Alberto: Buenos dias people, it’s your humble free agent, Alberto del Rio.

What, you were expecting Ricardo Rodrigues to introduce me? Por favor, I fired that fat, useless f*ck years ago. He was riding my coattails so long he was practically passing me the soap in the shower. Hasta la vista, baby.

Paige: But I’M your baby now, right baby?

Alberto: Yes baby, you are.

Paige: I better be. I love you baby.

Alberto: I love YOU baby.

Which brings me to my next point. See, amigos, I was UNJUSTLY fired last year when I bitch slapped that backstage gringo who had the audacity to insinuate I clean his plate. A racist remark gets you a bitch slap where I come from, comprende?

It was the best thing for me because it freed me from the big WWE machine and allowed me to earn mucho dinero in other parts of the world. I could’ve even done MMA if I wanted, pero no me gusta getting punched in the face. Still, I had some MUY well paid gigs in Mexico, and it was a well deserved f*ck-you to Vince McMahon and WWE.

And then they came crawling back to me, like I always knew they would. I signed with them for one year. Twelve months. Doce meses. And on my first night in, whom did I beat?

Your all-American gringo white boy, John Cena, that’s who. And the crowd loved it. I got a HUGE pop, the same pop I get en mis pantalones whenever Paige walks by.

Paige: Oh baby, you’re so BAD! And that’s why I love you, baby.

Alberto: I love YOU baby.

My career was en fuego… on fire! Pero they hooked me up with that racist redneck Zeb Colter, and soon my career was as dead as the dick in Vince McMahon’s pants.

Paige: Not TOO dead, baby. You should’ve seen the lump he got whenever I walked out of my dressing room.

Alberto: Your mamacita body could wake the dead, mi amor. Te amo mucho.

Anyway, back to what I was saying. For the next 11 months the WWE put me in stupid storylines and bad matches. It was back to business as usual, as they say. It reminded me of why I left in the first place.

But hey! They paid me a lot of money, AND I met the amor de mi vida, the love of my life. Paige. Mi Pagina. She stole mi corazon… my heart… and made me a believer in dating younger women! Dios mio! She’s over 15 years my junior… quince anos! Mama mia, she gets my heart racing like a jalapeno pepper on Cinco de Mayo.

Paige: Oh baby, stop, you’re embarrassing me! I’m the one who wanted an older man. You can only turn down young boys from NXT so long. And you’re far hotter than the old geezers who used to pinch my ass backstage like Michael Hayes and Arn Anderson. Even Pat Patterson would wipe his forehead when I’d walk by.

Alberto: See baby, you can turn a gay man straight.

Paige: Yeah, well this is MY HOUSE!

Alberto: SU CASA!

Paige: Right!

Alberto: And mi casa es su casa. So when my contract was almost up, I played games… juegos… and toyed with them. I went to an MMA show to show them who el jefe was… who the boss was. I was on my way to a bidding war for my services when my contract was up.

And then, that’s when they told me I failed a drug test. Paige too.

Paige: Your love is my drug, baby. I love you.

Alberto: I love YOU. But what people don’t realize is that we did it on PURPOSE! A proposito!

You see, my contract was up, mis amigos. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. If I loaded up with testosterone, I could look big and strong… grande y fuerte… and look sexy and grab myself una chica as young as Paige. By the time my test result would come back negative, my contract would be up and I could say Adios!

And I NEED extra testosterone to keep up with this young British babe, let me tell you. I shoot more loads with her than I ever did with any American or Latina mujeres, that’s for sure.

Paige: Oh baby, if you keep injecting those ‘roids the way you keep injecting me with your love potion, there’s not gonna be enough testosterone in the world to replenish you. I love you, baby.

Alberto: You’re right… tienes razon… about that. You see, mis amigos, Paige failed her test because she had so much of MY testosterone in her, if you know I mean. My DNA became her DNA, whether it was down her boca… her mouth… or between her piernas… her legs.

She was so pumped full of mi jugo… my juice… that she would’ve tested positive for frijoles refritos if that’s what I had for breakfast.

Paige: Oh baby, STOP! You’re turning me on. Can we go have sex now?

Alberto: Do flies fly??

As you wish, mi amor. Let’s go create una novela sucia!

So long, Armpit readers. And adios, WWE! Arriba!

Disclaimer: Alberto Del Rio and Paige didn’t really write this. The Armpit did. But we know it’s what they would say.