Five thousand years from now people will still be talking about the things that Bray Wyatt did. Five thousand years from now, children will still be learning about me in school. Five thousand years from now everything will be the same. They’ll be arguing about me, man. They’ll be arguing about: “Did Bray Wyatt ever truly exist at all?” Am I just a fairy tale? But I assure you man: I am very, very real. But you people still want to be afraid of me, and you should be man. We all need something to be afraid of after all. Well mother, tell your children not to walk my way. Tell your children not to hear my words; what they mean, what they say. Class, may I ask you a question or two please? Is there anyone out there in this rotten world willing to get their hands dirty for you the way that I will? Nah man, there ain’t. Is there anyone out there is this world that will love you and accept you for who you are no matter where you’ve been or what you’ve done the way that I will? Nah, man. But still, you want to be afraid of me but you shouldn’t. Because I am an angel in the dirt. And if you want to find hell with me, then I will show you what hell is like.