The lights went down for a moment between matches, the entire arena going black for a short moment, not one person could see a foot in front of their face. Everything went quiet for a moment, the only sound the low chattering of the fans, wondering in confusion of what exactly was occurring. The silence hung in the air for a moment, until, with a sudden burst it was broken as music kicked in, the upbeat tune echoing throughout the arena.

The moment the music hit the lights flashed back on, green spot lights scouring across the area, as a young man burst from behind the curtain, a smile on his face, a mic in one hand, and a bottle of Sleeman in the other. He came out rolling, and hopping on his toes, a look of sheer joy on his voice, as he roared into the microphone. "Ahhhhhhhahahahahahhhh!!!" The unknown man bellowed gleefully, before tipping back the bottle and taking a long drink. wasn't dressed to compete at the moment, garbed in a heavy dark brown jacket, buttoned up, with a loose scarf wrapped around the neck, and blue jeans covering his legs.

He stalled at the ramp for a moment, continuing to hollar with joy, his own genuine delight seeming to infect the crowd, as he hopped up and down, rocking his head to the beat. After a short moment he started his way down the ramp, moving toward the right hand barrier, and gripping a fan by the shoulders, giving him a friendly shake. The fan was holding his own beer, which the newcomer gestured toward, and could be heard asking for a drink over the roar of the music.

Tipping back the bottle, he smirked and muttered some thing to the fan that could be made out as "Where I come from we call that water, have a real beer lad!" and he shoved his own bottle of Canadian brew into the fans hand, leaning over wrapping his arms around another fan in a tight hug, for no apparent reason other than he was excited to be here, and wanted to hug somebody. He then pulled away, and dashed toward the ring as fast as he could, leaping up and sliding under the ropes with great agility, performing a swift kip-up to land on his feet, before finally speaking into the microphone.

"Ho! hoho Yeah! You don't know how happy I am to be here tonight!!!" He yelled, his Newfoundland accent coming off thick, a cross between Canadian and Irish, with shades of other Celtic accents. "Ho Yeah! Alright let's take it down a notch, everyone..." The man continued trying to quiet things down a bit so he could speak, his music cutting off, and the spotlights fading away. "I guess I oughtta explain me'self huh? Gladly, my name is Jaykob O'Hara, or as some call me Saint Jaykob." He continued, speaking calmly into the mic, though breathing heavy from all the excitement.

"I have wanted to appear at a Professional Wrestling PPV my ever since I was a lad, and now here I am, before my very first official match I have been given the honour to address you good people, and say THANK YOU!!!" His voice roaring again as he spoke. "Oh god, I don't know what to say other than that, this is fantastic, and I swear this time next year I will have gold around my waist, that is a promise to everyone in this building, but until then I'm gonna me'self, and I will take any challenge for me'first fight, I've got the blood of Celts in me, and I'm fearless, fighting is in my soul!" His hand gripped the microphone with white knuckles, as his eyes lit up just looking out over the crowd.