Right let’s carry on the death march to NXT.
Speaking of which I’m completely dead from my mate’s stag do so expect some quality typing. (edit: Ohhhh, I wondered why I started typing this up in January and didn’t come back to it until March. My mate was so blitzed I had to carry him around the club like Flair wrestling Kerry Von Erich for an hour. After physically shoving pizza into his mouth and holding him down in the taxi as he requested the driver play “that song from The Witcher”, I got him back safe and sound only for his fiance to ask why we bothered. It was a fun night.)