You catch him now in a state of quasi-relaxation, drawing heavily from a cold bottle of water. He lowers the hood on his sweatshirt, takes a second long gulp, and breathes in and out. Heavy, as it always is. He can carry it, and he's going to carry it.

"Let me ask everyone here what it's called when you assume too much of yourself and people's perceptions of you. "Delusional" comes to mind... See when you're romanticizing unromantic views - and considering yourself just so fucking poetic for ripping that from the Drake catalog of early two-thousand - it doesn't make you a renaissance. It makes you a rip off of November ripping off the early Drake who was glorifying Twilight."

"Follow? Here, let me slow it down for you..."

Another long drag from the bottle. Crisp.

"Name value is and always will be what matters not in this community - but in this fucking sport. We build ourselves. We make our opponents trip over their words. Live by hype, or die because you can't build any. That's the rules of the trade. You train and perform in the ring, or I break your arm. That's the standard I've set for myself and for my opponents."

"But hey Lisa - you haven't set any standard that doesn't involve the words "bare" and "minimum". Not to mention the hypocrisy you spew, but I'll play dumb and pretend you aren't ripping off Jeff... just for the time being. A one-time appearance on the air doesn't constitute "stirring the pot". Its called "par for the course". I appreciate your effort, but there's only one person whose ever boiled over off of words alone - and since I'm playing dumb right now I can't really elaborate any further."

"Suffice to say this... you don't stand at the top of the cards - you no show them. You've made how many appearances in the last year that didn't involve typing over your computer? I can count them on one hand. And for the record - when you constantly push the refresh button in your browser window to make it appear as though people visit your web site? That's called "hit padding". And yeah. That was a "tacky" metaphor for your entire career."

"On an unrelated note, don't bother searching under the covers for Jacob's manhood anymore. His dick's never been big enough to push around this federation. Not ever."

He removes the sweater, revealing white Under Armor^tm. Its getting colder now, despite global warming.

"If you want to make an argument against my cause, you need to back it up. You don't like what I have to say? Rebut it, don't side step it. Get in my fucking face and push. If you don't, I sure as fuck will. I keep pushing, and pulling, until something breaks. Whether its a boundary or a wall in this business, or an arm on an opponent in the ring. That's my new flavor. My unrelenting ambition and disregard for dumb fucks who talk like they're approaching god-dam, but can't back it up not once."

"All week I've been working on the perfect counter to a fisherman's buster - can someone tell me what the fuck good its going to do me when Riley pulls the fifth community no-show in a month?"

"Stir the pot? Scramble some eggs? Here's something for ya - I posted Silverback's bail. No shit. And if you didn't know that I knew that? Fuck off. Its my job to know."

"And I do my job well. I'm an over-achiever. I see two title shots this week, and still consider jumping in on the Swifkicky invitational. That's called boiling over. That's called setting myself apart. My name is rising and you're all either drowning or asleep. Say what you will - nothing's come my way that I haven't earned."

"Its why I've laid out the challenges. Aarya Ranvir at Night of Armageddon? Here I'll make some more. Me and Jeffrey Drake versus Lisa Seldon and Thunderwolf at the next Fiction. Yeah, you heard me. Since I know Lisa won't accept a match against a younger star unless she has an out, I'll give it to her two of them. She can either blame the loss on Kelser, or she'll get really lucky and I'll be strung up on a scoreboard that night. Two outs so easy, its academic."

"Here's another challenge - me versus Nightstryker at Fall From Grace. Why you ask? My plans for tomorrow night's show have been amended. I've weighed the pros and the cons, and while some will criticize me, I'll simply point them in the direction of the boiling pot. I'll be leaving Mexico with only one title - and my brother's elbow. Custom's will have a field day."

She hasn't seen much of him since the holiday. This is how it has to be. See you next year.

Lightly fade to black.