Phil Connors

[Cory]

After flashing a marquee that indicated an EBWF.net exclusive promo, the camera swung down and focused in on Randy Orton, who was casually leaning against a hallway backstage. The EBWF World Championship was draped over his should, and his Tag Team Championship title around his waist.

Randy Orton: What a remarkable coincidence that you just happen to catch me hanging out here with my title belts. Wonders never cease.

He smirked and shook his head.

Randy Orton: Have you ever felt like you're just stuck in Groundhog Day? It's like you're Phil Connors. Just waking up every morning, hearing the same crap on the radio, stepping into the same puddle, going to the same stupid presser with Puxautawney Phil.

He arched an eyebrow.

Randy Orton: OK maybe I like that movie more than I care to admit. You know why? Because it's relatable. Look at me. Tonight I'm facing Tomasso Ciampa for the 53rd time. More or less. I'm not sure, I never really bothered to count. But the point is that this is retread territory. As the World Champion, it's pretty clear that I'm the best this business has to offer. I'm the best in the entire world. So I get it. They have to throw me these guys every so often to see what they've got, see if they're worth putting some resources into.

Randy shrugged.

Randy Orton: It's part of the business. But they have fed Tomasso Ciampa to me so many times, that I've honestly forgotten the promo insults I've used...

A look of realization crossed his face and he grinned and snapped his fingers.

Randy Orton: Oh RIGHT. We did the similar names bit. Like Timmy Chompers or whatever. Well congratulations Tomasso, you managed to get me to remember how to pronounce your name. Now we just need to get you to cut down on the thighslaps and they might actually drag you out of catering more often. Tonight though, it's not your night to impress the brass. Make no mistake, they're putting you out there to showcase me[/].You're here to get thrown around the ring, take a backbreaker, and eat an RKO. It's that simple. I have bigger fish to fry than Tomasso Ciampa. One of which is facing Aiden English tonight, a match I will be watching closely.

He casually tapped the face plate of his World Championship title.

Randy Orton: The other is some kind of man baby demon that I'm supposed to understand is some manifestation of Paul Heyman's envy. He's so petty, so jealous that he could never bring me into the fold, that he sends some intellectually challenged monster at me to destroy Rated RKO. That's something else that I'm going to need to deal with. And I will, since they don't want to leave us alone. But tonight, Tomasso...

He smirked.

Randy Orton: Congratulations. For fifteen minutes, you will have my complete and undivided attention. Hopefully that will be some comfort for you after I send you back to the buffet table in the back for the rest of the year.

Randy nodded and stood up straight, his icy stare locked onto the camera as he walked off and the scene faded.