Okay, it’s not the lone corridor in the arena, there are many more, and it’s not actually dark, the XWA actually can afford lighting. What? Can’t a guy set the scene anymore without things such as the facts getting in the way?
Skip Sanders: What’re you talking about Trace? I’ll just organise a group of the most expendable LSA members and...
Trace Demon: No! Don’t you bloody listen Skip? The Legion is banned from ringside, which includes the LSA. I’m going into this alone.
Skip Sanders: It’s fine. Most of the LSA are expendable anyway, that’s the whole reason Jack got me to bring them in, and don’t try and pretend it isn’t. They come in, they take care of Hutton Brown, then they get kicked to the curb. It’s not a problem.
Trace Demon brings his palm to his face in a dramatic manner, displaying the frustration that he is feeling. It’s a surprise this man hasn’t won an award already.
Trace Demon: You obviously don’t understand Skip. I don’t want any help tonight. I didn’t come into the XWA just so Legion could fight my fights for me. I know ‘we are one’ and all that, but the sooner you realise that you have to look out for yourself now and again, the quicker you’ll see exactly what Jack is doing.
Skip Sanders: And what is Jack doing Trace? What is the kid that I trained doing that you know about and I don’t?
Trace Demon: He’s using you Skip. You think you or the LSA are important, thing again. We’re important. Me, Jack, Savonarola. We are the ones that matter. You and the LSA are a means to an end. Jack sees that, I see that and I’m a little disappointed a man as smart as you fails to see that.
Skip Sanders: If you’re so important Trace, then why do you think your too good to have the LSA take out Hutton Brown tonight before he takes you out?
Trace Demon: For that reason exactly. Everybody expects Hutton Brown to take me out. That’s not why I’m here. I’m here to make sure everybody realises that I can destroy any single wrestler who steps into that ring with me, and that includes Hutton Brown. I do this on my own, I win this match on my own, and I prove exactly how dangerous the XWA can be, you understand? You do your job and keep the LSA in check and I’ll do mine and beat Hutton Brown. That alright with you?
Skip simply nods and walks off. Trace shakes his head, still very much frustrated with the men he has to work with. Seriously, get this guy an award already, he’s incredible! Trace turns around and begins walking down the hall when from around the corner steps Michael Hart, the man formerly known as Tempest, in his newly ironed and pressed referee gear.
Trace Demon: Looking good Tempest... or should that be Michael Hart.
Michael Hart stares at Trace, hatred in his eyes. He doesn’t speak but he doesn’t move either, blocking Trace’s path. Trace’s cocky demeanour quickly gives way to one of sympathy.
Trace Demon: Listen Michael, this isn’t what I had in mind when I got your little girlfriend to let your contract expire. The last thing I intended was for Rated X to screw you over like this. I know what it’s like to sit on the sidelines and watch others get the glory. How about we put this one behind us?
[Tag to Michael Hart]