natural I guess. Either you’re excited because you think you could get that amazing opportunity or you’re bitter because you think you’ll end up in a bra and panties match against Sammy Thomas Davies or something. Glass half full or half empty I guess? But why?!”

Jason throws his hands up, wishing he had an answer. He clearly doesn’t, as the shrug he gives the camera clearly demonstrates. “At the end of the day, there isn’t a single god damn thing any of us can do to change what’s going to happen over the course of these next two shows, so seriously, what’s the point in getting angry? Don’t be an asshole about it, don’t be like Sienna Swann or Bree or Cannon or any of the douche bag committee in SCW… be like Ilya Bryzgalov; why you heff to be mad? It’s only game!” he says, grinning to himself. “I know I’m guilty of this from time to time, but there’s too many people in this company that take everything fucking seriously, you know? When I first came here, back when you ass-clowns booed the shit out of me every night and rightly so, but do you know what I was back then? Apart from a massive asshole to people that it? I was laid back. I didn’t give a fuck, I just rolled with the punches, poked fun and generally moved on to whatever was next… I think that’s the worst part about my changing attitude over the course of my time in SCW, that the nicer I got the more I started to care. And I think that kind of ended up being to my detriment, you know? Maybe people started to think that I’d lost my edge, or that I wasn’t the same guy once I dropped the willingness to do anything to score a win… and to a degree maybe those people were right. But if the last few weeks didn’t help to dispel the fact that my patience has fucking limits and that I’m more than happy to legitimately hurt people for the sake of my message then there’s fucking nothing I can do to help those too blind to get it, you know? I legitimately poured scalding hot coffee on a guy during our match two weeks ago… you think I’m concerned about whether I have to bring the pain?” he asks, scoffing before shaking his head. “I’m looking at the next two shows as more of a reprieve than anything… no really, think about this one; SCW is full of such bullshit on such a regular basis, with people plotting, scheming and attacking each other, all trying to get ahead like this business is anything but a crab bucket anyway, but these next two weeks? None of it matters! We’re not trying to impress the board, we’re not trying to convince Sasha to do or not do anything, we’re not trying to get ahead of the back or one over on a rival, we literally just get what we get and that’s that! Derek Adonis gets a world title match? Fucki’ a! Kandis and Tommy defend the tag belts against Xander Valentine and Sammy Thomas Davies? Awesome! I face my own brother? Amazing! Literally, I don’t give a fuck, I’m here for it… because who the hell doesn’t love chaos, huh?! And that’s the beauty, because whether you’re gonna look on the bright side or be a Debbie Downer, people like me, we’re the only ones who get something out of this pair of shows even when we get nothing out of it! And as far as I’m concerned, that just means I’m already one of the winners. Sure, it’d be nice to see Fatal Fortunes provide some people with a nice reality check or just plain screw certain bitches or assholes over, but in the end I’m just here to see what the fuck this thing throws up and enjoy the chaos and bitching that ensues… and if you’re not happy with things then you’ve only got yourself to blame anyway for being such a fucking stick in the mud or taking themselves way too fucking seriously!” 

Jason throws his arms out in a big, elaborate, exaggerated shrug before sighing and giving a sad smile to the camera. “I’m sure we’ll see the excuses,” he says as she slides his hands back into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m sure people will call bias, people will say it’s not fair that they have to do this, that they have to do that. I’m sure some of our champions will complain about having to do their job by defending the belts they own. There’s always one, isn’t there? Only this is SCW so it turns out there’s always several, but I guess that’s neither here nor there to be honest… but hey, at least we’ll get to have a laugh at the ones who do lose their shit, right? Because life is too fucking short to question every god damn event that it throws at you. I’ve seen the people around me losing their shit over stuff, I’ve lost my shit over stuff lately… but why? Looking at it, am I any better off after that match at Cold Blooded than I was the week before? Is SCW a better place because I did shit or had shit done to me that some will never experience in this business? Not really. And I’m glad some people got a kick out of the match… but believe me when I say it, I’m not any better off as a person or here in this company because of it. But the hand dealt is the hand dealt. And I’d rather look at an opportunity than wallow in self pity because I may not get something handed to me or get something I want! Look at Cold Blooded… and a certain woman isn’t gonna be happy I bring this up, but at Cold Blooded one particular woman on the roster made the best of what was a shit night for her by doing something that free’d her. And I’m not gonna say anymore about that, because I’ll probably end up pissing off several people in my life if I do, but the point I’m trying to make is that life is an opportunity, even if it looks like you’ve been dealt a shitty hand! Embrace the chaos!” he says, bringing a hand up to give a big thumbs up before finishing up his video. “So here’s to two weeks of fucking insanity… here’s to two weeks of nobody knowing what the fuck is happening, from the people in the stands to the people in the back, short of those who make the random draw. Here’s two two shows of absolute chaos, where anything can happen and careers can be made! In the end… we’re in charge of our own fucking happiness, bro. You come third in the olympics, you’re allowed to be fucking delighted, you don’t have to look at the other assholes on the podium and talk about what they got, or be sad you didn’t finish higher up the rankings… this isn’t any fucking different, bro. And I’m not gonna let a single killjoy ruin my budd, I’m not gonna let a single moaning fuck stop me from having my fun and when it’s over, when the dust settles, maybe I go back to thinking I’ve got to be better or do more than everyone else to earn my shot… or maybe I remember who the fuck I am, remember that I never cared about anyone else to begin with and still ended up as US Champion. Wonder which I’m gonna pick?” he asks with a smirk, before bringing his hand up like a pistol, pointing it at the camera before ‘firing’ the gun. “BANG!” he yells with finality, bringing the video to a close. The final frame frozen and dimmed as the replay button appears in the middle of the screen.