Cort Marshall stands backstage with Jim Black, who's looking a little confused.

Black: Would you like to tell the fans exactly what you have here, sir?

Cort smiles.

Cort: I sure would. As you can see, maggots of OCW, I have prepared a simple demonstration.

He sweeps his hand over the standard, mostly-breakable ™ wooden table in front of him. On it are two baguettes and a bagel.

Cort: Since I am the patron of history and culture that I am, I would like to give you all a little preview of the Quebecois cultire ahead of my match with Flynn.

Black looks like he realizes what's coming, and puts a hand over his face. Cort picks up a baguette and the bagel, and starts shoving the baguette into the bagel.

Cort: You see, this is how we do it in the rest of the world.

He takes a bite out of the bagel and tosses it behind him without looking; it hits Black in the chest. He then grabs the second baguette, and smacks it against the first while nodding at the camera.

Cort: And this... is how they do it in Quebec. Any questions, Black?

Black: No, no, I think we get the point. It's not like you don't insinuate something nasty about everyone you have matches with, after all.

Cort: You're damn right I don't usually in-sin-you-eight! I tell it to their faces right after they get a poke in the eyes and a kick in the gut! But the french, you see, are a culture of art and subtlety and constant wartime surrender! I decided it was best to insult my opponent in the way his own people would; a confusing yet somewhat uncomfortably sexual performance art display.

Black: I just have to ask... you do know he's Scottish, right?

Cort stares at him.

Cort: But he's wearing babysh*t blue and white! The colours on the fleur-de-loser! Are you telling me I spent all this time and three whole dollars of my hard-earned money on this racial stereotype joke and it wasn't even the right continent?

Black: That's the gist of it, yes.

Cort sighs.

Cort: Can we do it over?

Black: We're live.

Cort: TARNATION!

Cort picks up and throws a baguette with force past the camera.

Cort: It doesn't matter! I'll do it live!

Cort: You! Your people are the kind of drunks who walk outside of the grimy bar and pick a fight with a lamppost, then lose! Your entire country is depressing enough that your national hobby is drinking until you forget you live there!

Cort: You whine about the British but if they weren't there to stand your wobbly arse up you'd all have been embroiled in civil war over beer and crappy sports already!

Cort: Your accents are harder to understand than your contribution to the world at large! Your national hero is a fictional groundskeeper! And you all smell like the rear end of the sheep you're having an affair with behind your wife's back!

As Cort's yelling, Jim Black is slowly edging his way out of the frame. By the time he's calmed down, Cort is alone in the room with the cameraman.

Cort: And you. H2O. You came back, huh? Like the trailer trash wife that gets beat but still comes back for more. Good for you. Maybe your dad will be a bit less disappointed in you. At least until you lose to me... again. See you whenever you got the balls, waterboy!

The camera pans to the announce team.

	Why is he so angry!
	Because he is a god dam patriot!

The Camera Pans To The Ramp!

The camera pans to the announce team.

	Good god almighty!
	Woah!

The scene opens with a view of Dennis Black talking on his cellular phone in the deepest parts of the Madison Square Garden. He rolled his eyes as he listened to the person or persons on the other end of the conversation.

Dennis: No I wasn’t rolling my eyes. Honest.

Dennis started walking toward the camera with a grin on his face.

Dennis: Absolutely, Heather never saw it coming. No regrets. She outlived her purpose. Now my focus is Large Edward and Jackson. I don’t care what Nate said...this is MY pay per view. It isn’t Ortiz Sunday.

Dennis: Montgomery Sunday, Cesar Sunday, or Sensation Sunday.

Dennis paused in his tracks and nodded several times at the responses.

Drago pops from around the corner with the OCW title on his shoulder. The audience cheers at the scene on the X-Tron. Dennis glared at the OCW Champion.

Dennis: Speak of the Devil...I’ll call you back.

Drago: Bye Jack. Hope foot get well soon.

Dennis hangs up the phone and the two men stare at each other for what felt like several minutes.

Dennis: So is this how you’re going to do it? Attack me in a dark hallway?

Drago looks the Turmoil Champion up and down.

Drago: I'm have big issue with you. But if we gonna do this, we settle out there. I'm not coward. Not stoop down to hurting someone like you did.

Dennis: So you're just a thief, then? Anyway. Take care of yourself Drago. From what I hear...you only have a few choice strikes left to your head before…

Dennis pats the OCW title on Drago’s chest with his hand while humming funeral music. Drago shrugs Dennis’s hand away and the Turmoil Champion strolls off.

Drago: Hm...

Drago stares at Dennis as he walks away, we fade to a shot of Drago with his head lowered, his eyes staring sideways.

The camera pans to the announce team.

	Dennis Black Jerk.....
	HOW DARE YOU!

Cort Marshall vs Flynn

The camera pans to the announce team.

	On the button!
	Ouch!

* Arnaud is limping to the back with Charles Young following *

Young : Uhm boss ?

Arnaud : Not now!

Young : But boss .

Arnaud : What! What is it ?! What could you possibly want,right now?

Young : Well what happened tonight? I thought I was going to see .......

* Arnaud puts his hand up *

Arnaud : Not another word. I never lose, I only have minor setbacks! This is not the end but a revival of a awesome career!

Young : What about m.....

Arnaud : Shhhhhh I'm focused right now!

The camera pans to the announce team.

	Well that's one way to look at it.
	Whatever it takes to cope!

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