time: saturday afternoon; three thirty p.m EST.

day: february nineteenth, oh six.

place: bailey's bay, bermuda; engel residence.

(Dead as dead can be, my doctor tells me.)

(But I just can't believe him, ever the optimistic one.)

(It's been a quiet four or five months ever since Alexia was kidnapped for a second time. You can fill Austrailia with the amount of silence that goes on in my home, if it were feasible. Why things like this have to happen, I don't know. That's the way the world is; cruel, unusual, and so damn unfair. It seems like God enjoys watching my family suffer. Maybe He's envious.)

(But then He wouldn't be God; he'd be Lex Demise.)

(My daughter, missing one hand of course, reluctantly goes to therapy. This would be round two for her and round one for the rest of us. Despite all of that, I did what I was set out to do. I ended the kidnapping, I saved my daughter, and I chopped off the head of the snake that was biting at the heels of my family and perhaps another family. I took care of a lot of things, but why do I feel so empty? Why do I feel like nothing has changed? The intense panicking and worrying is gone, but why is my family not happy? What else do I have to do. I don't know. I've tried so many things, but they've had little to no effect.)

(The sky is beautiful, though. A delicate mix of blue, yellow, gray, and rich orange -- almost as if it was right out of a Monet painting. I enjoy sitting in my backyard, resting from what has now become a hobby of mine: fixing up and selling boats.)

(When you live in Bermuda, there's no such thing as winter. People are out on their boats as much in December than they are in July. However, in July it gets way too hot sometimes. Ironic. I remember visiting my brother in Wisconsin during the summer and hating it. Never will I live in that kind of climate. I love it down here too much anyway.)

(I smile as I see my wife, Mia, and my daughter, Alexia, playing on the beach behind our home. A Miller High-Life in one hand and the other resting on my knee, I sit and relax on the patio, which I want to screen in, behind my house. Sandcastles, beer, beautiful weather, and especially my family -- what more could I ask for? How can anyone think I'm living an unfulfilling life? Then wouldn't you know it...I hear a familiar voice calling to me in the distance. It sounds like it's coming from the front. Only person that would be able to get anywhere near my house, without setting off alarms of course, would be one man.)

(I yell back to him, letting him know that I'm on the patio. I hear my side gate open and a man appears, wearing a pair of cargo shorts, comfortable sandals, and a light blue "I reigned as king in the AOWF, beat some of the best, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" shirt. Finishing up a conversation on his mobile, he hangs up the phone and extends his arm out in courtesy. I shake it, not budging much from my seat. He takes a seat next to me, looking out into the ocean. Habitually, I hand him a cold one. We've done this a few times.)

VIRUS: You cockblock. You don't visit me, call, or even send me an e-mail in about a month, but suddenly show up after I hear you jumped the bandwagon over in CWA.

(With his attention fully on using his shirt to help twist off the rigid lid on his brew, Dustin nearly misses my nearly hospitable words; but finally looks up in enough time to prevent there from being an awkward silence.)

Dustin Kelser: Oh, meh, ignore that shit man - it's purely coincidental.

(He says with a little smirk, before lifting the bottle up to the arm of his chair.)

Dustin Kelser: I just figured I should stop by and see what you and the fam were into these days. Truth be told, me and Neek just wanted to give you and Mia some space to deal with all the problems with Alexia, your brother Joe, and whatnot. Didn't wanna have to rush you guys back into an awkward social situation over at our house.

(He shuts up after a moment, having obviously planned that little bunch of sentiments for the better part of the day. He was generally concerned, but was afraid he had said too much. To bring all of this to a complete silence, he finally lifts his bottle and takes in a cold swig.)

VIRUS: Problems? Whatever do you mean?

(The sarcasm is as clear as day. After a sip of my beer, I continue.)

VIRUS: That's cool, though. I appreciate it. Everything is going okay, I suppose. Alexia won't even talk to me. It feels deader than Abunai in my house all the time. But, I guess it's better than what it was like five months ago.

(Dustin looks at me, shaking his head.)

Dustin Kelser: You're beating a dead horse with that joke, you know that, right?

VIRUS: You and I both know I get at least one to two pops out of that joke per use. However, this time it's a bit more than a joke. I go to sleep at night and I literally can hear silence. It's something you ain't supposed to hear, but I do. I feel like Alexia hates me. I feel like Mia doesn't even want to be with me anymore. With the solution to one problem came the frustration of more. Life's funny sometimes, so I drink beer to laugh back.

(I follow that up with a big gulp, letting a few drips of the beer slip out of my mouth and down my chin. I wipe it clean with my shirt.)

Dustin Kelser: Alexia's been through two, not one, but two traumatic experiences in her life man... and she's not even in high school yet. Just give her some time, she'll pull out of it.

(Dustin sits up just a hair in his seat, and looks over to me with a reassuring smile. Maybe it'll work.)

Dustin Kelser: She's an Engel, just like yourself. You guys have a damned fine background. Resilient, strong, nothing keeps you guys down for long. Just look at my Enika... you'd think after the shit Corey did to her she'd never bounce back, but hell, four monthes down the road and it's like it never happened. As for Mia? Mia loves you more than life itself, Matt. She's went through just as much as you have... give her time to adjust.

(Hesitant to reply, I nod my head slowly. He's probably right, and I've just had one too many beers to realize.)

VIRUS: Us Engels sure like our tragedies, though. We value the talent and skill it takes to mix our lives up with happiness, sadness, trauma, and accomplishment. It's like.. "Oh..things are going too well, we need to balance that out." Now THAT'S funny.

(I let out a fake laugh.)

VIRUS: I appreciate your kind words, though. I'm just a little woozy. Anyway, I know you didn't come over here just to compliment my family name, what's on your mind? Enika get drunk and run off on you again? I swear dude, she's not here. You know I'd tell you. Bros before ho's, I always say.

Dustin Kelser: Nah... she's back at home, safe and sound. I think after her last bout with Tequila weekend before last, when she told that Yugoslavian chick down at the pub off, Neeka learned her lesson. Cast or no cast, that Yugo bitch wasn't having any of her mouth. Especially after Enika tried to defend the point of Dashboard Confessional being better than Led Zeppelin.

(He says with a grin; and knowing her, it was probably true.)

Dustin Kelser: But for real, I do have some business propositions to toss out to you when you feel like it.

VIRUS: That doesn't surprise me.

(I pause for a moment and take a swig of my beer, seeing a look of concern on Dustin's face.)

VIRUS: Enika got into a fight with me one time because I said System of a Down has more musical talent than The Used and Death Cab. She got pissed. Women take music way too seriously, it seems like. I remember before I met Mia that a girl dumped me because I hated Sum 41. I mean, what the fuck. I hate one band and she suddenly can't be with me. Whatever. I guess it was for the best because I probably wouldn't have offered Mia a place to stay at my house.

(A brief pause. A moment to reminisce.)

VIRUS: A business proposition, huh? Finally want to get that recording label going? I can dig it, but promise me no emo bands. I just...I can't take it. I listen to it, and I just don't get it. And sometimes, I really want to shoot myself in the head afterwards.

(Wolf cackles, before taking another swig of beer.)

Dustin Kelser: Nah man, I'm not hip to the music gig shenanigans, yet. I still haven't even found us a place to set up shop... but I've been thinking, or rather, already signed back on with another wrestling promotion. Now that Enika's all healed up, I can get back out there and do my thing.

VIRUS: Your thing? If that involves taking over CWA, main-eventing every card, and putting one too many fans and fanatics in the seats, then I feel bad for the rest of the roster. But, you know I'm out, man. PHW flopped on me; the sport lost its interest again. My family needs me right now. I wouldn't even be that good of use to you. It'd be like bringing in your brother. Sure, I've got name value, but that's about it..

(A slight laugh, then a sigh.)

Dustin Kelser: Your family's fine dude. In fact, you need to do something to take your mind off of them. Let them come to terms with everything on their own. Hell, come on board and take a soft work load with me... it'll be something to pass the time and get all your frustrations out on.

(Wolf takes another hard drink of his beer, pulling up a belch in the process.)

Dustin Kelser: ...and furthermore, you've gotta get off this whole 'all I have is name value' bullshit; you've got raw talent man... you've just never fully applied yourself. For the first time in ages, everything's fine here on the homefront... don't you think you owe it to yourself to at least make one more go of it?

VIRUS: Never fully applied myself? How much ass did I bust in UHWA? AJWF? Come on. I busted my ass on average four matches a month, sometimes with two matches per night, and what happened? I made money. Sure. I built a tiny name for myself, sure. But the CWA isn't the AOWF, it's nothing like it. The only one that will know me and what I am capable of is you and I'm kind of sick of it, if you don't mind me saying. Wherever you go, half the roster knows you. I feel like I leech off of you sometimes and I don't want to be doing that.

(I let out a loud belch myself.)

VIRUS: Fuck, I feel drunk. Maybe I owe myself another go, but what's it going to amount up to? Nothing. Not like my success in UHWA. I ran that place, not Keldman. The only reason people watched UHWA and came to the cards was because of it being in the AOWF community and me being the top star. Never will I have that kind of success again...so I don't feel like it's worth it anymore.

Dustin Kelser: Dude, you just said it yourself... the success you had in AJWF... what makes this place any different? It's like, exactly the same, with an even less opportunistic cast. You'll breeze right through it.

VIRUS: Eh..maybe. But this place isn't in the AOWF. There's no recognition for me here, man. Who's running that joint anyway?

(Kelser chokes down another quick drink, and mumbles under his breath.)

Dustin Kelser: Scott Sable.

(He barely manages to cough it out there.)

VIRUS: Who?!

(Dustin nods at me, confirming what he just said. I knew what he had said, but I didn't want to believe it.)

VIRUS: Well I'll be damned. What in the world made you jump into his ship again, dude?

Dustin Kelser: I have my price with everybody, you above everyone should know that.

(He says with a wink. I always knew he swung both ways.)

Dustin Kelser: Besides... we've all grown a little bit older, matured, and realized what it's like not having the old community together. He's not out to "get" me anymore, he's simply just looking to make the best investments possible.

VIRUS: Best investments possible...well, I can certainly understand that. I went to college too. Just keep a sharp eye, you know? Plus I'm sure you got people there to watch your back, as always. I know you don't take chances. Who have you got there anyway?

(I go for another swig, but I realize it's empty. I chuck the bottle in the nearby trash receptacle and grab another one out of the cooler, immediately opening it and taking a drink. Dustin looks at me with a look of concern, again.)

Dustin Kelser: Well... nobody, just yet anyway. Laura wasn't interested, Ewen's off on some Yachting trip, and Silvio's over in some other promotion these days. The only person who might be on is Riona, and Sable's giving her a hard time with her contract.

VIRUS: Really? That figures. Sable is a dick when it comes to contracts. I remember when I signed in AJWF, I got less than what I deserved. I didn't complain because I was still new and was fighting top talent, but I knew I deserved more. It happens, though. Everyone gets their taste of getting screwed over, which is why I wouldn't like to work for Sable again.

But. Who knows. People can change.

Dustin Kelser: ...and that's exactly why I think you should at least take it under consideration. Like I said bruh, I'm lookin' out for your best interests. You need to blow off some steam and get yourself into something. Sitting at home and drinking yourself into a coma while your wife and daughter come to their senses isn't gonna lead you anywhere.

Hell, you could even arrange some sort of part-time work I hear.

VIRUS: Part-time? Hmm. Well I know just sitting here and drinking isn't healthy, so I fix up boats and sell them. Gotta burn the time somehow. I train every once and awhile.

I just, I don't know man. Do you honestly think this is the best thing for me? To get back into it, again, and just..waste another three or four months of my time until I lose interest again and never want to wrestle again? It's like every time I try and come back, I just feel mediocre and it doesn't feel worth it.

(Mediocre feels like all I've ever been...I hope that's not true.)

Dustin Kelser: Well if that's your prerogative man, I can't change it. I just know what wrestling does for me, and what I used to think it did for you. If it doesn't bring you joy? Then fuck it dude, we'll still tee off every weekend and go back to doing what we always did. Just seems like you were bored with that too.

(A smirk.)

VIRUS: Bored with averaging four over par for every eighteen holes and watching you throw money at me because you thought you could out-drive me? Nah. You know I loved taking money off of you. By the way, did you work on how to position your grip to fit your swing like I told you to?

Dustin Kelser: Uh... no. Last time I hit the course, me and Enika spent all of our time trying to run over pigeons with the golf cart.

(I shake my head, yet can't help but laugh thinking about those crazy kids and the pigeons smashing into the cart shield.)

VIRUS: Haha. I can imagine. Well, tell you what. I will give CWA a try, but I will let Sable know specifically that I don't want to be a full-time wrestler. He will hire me part-time or he will never have me in his promotion. That way I can still fix up and sell boats, hit the links, and spend time with my family while I wrestle. I just hope this round goes better than last round. Fuckin' PHW.

You and I were better than that roster five times over. I don't know why we even bothered. And you know I hate talking about myself like that when I'm not on camera, but it's true.

Dustin Kelser: Hey man, facts are facts... I mean outside of Lucas Knight and TJ Jones, the place didn't really do it for me either. But just think, if we wouldn't have been there? We totally wouldn't have got to see Corey's career fall apart the way it did. Of course, Enika wouldn't have been laid up either... but eh, you see my point.

VIRUS: Reminds me of the song "Lost in Hollywood". Totally fits Laz's career's downward spiral. I'll burn that CD for you sometime. I'll get ahold of Sable tomorrow and we'll go over a potential contract. I'll let you know what happens.

(Dustin takes a final drink of his beer before chucking it at the dumpster on the opposite end of the patio. Naturally he misses and it lands in the grass preventing it from shattering into pieces, but it was a valiant attempt none the less. He then proceeds to stand up, getting in a good long stretch before taking off.)

Dustin Kelser: Good, good. If you need his number or any of that jazz, just give me a buzz later on and I'll send it right over.

(He goes to turn around, but suddenly remembers something.)

Dustin Kelser: Oh and before I forget, Enika told me to make sure and invite you guys over for dinner later tonight. She's gonna tempt fate with her shredded barbeque again.

VIRUS: That's nice. I haven't thrown up in a couple weeks anyway.

(The two share a laugh as Dustin makes his way through the side gate again and back to his car. I hear the engine turn over, then I hear it take off in the distance. I pound the rest of the beer left in this can and realize there aren't any left in my mini-cooler.)

time: monday evening, ten p.m.

day: february twenty-seventh, oh six.

place: bailey's bay, bermuda; engel residence.

(It's getting late. I need to get to bed soon. I never stay up too late on the weekdays, it's just not worth it. Plus, I like getting up in the early morning around here. It's gorgeous watching the sun rise...makes me a feel one step closer to Heaven. Chances are I probably won't get there, but I'll at least have seen what it might be like looking at the sunrise in Bermuda. People claim they've seen Heaven, or what it could be like. You have no idea what it's like to see the fresh morning sun glisten across the ocean and the waves silently and magically crash into the sophisticated, beautiful, and delicate beach. It's almost as if God painted that just for me. It's one of the few things that makes me feel good about myself anymore.)

(I see the video camera stored in the corner of my kitchen. I sit back in my seat at the table, debating if I should do this tonight or not.)

(What the hell. You only live once.)

(So I grab the camera and put it in its usual spot, getting a shot of the kitchen table, the floor-to-ceiling windows, and eventually the darkness of my backyard. The only thing that stands in the way of a clear view of it is me, but I'm not really standing -- I'm sitting, finishing a can of coke. Yup, coke. I needed some caffeine.)

(With a fresh tape inside the camera, I grab the remote. I hit record. It's showtime. No pun intended.)

VIRUS: I'm going to tell you all a little story. Sit back, relax, and enjoy because if you're viewing this, then you obviously need to pay attention. The story starts with a young man fresh out of the amateur leagues. He gets his big and first shot in the professional league and he grabs it by the balls, gaining every advantage he can get and grabbing every rung of success and fame he can. He does it so well, that he practically takes over an organization. It wasn't too long until the organization came to a halt due to front office problems, but he reigned as king. His FIRST professional promotion, he reigned as king. How many of you can say you did that? Yeah, and I bet half of you are lying.

At any rate, he was so proud of himself and of what he had done. Then, he went into a different professional league. It wasn't the same, but he had a lot of success too. He was beating big names, going toe to toe with some of the best the community had to offer, and winning most of the time. He didn't win every match, but he made quite the impression. He left his imprint on that place and would never be forgotten.

Then he won a community title, to add on to the one he already had.

Funny. This kid's first year in a professional organization and he's already got two community titles. Is he dreaming? Or was he just that good?

(A brief pause. I realize my can of coke is now very empty and I set it on the nearby kitchen counter.)

VIRUS: However, after his run in that second promotion, he disappeared. Never to be heard from. He did some very, very small runs in little-to-zero known federations, but he was pretty much out of the scene. To this day, we still don't know why he did that. He had fame and glory in the palm of his hand.

Then suddenly, he let it go. Like a feather in the wind, it drifted away from him.

Sad. Two years later, this same kid shows up out of the blue at an indy event and he beat two men twice his size in under a minute for a World Title.

He decides to get back into the professional league and does so, with a couple runs here and there. But it was never as good as it was in the beginning. Never. And chances are, it never will be. Once you've had that first taste of fame, glory, and success -- it's never the same ever again. To those of you who've had it, look back on your careers and tell me if anything was good as it was your first time around. You're lying to yourself if you say yes. The end.

I'd like to thank the academy.

(A grin. A smirk. I am...the voice of my own god.)

VIRUS: For those of you who don't know and care to know, that story is about me. It's as bleak as it can be, but it was. I had it. I had it all in the palms of my hands, but I just let it go. To be honest with you, I thought I did it for my family so I could be with them. I was set financially before I even stepped foot into a ring. It's nice when you have rich parents. It was never about the money. It was about the fame. It was about the talent and skill it involved. It was about making ten or so thousand people stand up and cheer for me, because they loved what I did for them.

They loved the fact that I gave them a show, and it was the best show they'd ever seen.

So I did that, week in and week out. Why would I just suddenly stop? I couldn't tell you. Some people thought I got burned out. That wasn't it.

I'm sorry I don't have an answer for you, but I'm here now -- once again, trying to make the world applaud me after I give them the best show ever. It will take time, like anything, but soon enough I'll have the arenas full of Virus fans.

And soon enough, this organization will be ruled by a king.

It's time for a renaissance. It's time to bring back the old glory. It's time to relive UHWA, for those of you that remember.

You think I'm kidding? You think this is a joke? Go ahead and laugh, I'll slap the taste right out of your mouth. I'll make you kneel before me and call me a god.

Because it's about time you all had someone to worship, because the CWA's current lackluster roster just ain't cuttin' it.

(Names run through my head of certain people that might cut it...but they'd have to go through me. In order to do that, you'd have to kill me. Good luck.)

VIRUS: So, at the next Aggression I hear there's a four on four tag match. I hear that I've got three people on the opposite side of the ring that I know and one I don't. I hear my entire team comprises of star after star. Let's start off with the person I don't know, whats-his-name. I can't remember. It's not American, I know that much.

Anyway. I hear you're kind of a big deal around this place. That's good. It's fun to start off fighting people that actually matter. Hey, does that mean I'm moving up in the world? Great. It's about fucking time. Sooner or later, the new people that want to sign up in this place are going to want a piece of me because, naturally, they think they're the best. They want to beat the best. See the difference there?

I've proven how good I am. They haven't.

I've spent five minutes of your time and I bet the ratings on my promo have gone up one hundred percent. That's how I know how good I am. So what's it going to be, man? I really wish I could remember your name. It'd be a lot easier, but hey that's what I get for not prepping. Yeah, like I ever prep anyway.

Oh, DUFF. Now I got it. It hit me like a train, man. That was insane.

I've got a score to settle with a couple other people in your team, Duff. So if you don't mind, stay the fuck out of my way and we won't have any problems. But, if you feel like you need to get knocked the fuck out, my fist would be happy to make your acquaintance. He loves meeting new people. I don't know you, don't know anything about you, don't know where you came from, and quite frankly I could care less. If you want to spew out bullshit about who you are and what you want to do, that's great. Go for it. I'm all ears. But don't think just because I've heard you're a big deal that I'll actually lift a finger to find out why. Why don't you prove to me in the ring why people should think you're a big deal, then I might be interested -- if you can do that, that is. Most people fail when they're against me.

I'm sorry, but as nice of a person as I try to be, I'm an asshole. And we all know assholes don't care about anyone but themselves.

No exception here.

(I smile a bit. Remembering a certain line.)

VIRUS: The Straders. Scott Nash? Payton? Hey, there's quite the combination. Man, I'm way in over my head now! I'm shuddering in my boots here. Wow. The Straders. It's almost like a dream and a nightmare come true.

The nightmare part being that the front office of the CWA actually thinks you have the skills and talent to go up against me...and the dream part being that I get to prove them wrong.

Because everyone knows you don't. Even you two know you don't. You won't admit it, but denial is a terrible, terrible cologne.

And you both wear it like it's Prom Night. Tsk tsk.

Payton, I recall us supposedly having a match a long time ago. ACW. Wasn't it at Lisa's indy event? Yeah, it was totally cancelled. That was crap, because I actually trained for that event. I really wanted to go out of the business with a bang by hitting the Euthanasia on your hick self. Tis all history, though.

History repeats itself. Here we are again, in a somewhat similar situation, and I'm eager to put your shoulders down to the mat for the one-two-three. Eager, boy. I'll do anything and everything I can within legal powers to do so. By the stretch of the imagination, I might even make you tap out. Yeah. I think that'd be funner. We'll see how I'm feeling come that Wednesday.

"Do I pin him? Make him tap out? Or just knock him square on his Texan ass and let the ref count'em out?" So many options, so little time. Don't fret, I'll have the solution when the time comes, kind sir.

(A crack of the knuckles. That felt good.)

VIRUS: Scotty Nash. That's your new name. It sounds so much better. Scotty Nash Strader! Oh yeah. You're going to thank me for that one day. Innovation is my middle name.

No Payton, you don't get a new name. I'm sorry, but there's not much I can do with "Payton". Maybe if you didn't have such a retarded first name, I'd actually come up with something. I'm not a miracle man.

Anyway, Scotty Nash. You and I...we've never fought. I've never had any problems with you, other than the fact that your last name is Strader. I've never liked them. Probably never will. They've messed with my family before, and quite frankly that makes me just a little frustrated. I don't particularly enjoy people fucking around with my family. People who do that end up in the morgue or the ER.

It's your choice, man. I know you're all pro-Strader now or whatever. Or maybe you're not, who the hell knows. I haven't kept up with anything in the past year with you guys.

Don't do anything stupid is what I'm trying to say here. I'm not that quick to judge because I've seen you in the ring. I've seen you on camera before. I know you're different than Payton, so maybe not all the Straders are the same. Maybe you're the exception. Maybe you actually have talent, whereas Payton and his twin brother don't. Who knows. We'll find out soon, won't we?

When it comes down to it, both of you lack the skill to compete against me. It's true. Now, does that mean I'll get the win? Nah. I ain't saying that, because the squared-circle is about as predictable as the New York Stock Exchange. Ooo. Bad example.

As predictable as a Drake promo. Ahh. No good.

As predictable as a Styx appearance. Yeah. I dig it.

But, you know what I mean. Anything can, and probably will, happen -- so I have be on my guard at all times. My pure talent, skills, and experience -- which, sorry to say, out-rank the fuck out of you two -- might not win me the match. It's sad, I know. I miss the times when your skill got you the win, but now-a-days you have to worry about who you're going against and who the fuck is going to come from backstage and put a lead pipe into your back. I hate worrying about that. I hate the people who have to resort to that kind of behavior. It pisses me off.

(A little flustered, I regain composure and come back.)

VIRUS: And last, but certainly not least, Marcus. How long has it been, man? I think the last time we exchanged blows was under Sable's flag as well. The good ol' AJWF. If I recall, I remember beating you and Randall Moran too. Yeap. I think I hit you with the finisher and pinned you. That was a fun night. Thanks for the win, bud.

That's alright, though. That was so long ago...how many years ago? Three? Wow. Time just flies by, but things come full circle and here we are -- back in the saddle again and ready to ride. You're on the wrong side again, Ambrose. I'm sorry that Sable had to book you against me -- again. He should know better. The main event should boast the top talent against the top talent.

I'm not seeing that here, fellas. I'm seeing top talent against mediocre talent. And guess what? I'm not mediocre. Neither is Dustin, Jacob, or Riona. So..I guess that leaves us one possible answer -- you four.

I mean, honestly, when you put the four of us together, anybody you pit us against looks mediocre. So, maybe I'm jumping the gun here. Maybe you're actually decent wrestlers, but you're barking up the wrong tree. Going upstream with no paddle, and all those funny sayings. Every team has a weakest link, I understand that. Invariably, that team is only as good as its weakest link when working together.

Do you see fucking weak link here? No, you don't. Virus -- Thunderwolf -- Protean -- Riona Langly. No weak links there. All of them have held their own in any, and all, federations they've been through and have done their fair share of glory runs. They've been with the best, they've beaten the best.

Come Aggression, all four of you are going to find that out the most unfortunate way possible. I apologize the match is so one-sided, though. I generally don't like that. But I don't call the shots. I don't make the rules.

Yet.

(A wink to the camera as I reach for the remote control. I hit stop and eject the tape. I lay the tape on the counter so I remember to mail it tomorrow morning. I put the video camera back in its place and breathe in deep, then exhale slowly. I shut the light off in the kitchen and walk to my bedroom. Climbing into my bed with my lovely wife, I begin to ponder about things. What would have happened if I didn't disappear after AJWF? Who knows.)

(Fade.)