Loss and disappointment don’t define me. It offends me. I don’t sit in it. I don’t unpack it. I don’t decorate it. I leave it exactly where I found it and keep moving.

Don’t forget I’m still the man who makes this place feel a little more expensive every time my music hits. Still the best-dressed guy in the building. Still the smoothest talker. Still the most naturally gifted star walking through that curtain. Still Absolute.

You survived the biggest star on Friday nights breathing down your neck. A man who’s been turning every conversation on this brand into a conversation about moi. You survived…for one night. But don’t confuse survival with superiority because those are two very different things.

Please. Save that motivational poster nonsense for somebody who’s comfortable with almost. I am not. I didn’t come to #SmackDown to collect moral victories. I came here to collect championships. Now, congratulations are apparently in order so congratulations, @WatchForTricks.

One thing y’all haven’t learned about me just yet is when I come calling, championships have a funny habit of changing addresses. The United States Championship isn’t looking at its next challenger at #WWENOC. It’s looking at its next owner.

If last week proved anything, it’s that neither one of those men can stand the thought of me getting my hands on the United States title. I don’t blame them. I’d be nervous too because one is carrying a championship, the other is carrying a grudge, and I’m carrying the momentum.

Then here comes @CalledMyShot /@RarityNamedGem/@JumpmanNewStats like clockwork. I swear, every time I get to talking, he hears it from wherever he’s hiding and suddenly feels the need to insert himself into the conversation. It’s flattering. A little obsessive. But flattering.

I learned something important on #SmackDown. Apparently everybody wants to be me. Now hear me out. @WatchForTricks/@HitTheTrickShot/@TalkYoTrick/@NoTricksNeeded/@NoneAsAnointed is there talking about who’s carrying the brand, who’s the leader of the new school, who’s the man.