They say birds of a feather flock together. We’ll, Raven, baby… I ain’t that kind of bird. You see, I been watchin’ you, that’s a fact. Sittin’ pretty high up in them rafters, with your feathers all neatly tucked around you. Why you ask? Well, let me take you on a little journey. It was some months ago, I thought I’d never wrestle again after a devastating knee injury and I was back home, floatin’ down the creek in my canoe, havin’ a few mudweisers and fishin’ for some bass, when all of the sudden, I looked up, a blinding white light and the next thing I knew I was layin’ my ass on a cold table. They surrounded me, with their big, black, almond-shaped eyes. They cut me open and they put in all sorts of implants, they had some kind of technology, a ray of more colors than a damn rainbow shined down on my knee and I felt the tendons and ligaments re-attach. Suddenly the dull, achin’ pain that had haunted me for so long was gone. After that I passed out and when I woke-up I was floatin’ on my back in that damn canoe, pretty far down stream.
You see Raven, I can’t really explain what happened to me, hell even if I could, where would I start? Was it Aliens? Was it Angels? Were they interstellar? Or inter-dimensional? I don’t know. All I know is they fixed me up. I hopped out of that boat as soon as I got my stankin’ ass to shore and life began anew. That’s why I’m always lookin’ up, dawg. That’s how I noticed you, creepin’ around like some kind bird on a wire stuck outside an “up all night at Dave’s”. You did a helluva a job defeatin’ Master Ken at NXT Level but you better not look up at Attitude, ’cause your gonna see me standin’ over you with my hands raised in a V for victory like a damn Olympic champion. You see Raven, you got that mysterious, tall, dark and dreamy thing goin’ for that all the ladies flock to… but I’m Clay Cypress, better known to the world as Mud Mouth. I came from these muddy waters. I’m the Cybernetic Creek King and I am used to gettin’ down and dirty so don’t think you can just come down and take a bird bath without gettin’ a bit dirty yourself. So whether you end up sippin’ that Creek Water DDT or you find yourself down in the mud lookin’ up after a Buckshot Blast. Hell, you might even try snacking on my Spinnerbait Driver, I’m gonna catch and release… but not after that referee counts ONE, TWO, THREE! This Ol’ Boy from Down the Road is gonna come out on top, smellin’ fresh like a damn dozen roses. I’m gonna step out of that ring lookin’ like a future champion. You know what they say? It is what it is, until it ain’t.