I’m the G.O.A.T of the century. I’m invincible, call me Bugs Bunny. You’re not funny, you’re a joke. I’m cloaked, John Cena. You got provoked. I’m stoked that you stepped up to the plate. Inevitably you will choke and fall on your face. How does my blade taste? I’ve in-braced my true fate, but it won’t be from the guy in front of my face. The colosseum erupts when I disrupt my opponent’s foot. The gladiators run up on me. Too bad I’ve maxed out my skill tree. I dodge 3 to the left of me. 2 more run up, I kill them with ease. I ruin them like the current disease. I will always be a beast, I’m not easy to please. How’s the concrete? I’m not cheating. Please take a seating, want to continue breathing? Then stop challenging me.