A show like this was small budget and real personal. Only a set of cheap steel barricades kept the fans from forcing their way out onto the entrance ramp…that, and a few muscular security guards with stun guns. Still, they could almost touch the stars with their finger tips. Even the nosebleed section had okay seating. The people could voice their opinions a little better this way.

No family folk where in the arena. This was a college town and the audience seemed to working on their sixth round of beers; cheering and booing as they pleased. Some even were buzzed enough to give the camera the finger as it passed of maybe flash their bra. But mixed in all of this were the signs. The real voice of the people. And the signs said it all….

Some said the same old shit. “Chain Gang Soldier”…”RKO // Legend Killer”…but every once in a while they could see a black sign with white lettering. Three letters that, last week, turned Bischoff’s stomach inside out. n.W.o

Inside the ring, a couple of jobbers were attempting to kill one another. At this point many of the fans were going or just returning from getting a few beers or using the rest room. The two rookies could kill each other and the fans still wouldn’t care. And that was when it happened.

The titantron came to life….and instantly everyone seemed to forget the match that was taking place. They might of even stopped wrestling to watch themselves as an operator-like voice said….

… “The Fallowing Announcement Has Been Paid For By The”…

A black and white picture comes into view. A brick wall was all that could be seen in the background with a poorly spray painted logo over it. The fans didn’t need to read it to know this was the work of the New World Order. But still, it was enough to bring all the fans back to their seats. Some crossed their legs to hold it because they didn’t want to miss this.

Two shadows cast over the brick wall. They grew bigger and bigger until eventually both Outsiders came into view. A mix reaction came from the crowed. But it didn’t matter, The Outsiders didn’t look as if they cared. In their minds, they were the shit.

Scott Hall had his arms extended at his sides . His spit-curl hanging over his forehead. Nash just leaned back against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. A bandana draped over his forehead. They looked like a couple of thugs looking for a fight as they smirked into the camera. Hall being the first one to break the ice.

Scott Hall: "Hey yo…Dubya’-Gee’….say hello to da’ bad guys!” he teases, the toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth as he smirked.

Big Sexy just chuckled. Keeping that cool, laidback style to him.

Scott Hall: "So…Easy’E don’t believe us? He thinks we’re jus’ talkin shit….funny, man’g. Real funny” he mumbles something under his breath the camera didn’t catch. Nash, however, laughed a bit. But then, he was suddenly as serious as he had originally been.

Kevin Nash: "See…I thought when we handed those fat sons of bitches their asses Bischoff would of got the point! We don’t like it when people mess with our family. It’s just not a smart thing to do. But obviously that was too hard for you corporate pieces of shit up at headquarters, because no sooner than we set one foot out of the arena…..the next thing we know, your walking diabetics come stumbling down and do the same damn thing as the week before. It’s bullshit, I tell ya! Now Eric, I know you like to think you call the shots around here…but you don’t.” a fire burned in Nash’s chest as he said those last three words.

Hall nods in agreement.

Scott Hall: "Couldn’t of said it betta’ myself, Chico. Bitch-off aint callin’ da shots…we are! Da’ Outsiders….we don’t take orders too good. We aint no puppets like those tools ya’ keep in yer’ pocket. Three Minuet Warnin’…they don’t want a piece of da’ bad guy. To me, they aint nothing’ but battin’ practice! Somethin’ at knock around for fun…..but Christian and ‘WhOrton’…now das’ something’ I wouldn’t mind getting’ ma’ hands on. Some fresh meat for da’ Wolfpac….” Scott looked into the camera with an expression of an animal…as if he really was a beast out for blood.

Nash took the leading roll again.

Kevin Nash: "Eric, you said you know who we are…..but to be honest, we know who you are too. We know how you work…how you think…and most of all, what your limits are. So if you want this to be a war of manipulation…then game on. Because I don’t care what you promise these guys or what they have to tell themselves to make them feel like they can stand a chance against ya…I mean, Shawn and Hunter…ha ha. But the point is, like it or not….this is a fight that you boys can’t win. This is a war…you made the match, and now…we’ve gotta’ make our move. But just remember one thing, Eric. If you try to manipulate us…you’ll only get hurt. And heck, maybe you won’t be the only one. I mean, what is a war without a few casualties? The WG didn’t seem to care that we knocked a few fat guys blocks off…so maybe this week we will try to make a better example of a few of you bitches in the back…..that reminds me, Hey Scott….ha ha, why don’t you tell the happy folks at home just why they call you Razor?” Nash teased.

Hall leans into the camera with that cocky smirk again.

Scott Hall: "Cause I’ll Cut…Chu’…Up!” he said with a swagger, before removing the toothpick from his mouth; flicking directly into the camera.

Big Daddy Cool gives the camera one last, serious look…

Kevin Nash: "See you at Sacrifice….” the tone of his voice was bluntly hostile.

The camera made a static sound before going black…returning to the original introduction scene.

… “The Preceding Announcement Was Paid For By The”…

The fans in the arena didn’t know what to say…they only looked on, blankly at the titantron. Waiting for it to come to life again….but the older fans knew better. The Outsiders had said all they had to say….for now. But Sacrifice, so it seemed, would be a different story.