Speaking of heels, I was just looking through my comp, and came across this....
A promo by my good buddy Shadowsleet, in the e-fed run by the Submeister

I remember saving it at the time thinking: "This...is the best pure heel promo of all time!"
If only the WWE had mic workers who took the time to interact with the crowd like this

It's this kinda thing that actually got the Rock over when he turned heel
QUOTE
Another week, another show…another day in the life of an SOH star. That was the lot of many of those who earned their living through an SOH contract. While a chosen few were given the privilege of appearing upon the flagship Fierce Friday show, countless others were relegated to appearing on the lesser house shows and, occasionally, a minor television broadcast.
It was these same minor stars that often found themselves being the recipients of brutal assault from their betters, beaten from one side of the ring to the other so that one of the ‘big shots’ of the locker room could have a few unscheduled minutes to speak to the crowd. It was abuse they tolerated….partly because of the difficulty in ensuring regular work in the cut throat wrestling industry, and partly because they could at least be sure the taping of them being demolished would be shown on television; fame for being a weakling was still fame.
However, there were some things that even the most zealous of these sorry individuals would do for a chance at glory; one of them was to try and exact vengeance for the young man who, upon heading towards the curtain for the opening match of the night, had refused a request from Shadowsleet to postpone his entrance for a while.
The unfortunate rookie had discovered far too late that Shadowsleet seldom made the same request twice, and now found himself lying on his back, with the heel of Shadow’s wrestling boot grinding into his throat, as Shadow himself turned his attention to the small huddle of the man’s friends who had gathered just out of reach, one corner of his mouth rising into a smirk.
“Feel free to jump in any time you want,” he told them, applying slightly more pressure to his foot, drawing a strangled gurgle from his victim’s constricted throat. “But whether you do or not, I hope you’ll explain to your friend that it’s not polite to tell me to…what was it you said again? Piss off or something.”
Shadow’s victim’s only reply was another gurgle, and Shadow’s sneer widened, before he at last withdrew his foot. The rookie was instantly seized by a fit of spluttering coughs, as he struggled to regain his breath. Shadow glanced briefly back towards the man’s companions…they still made no move to attack…and he turned away with a snort of disgust.
“If anyone needs me,” he murmured casually over his shoulder, “I’ll be in the ring.”
As Shadow headed for the curtain, the opening cords of his music beginning to pulse through the speakers, he was surprised to note the crowd actually began to thunderously cheer his arrival, pushing the curtain aside to an explosion of camera flashes. He supposed it was no great surprise; they had, after all, been expecting a pair of no-names to head towards the ring, and instead were given one of the premier athletes on the face of the earth.
Pausing within the entrance way, he glanced at each wing of the crowd, still wearing the far from benevolent smirk, as he raised his arms to either side, briefly enjoying the crowd’s adulation…however, the feeling was brief as he began to head down the ramp, withdrawing his arms sharply as a fan attempted to slap his outstretched hand.
Directing a glare towards the offending fan, Shadow remembered the reason for his appearance, and began to head towards the ring with greater purpose, dismissing the remaining fans that attempted to touch him with a wave of his hand. Rolling into the ring under the bottom rope, he rose back to feet in the same motion, wasting little time in heading towards the far apron to receive a microphone from Shannon Lester, pausing briefly as a ringside fan managed to lob a projectile in the form of a rolled up piece of paper, that found its mark on his forehead.
Stooping to scoop up the ball, Shadow rolled back out of the ring, locating the thrower in the front row, and promptly stuffed the paper back into the man’s cheering mouth…an act with both the individual fan and the crowd seemed to relish, cheering even louder as Shadow returned to the ring, his music fading from the speakers.
“Stop cheering, you bunch of retarded sheep,” she spat into the microphone…a statement that was closely followed by a brief silence from the crowd as they recoiled within their seats. “What in the hell do you think has changed in the past couple of weeks? Or have you forgotten that I hate you all?”
Recovering from their initial surprise, the crowd did indeed stop cheering, responding with a single unanimous boo as Shadow sneered at them, shaking his head with a brief chuckle; ‘sheep’ was an appropriate term, easy to direct and twice as stupid.
“Now that that’s out of the way,” he continued over the crowd’s booing, “let’s get on to the matter at hand…that being you people getting the honour of seeing me, one more time, show Kagato why I am, and always will be, the best wrestler in the world today, or ever.”
This was not well received at all, and the crowd’s initial response of booing quickly transformed into a chant of “You got pinned! You got pinned!” Shadow, his lip curling for a brief moment, ignored the crowd for a moment, simply speaking over them until they quietened.
“You see Kagato,” he muttered, “the simple fact of the matter is, I’m sick of all this. I’m sick of constantly turning round and finding you waiting for another ass kicking. I’m sick of showing you, time after time, that you’re a has been, and that I’m the future.’
“So Kagato, after we were told that we’d be allowed to decide the stipulation for our match, it occurred to me that you’re…rather mono-celled brain probably wouldn’t be able to come up with anything more imaginative than some kind of headlock challenge, so I realised the onus was on me to decide how best to deal with this…and Kagato, I decided that this is going to be the very last time I have to deal with you.’
“You see Kagato, I’ve beaten you in just about every match we have a name for. In fact, you’ve never beaten me in our entire…” he paused for a minute, glancing sideways at the crowd, who had instantly renewed their mocking chant. “Hey shut up, Kagato didn’t beat me last Friday, that damn chair did!”
The crowd were not put off by this rather flimsy excuse, and continued to infuriate Shadow with their persistent call of “you got pinned!” However, with an obvious effort, he managed to keep a hold of his temper, turning to face the entrance, dismissing the fan’s outright as his following address was clearly meant solely for Kagato.
“This time Kagato,” he continued almost at a roar, “there aren’t going to be any excuses….this time there aren’t going to be any debates about who the real victor was. Because Kagato, this time I’m going to break you….this time, I’m going to end all the speculation, all the rumours, all the little polls on who the better man is…by making you admit it.’
“You see Kagato, this time there are no pinfalls…there are no count outs…there are no disqualifications. The only way this match is going to end is when one of us…when you…tell the world that you can’t beat me. You can I, in an ‘I Quit’ match.”
The crowd instantly rose into a thunderous explosion of cheers, relishing the prospect of the two men engaging in a match type famous for its sheer brutality, and the toll it took upon both competitors. However, Shadow was far from over, as he simply spoke through the cheer, ignoring the fan’s utterly, and throwing them back into an intense silence.
“But you see Kagato, no normal I Quit match is enough…no normal, tried and tested stipulation is enough to end this war between us. Nothing will be proven, nothing will be settled, until every possible factor, every variable in this match has been narrowed down to just you and me. Which is why, Kagato, I had a little something made.”
As Shadow lifted a hand to point towards the roof, a set of lights flashed into existence at the roof of the arena, bringing into view a vast metallic structure, that began to descend towards the ring upon Shadow’s command. The crowd, watching in amazement as Shadow’s creation came into view, murmured quietly among themselves as it decended to envelope the ring…leaving no escape.
It was a hellish construction; a gigantic dome of metal chains and chicken wire, the peak of which stood some ten feet from the ring, slopping from its apex to the floor. At the far apron, it left some six and a half vertical feet from canvas to metal, leaving enough room for Shadow and Kagato to stand comfortably anywhere in the ring, but with precious little room outside it; it was claustrophobic…with limited room to go anywhere but inside the ring…ensuring that the match would begin and end in a single place.
“I give you the ‘Alcatraz’ match,” Shadow declared proudly, gesturing to his abomination. “There are no doors to go in or out…there are no walls to climb and escape…when we enter this ring, the dome shall be lowered, and the two of us shall be completely cut off from the rest of the world until our match has been decided. In other words Kagato, there is to be no interference…no running…just you and me, with an I Quit stipulation…and this, Kagato, is going to be our final encounter.”
At another gesture from Shadow, the dome began to rise once more, the lights, which had been dimmed slightly, returning to normal as the crowd, watching the sinister construction rise back to the roof, cheered in wonder at the spectacle they were going to witness within it.
“However,” Shadow suddenly continued, drawing their attention once more, “while that’s all well and good, there does happen to be something I have to take care of first. You see, there is a small matter of the proceeding Fierce Friday….a show that’s going to be taking place in a matter of hours I might add. And you know, when I looked at the card posted up backstage, I had two thoughts simultaneously spring to mind.’
“The first was ‘Hey, I’m booked against Neveya’. The second was ‘who?’.” Sneering once more, Shadow seemed amused as he received another barrage of boos from the crowd, shrugging in disinterest at their lack of support, as he turned to face them once more.
“You know you people can boo all you like,” he told them, “but let’s face it…I am a world class athlete. Neveya is a world class nobody…I mean, even you people have to admit some kinda mistake’s been made there.”
Spreading his hands expectantly, Shadow simply received further boos and, shrugging waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.
“Fine, if you people are gonna boo me, I’ll just talk to this lot,” as he said this, he turned away from both the right wing of the audience, and the arena’s main camera, to address the left wing…an action that actually received many a cheer from the new wing of the audience, before Shadow turned back to the first, with a shake of his head.
“Forget it,” she shrugged, “that side’s even uglier than this one.”
Another unanimous boo followed, as Shadow grinned at the disgruntled fans, lowering the microphone briefly as he burst into all out laughter. The crowd certainly didn’t share his amusement, as another thrown ball of paper narrowly missed him.
“The point is,” he continued, “that what you people are going to see on tonight’s show, is the most dominant man in this company’s history, taking on some midcarder, who managed to hold into the tag team championship for…what? All of one successful defence?....What? You booing again now? Were you expecting some cliché crap like ‘I respect Neveya’?’
“Well the fact is, I don’t. There are only a chosen few in this industry, let alone a single company, that I consider in my league…Neveya is not, and never will be, one of them. What she’s going to be is a warm up for me…a slightly smaller than average speed bump on my road to Kagato.”
As the crowd continued to boo him, there was a cry somewhere in the crowd of “kick his ass Nev!” Instantly, Shadow turned in the direction of the offender, his lip curling as he leaned over the apron, searching for the individual who had shouted.
“Someone else want to be a warm up?” he taunted. “Any one of you inbred, sheep loving, internal farts want to be a man? Because make no mistake, I’ve got no problem with you all lining up, and one by one, I’ll kick the crap out of every single one of you jobless, toothless, hopeless, gruel for brain pieces of burned on oven grease.”
As he spoke, Shadow used his free hand and a foot to stretch the ropes apart, though nobody in the crowd took him up on the challenge. Turning away in disgust, Shadow headed back towards the entrance side of the ring, pausing briefly at the ropes to give his final words.
“Make no mistake Neveya,” he growled. “Tonight, I will be, the beginning of y…actually, forget it, you people didn’t pay enough to hear my catch phrases.”
At another resounding boo, Shadow tossed the microphone across the length of the ring into the startled hands of Shannon Lester, before ducking under the ropes and heading back up the ramp. The crowd, absolutely enraged, booed and jeered him all the way as Shadow, still wearing a smirk, vanished behind the curtain.
Man that would get so much heat...
QUOTE
“Forget it,” she shrugged, “that side’s even uglier than this one.”
Best....line...ever