Daymon took his time with the newcomer, sizing him up early on and struggling a bit with his shootfighting style. Indeed, it was Zanders who took control with a hard striking offense that took Daymon completely out of his game. Zanders was well on his way to an early King of the Cage upset when, as he leaned against the cage to get a breather after a stiff roundhouse kick a mysterious figure appeared from under the ring in a mask and slithered up a few rungs of the side of the cage and hit Zanders in the back of the head with a foreign object. Daymon, unaware of the interference took advantage after coming to his senses by setting up and hitting the Brain Rocker, which gave him plenty of time to escape the cage through the door for the win.

Winner: Rocko Daymon in 11:52

[The camera goes back to some hallway, where a kid in a black "Crew" shirt is mopping up a puddle of spilled coffee. He doesn't look very tall, less than 6' feet tall. Certainly not a mountain of muscle by any means, but he's not supposed to be, he's holding a mop.]

Nero: Well well well, what do we have here, Augustus?

[C.P. Nero introduced himself into the scene with a smug expression on his face.]

Augustus: Well let's evaluate the scene shall we?

[Augustus, a stark contrast to the mop holder, nearly 7 feet tall and all muscle, chimed in.]

Augustus: We've got a mop, we've got a shirt that says “Crew”, I think it's Joey Melton!

[The young man with the cleaning tool pays them no mind. It wouldn't be the first time people have decided to play with him while he's working. It's happened in a number of federations; EPW isn't the first wrestling organization that he's worked crew for.]

Nero: Well that's rude.

[The smaller Proletarian smirks.]

Nero: Joey's too good to speak to us apparently.

Augustus: Yeah, hey buddy, just cause we're working class people doesn't mean you can just ignore us like that.

[Augustus pretended to wipe a tear off.]

Augustus: Communists have feelings too!

[The backstage worker keeps his eyes on his job.]

???: If you'd like to make conversation, we can do so later. After this I've got something else to attend to, no time for small talk.

[He's telling the truth, the camera quickly pans down the hall to see another "wet floor" sign and something that's green and slimy. We then turn back to the three people nearest to the camera.]

Augustus: This isn't small talk.

[The massive human being closes in on the crew member within mere inches, towering above him.]

Augustus: As you can see, I'm too big for small talk.

???: You're stepping on a spot I haven't mopped yet. Coffee stains are too hard to get out to be doing that.

Nero: Oh are they?

[C.P. steps into the picture again.]

Nero: Well isn't that some useful information from Mr. Clean himself! Hey, I got this stain on my pants and I just can't get it off. Any advice on what I should do to take it off?

[The smaller member of the Proletariat, still bigger than our undaunted crew kid, beams as he smiles.]

???: It depends on the stain. If that wasn't sexual innuendo, then a Cheer stain-breaker and a cycle in the wash will be fine. If you attempted to make some sort of penis joke, then burn the pants, put on a new pair, and by then I'll have found a 9th grader for you to converse with on that level.

Nero: Woooahh, look at Joey Melton, Mr. Clean! Talking big! You know Joey, you comparing me to a 9th grader is amusing to me. Here you stand as a backstage worker mopping. Here I stand, not only a wrestler, but for your information I have a Master's degree in Political Science.

[Neither man is smiling anymore.]

Nero: And you're being condescending to me? You're NOTHING. You can only wish and dream that you were in the position that I am.

Augustus at this time put his hand on the crew member's shoulder, gripping it menacingly.

???: I'm sorry, but I find that funny. You spent yours, or somebody else's, thousands of dollars getting a Master's Degree in Political Science, only to forgo any hint of an academic or publishing career, choosing instead to wrestle. I may have a mop, but at least the opportunity cost of using this mop isn't as colossal as the social cost you incur by not living up to your potential.

[The kid looks down at his shoulder.]

???: And had you not yet noticed, that doesn't hurt or intimidate me.

Nero: Maybe we should give the little pipsqueak something to be intimidated about then.

[He and Augustus move in closer, C.E. grabbing the mop and tossing it off down the hall. They look about ready to lay a beating on the kid when a voice rings out behind them, halting their impending mugging.]

??? Number 2: I thought I smelled the outdated doctrine of a boorish government in the air. And whaddaya know...its two biggest preachers want to punk out the new guy.

[C.P. and C.E. turn around to find Lindsay Troy standing at the hallway's intersection, hands on her hips, looking rather perturbed.]

Troy: Don't you two chuckleheads have anything better to do?

Nero: Heyyy! If it isn't the Champ herself! We really don't have anything better to do, Lindz. The real question is don't you have anything better to do than play hero? Shouldn't you be out signing autographs, promoting EPW, you know, being the Champ?

Troy: My meet and greet with the fans ended five hours ago, but I can fit in another, more personal, one right now.

[She strides over to the Proletariat, eyes locked on theirs, and stands behind the crew member with arms folded over her chest.]

Troy: Get your hand off Silvio, unless you want me to remove it myself. The latter option won't turn out quite well for you.

[Augustus smirks, squeezing the kid's shoulder.]

Augustus: What? The runt's got a name? I had already endeared myself to calling him Joey Melton.

Nero: I liked calling him Mr. Clean.

Augustus: Mr. Clean's buff though, Dan Ryan kind of buff.

Nero: Yeah, hey listen, Champ. No bad feelings right? Here, have a pamphlet about Communism as a parting gift. You'll be enlightened.

[Troy swipes the pamphlet, crumples it up and no-look tosses it over her shoulder into a nearby trash can. C.P. chuckles, then motions for C.E. to follow him. The larger man releases Silvio Fiore from his grasp and looks down at Troy]

Augustus: Be seein' ya soon, <i>Champ.</i>

[The Proletariat walk off, leaving Lindsay and Silvio by themselves. Yes, Silvio Fiore, the same young man who will face Troy Douglas later in the first round of King of the Cage. He retrieves the mop, setting it down in the wheelie-bucket of cleaning solution. Hands wet with Mop-n-Glo, he refrains from offering a handshake until he wipes it off with a towel.]

Fiore: Thanks, I was concerned I'd have to engage them. Seems no matter where I go, there's always people willing to bother the help. It's amazing that there's no provision or workman's comp for that sort of thing. Working for a wrestling promotion is not itself an assumption of risk if a person isn't signing a competition contract. Enough about that, though... how have you been?

[Lindsay lets her arms fall back to her sides, stuffs her hands in the pockets of her jeans and shrugs.]

Troy: About as well as can be expected, I suppose. Why are you back working crew anyway? I thought you left that behind when you left PRIME.

Fiore: Oh no, it had nothing to do with PRIME. I do this in every federation that I work. It's usually normal work, with mostly being left alone. I just feel like giving back a little to a federation... everything else, using the ring and airtime, all that other stuff; for me it's just taking.

Troy: Just watch out for yourself, alright? Some of the guys here, like Nero and Augustus, won't stop getting on your case about it. And with this tournament starting, and all the shake-ups, people are going to be even edgier than normal.

[The EPW newcomer, just 18 years old, shrugs his shoulders. He's a good 6 inches shorter than Lindsay so he has to look up at her.]

Fiore: I can manage... nobody ever looked menacing while accosting somebody with a mop. And what with image being so important in wrestling and all.

[Silvio takes a sigh, closing his eyes for a brief moment.]

Fiore: I suppose I do make myself a target, but I can't convincingly act differently. The bullseye will be there anyway if people are looking for someone to mess with. It's my size, youth, and rookie status that's going to make mess with me more than anything. Past that, people probably don't care what I do.

[Troy smiles, and puts her left hand on his shoulder.]

Troy: You're in the King of the Cage, kiddo. If you beat Douglas tonight, and keep on winning, <i>everyone's</i> going to care what you do, where you do it and how you do it. Trust me. I've been there.

Fiore: In that case, it's imperative that I keep doing things the same way. Antagonistic strangers are hardly the type of people I'd let control and influence my life.

Troy: Sometimes...it's not a matter of you <i>letting</i> it happen. It just does, regardless of whether you want it to or not.

[Fiore takes up the mop again, one of those handle-wring numbers so that he doesn't have to touch the bucket or the mop bristles.]

Silvio: Maybe so. All I can do is be myself. Besides, sitting around the whole show not doing anything is pretty boring.

[Lindsay's about to reply when, from down the hall, she spies Mister Jomo running toward her, waving his arms in an attempt to get her attention. Irishred's aid stops next to them and pants heavily, trying to catch his breath.]

Mr. Jomo: Miss....Troy...[pant pant] I...well, [pant] Mister Irishred [deep breath, okay] wants to see you in his office.

[Troy quirks an eyebrow skyward.]

Troy: Really. That's most inconvenient, since I've sworn to loathe him for all eternity.

Mr. Jomo: I beg your pardon?

Troy: I have nothing to say to him and there's nothing he could say to me that I could possibly have any desire to hear. Quite simply, he can go **** himself. Now run along back to Master.

[Jomo's eyes widen to saucers. He slowly turns on his heel and walks back in the direction from whence he came. A silence befalls the hallway, with Lindsay glaring after Jomo. Eventually, Silvio breaks the silence.]

Fiore: So... is there something going on there that I should know about? I try to keep below the radar but doesn't hurt to be aware of everything.

[Push, pull, push, pull... it's not sex, it's cleaning duty, and he's almost done. One more go over with a secondary mop, water only, and he'll be done.]

Fiore: You can probably give me some more specific advice on things or people to avoid. Not that it'll help, if inevitability will mean that I'll become jittery and jaded. I'll try my best not to get that far, though.

[That said with a big, cheesy, genuine grin on his face.]

Troy: Sure, but all this may take awhile. I'm going to head off to my locker room and just lay low. Come find me when you're done and I'll explain everything.

The second match of the night saw Sean Stevens continue his return to EPW with a first round matchup against Nakita Dahaka. Dahaka’s manager, Delilah Demonik was noticeably subdued throughout the contest, perhaps as a result of the events that transpired at Wrestleverse II. Dahaka’s physical presence was enough to keep Stevens off-balance through the early part of the match, but Stevens’ experience and technical prowess proved too much. With Demonik unable to provide any assistance, Stevens hit the X-Terminator which proved to be more than enough to afford him the opportunity to escape the cage for the win.

Winner: “Triple X” Sean Stevens in 8:38