Mine would probably go something like this:
I walk out, some insane metal is playing. Maybe Old Man's Child, "In Defiance of Existence", or Myrkskog's "Blood Ejaculation". Everyone is really fucking scared, if not for the music than my crazy ass, bug-eyed prison stare.
Bruce Buffer introduces the pitiful challenger whom I will undoubtedly lay to waste. (I come in as a huge favorite, obviously) He then turns to me, excited yet hesitant to get Dan Hardy close.
"And now, introducing the champion!" (I'm champ too, which is cool) "FIGHTING!!!! Out of the blue corner! His style is OG gangster! They say his chain hangs low just like his penis! He stands between 6'0 and 6'3 depending on which gas station he is leaving!! Weighing in at an incredibly buff and attractive 204.5 pounds!! He is the REIGNING! DEFENDING! UNDISPUTED, UFC LIGHT HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION! PATRICK! P MONEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
I win the fight easily, mercifully ending it in the first round. To celebrate I buy Mrs. Money a new mink coat, and I invite everyone to our after party at The Venetian