After Paul Heyman’s promo ended, I gently pushed the power button on my remote and walked away from the television. The more distance I put between myself and the television, the happier I became. The divorce from RAW felt merciful and proper.
Paige and Naomi were rolling around on the mat surrounded by their mean-girl-team-accompaniments while Michael Cole tried to convince me I was witnessing a “revolution”, and I decided I’d had enough.
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