time: tuesday afternoon, later

day: march twenty-fifth

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

(Warren and I have moved into the house. No more beer, no more sentimental conversation. There's aggression and hatred filling the air, but not between my brother and me. I cannot simply control it. I hit record on the video camera.)

WARREN: Here's where I'd extend my congratulations to Helix for putting an end to my streak and taking my title away from me. Only in a fairytale world, though. There wasn't a happy ending, good didn't overcome evil. I was simply screwed out of my title. While you were trying to pin me...messily, I might add...I clearly had my foot on the bottom rope. That breaks a pin.

But, since this isn't a fairytale world, the blind referee didn't see it. And I lost. I'm a man of fate, and perhaps this is a sign I need to be moving on. And I have, into the main event. I get to go against two men who have done nothing but cause my brother pain and misfortune.

VIRUS: Two men that simply have no idea what they're up against. Trevor, if you think a quiet whisper from you and Duff will do anything more than cloud the air, then you're mistaken. Once again, you've done nothing to show me you're a new breed of the Masters. You're simply a carbon copy of any lapdog that has graced a federation under the Masters' flag.

Your leader is a carbon copy of Styx.

While you condemn me for talking too loud and groveling, you're a walking cliche of unoriginality. I've said this once, and I'll say it again. I want you to show me why I should take you seriously. I want you to show me why I need to not laugh when I hear about the Masters.

Do you think coming up with a scheme to lure me into a trap is anything new? Have you been living under a fucking rock? That was the MoA's tagline for years. You aren't a group of elite, you're a group of talentless hacks who get their rocks off an eight on one beatdown and almost ending somebody's life.

It doesn't prove to me you're elite. It only proves to me you're a joke.

WARREN: Ridel wasn't a joke, though. I will give him that. You do have a fearless leader, whose name alone can shake the foundations of many men. But, the buck stops there. The talent, the fear; it ends with him. Had he made a decision to return to wrestling, instead of sending you, Trevor, we might be playing a different ballgame. We might be strategizing differently.

But he hasn't. And we'll play the game we want, and destroy you.

I appreciate your forewarning, though. I understand you're trying to drive a wedge between my brother and me, saying I shouldn't be looking to him for guidance. Where should I look? To you? My brother is right, you're a lapdog.

I want to be better than you, Trevor.

(A pause between us both. We try to let that sink in.)

VIRUS: Trevor's going to realize you are better than him. They both will realize that the Engels will always rise above the Masters, in every way, shape, and form. We've done so since two thousand two, while my brother Joe and I were taking on different incarnations of the group. Since you haven't proven to me you're no different than the garbage that plagued the AOWF so many years ago, we will simply rise above you again.

And again.

And again. Perhaps this time around will be a much different kind of challenge. Maybe you will prove to me that you're elite, and you can actually last in the ring against us. Just maybe. But until you do, your ambient threats of total control and quiet whispers fall on deaf ears.

I didn't see your control against The Phoenix. You want to talk about pathetic? You barely escaped. You can argue all you want that you had the match won, but you made the mistake of pulling him up when you had him beat.

And it almost cost you. Had you not fallen in the right place, Robinson would be polishing his new title right about now. I dare you to make the same mistake against us. I dare you to underestimate us, and try to make a statement. Rest assured, Warren and I would respond with brute force. If I aimed my hate at you, Trevor, it wouldn't be misdirected.

I still owe you. Let's not forget that. I misdirected my hate towards Wilkie, and I came up victorious in disputably one of the better matches I've had here in Pioneer Wrestling. Imagine if my hatred wasn't misdirected. Imagine if it was long overdue.

There's no stopping us, Trevor.

WARREN: Offer me freedom then, Trevor. Offer me a chance to realize my true potential. Please. Because when you think about it, being a lackey in your group doesn't bode well to the whole "true potential" bit. Freedom? Sure, what Ridel gives me, and I assure you it's not much freedom at all. Do you think I live under a tyrant's rule? Is that what your Master has been telling you?

Keyword, master. You have to answer to somebody, Trevor. I answer to myself. I win matches for myself.

My brother takes and takes because people have been trying to take and take from him. He's only returning the favor. You pretended to take his wife away, and he won't be pretending to take you out at your knees. You took his pride away for a split second when you lured him into a trap, and rest assured he'll be looking to take away your pride for a second when so-called Masters' elite gets pinned by a man you deem to be a slippery slope.

Corey crossed the line, and attempted to take away Matt's career. He will continue to return the favor.

It has been take and take for a long time, Trevor, but my brother and I will certainly give you our best and we can only hope you take it well when you find yourself over-matched, and over-fucking-whelmed.

(Warren stops for a moment. I look at him, to see if he wants to continue. He doesn't look at me, but I assume he's done for the moment.)

VIRUS: I'll be looking forward to showing the PWA just how "elite" the Masters really are. I'm going to run circles around you until you've passed out yet again. I'm going to show your gigantic friend what it's like to be beaten down by someone much, much smaller than him.

Oh...wait, Riona beat me to it. Damn.

I got it; I'll show him that, and it won't be AS embarrassing because I'm not a woman.

I do not forgive.

I do not forget.

WARREN: Take care, strangers.

(fade.)