Home.
It means different things to different people. To me, it always felt like hell. I was always second best to the perfect son. An athlete. An achiever. There was always a shadow looming over me and everything I ever did, and you knew it. You liked it like that.
It took me a long time, a lot of blood and many wars with you to find a place of forgiveness, Luke. It wasn't easy. Nothing behind the Newton name ever has been or ever will be.
Home for you wasn't the same as it was for me. As the golden boy, things came easy. When you wanted something, you were given it. If you needed it, you had it. Whilst home for me was hell, it was heaven for you. The thing is - it moulded us, shaped us, it made us who we are and for better or worse, there's no escaping it.
You went on to Hollywood and had a famous acting career, jumping through action sequences like some kind of hero.
And I came to Old School Wrestling where I became the greatest Old School Wrestling World Champion of all time. I became a villain.
That's always been us, hasn't it? Ying and Yang. Black and white.
But what I think you fail to realise when you sit in the comfort and safety of your own home is that whilst you were once the golden boy, the superior athlete, the hero - you didn't once achieve anything at the level I have. I became a better athlete. I became the golden boy. I turned Old School Wrestling into my home, long before you ever decided to grace it with your presence.
And whilst you were memorising lines, learning choreography and pretending to fight underneath the bright lights of Hollywood, I was here actually fighting.
Whilst you were doing second takes, I was winning matches.
Seventy plus of them.
In. A. Row.
I built something here that you couldn't build on a soundstage. I created a legacy that can't be rewritten by some fucking scriptwriter. Every show, every opponent, every drop of blood spilled inside that ring became another brick in the home that I built.
My World Championship reign isn't some story people vaguely remember.
It's carved into the fucking walls.
You spent your life playing heroes, Luke.
I spent mine becoming legendary.
So when you walk into RING KING, understand something—you aren't walking into another scene. There isn't a director waiting to yell cut when things get uncomfortable. There isn't a stuntman waiting to take the fall.
You're walking through my front door. You're stepping into the place where Edward Newton became immortal. This place isn't hell to me. Old School Wrestling is the only place I've ever truly belonged. It's my sanctuary. My kingdom. My heaven.
Funny how life works, isn't it?
Because once upon a time, I lived in hell whilst you lived in heaven.
At Ring King, brother...
the roles are reversed.
You're coming home with me.
And I'm going to show you what hell feels like.