FADE IN on Jason Payne standing in front of an EPW banner. His shoulder length hair laying lazily about his face. His eyes covered in dark sunglasses, a sneer passes over his lips. He is wearing a black T-shirt with no sleeves, showing off some of his muscular arms. As the picture fades in, Payne immedately luanches into his verbal assault.
Payne: "I was hoping I could start things off here in EPW with a big win. but it seems that wasn't the case. Dragon, don't think for a long shot that me and you are finished. You got me once, but it won't happen twice, I can guarantee you that. But that is neither here nor there. That is the past, and this is the present. And Russian Roulette is the future, and looking into your future Benjamin, it doesn't look too good. Now don't go thinking that I disrespect you. Far from it. You see, you are going to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. In the ring, with me in a pissed off mood."
Payne shifts his footing a bit. Reaching up he removes the glasses, revealing his dark borwn eyes that radiate fury.
Payne: "You see, if I was in a better mood, I would be inclined to let you walk out of Russian Roulette with some of your bodily funtions still in check. However, Aggression changed all that. Benjamin, if I were you, I wouldn't bother showing up because when it comes down to it, it ain't gonna be nothing fancy. It's not going to be a technical master piece. It's going to be the Dog of War chomping down on you with everything he's got. Unfortunately for you, everything I got, is going to be too much to overcome. Count on it."
Payne just stares at the camera with his furious glare as the camera FTB.