We rejoin the broadcast to find the Eternal Ex Division Champion at the catering station with a twinkle in his eye, apparently gathering donuts and sweets on a plate, far more than he could possibly eat on himself. The curious cameraman cannot help himself but to inquire what exactly Our Villainous Leader was doing only nights before his match against AC Cobra at Summercide.

Cameraman: What are you up to Matsuda? Don't you hate American food?

Matsuda: Yup. I also /love/ setting cameramen on fire.

There is an awkward pause as the cameraman internally decides whether or not he should run away and avoid getting deep fried, though Matsuda breaks the silence with laughter.

Matsuda: I kid, I kid. By the way it's good to see you back in OCW, you looked goofy in that Best Buy uniform.

The Dear Leader piles on yet another crueler onto his plate, he graciously balances the small tower of sweets and places it on the table behind him.

Matsuda: You see, my friend, what I have hear is my patented "Cult Leader Catcher", because I am not just a Villain, I am a mastermind. I know good and well that kicking that Air Conditioning Reptile in the teeth this sunday won't put a single dent in the family. It won't stop the attacks. Hell, it'll probably piss them off more.

Matsuda: Most snakes are largely unaffected when you cut off their tail--well in this case its skinny fat asshole. Millions of years of evolution has granted the snake the power to grow it back.

Matsuda: But if you crush the head and drain the venom, well, you don't have much of a snake now do you, Chuck?

Matsuda takes a bite out of one of one of the donuts.

Matsuda: After all, I am a very greedy man, and three is hardly enough.

With his "Cult Leader Trap" in hand Matsuda steps out of frame, incorrectly humming his entrance music, "MAT-SU-DA CALL MY NAME".

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As the camera fades in to the backstage area, the abrasive sound of folding chairs crashing against concrete screams into the viewer’s ears. The camera pans to see Bobby Minio, one half of C4, stumbling along the wall away from the pile of chairs he had disturbed. Covered head to toe in sweat, Minio wears his pain like a cheap suit, showing clear signs of lingering damage from Pugh’s attack a few weeks ago, and a more present suffering from his match moments before.

Something instantly appears off, as his left arm, his dominant arm, hangs strangely at his side. He finally comes upon a corner leading to another backstage corridor, where he leans his weight at the chest against the white bricked wall.

Bobby Minio: C’mon Minio.

He speaks to himself, low, under his breath but loud enough for the camera to clearly transmit.

Bobby Minio: C’mon. C’MON MINIO.

His voice raises, he’s psyching himself up, and all at one, he lifts the weight from the wall, and in one motion, takes a sharp breath of air as he crashes his shoulder straight into the brick wall. He howls out, but almost immediately begins lining himself up for another go.

Bobby Minio: No quit, Bobby. There’s no time for quitting. C’MON. DO IT.

He slams his shoulder into the wall again, somehow with even more force. He uses the open end of the corner to put the rest of his body further than the wall, effectively throwing the weight of his body through the wall.

His arm still hangs with a lazy limpness. He lines up for one more go. Sweat is rolling over his brow and spit sits on his lips.

Bobby Minio: One more. One more make it count.

With what can only be described as part grunt and part shout, Minio rams his shoulder into the wall once more. His body jumps, his posture changes and finally, his left arm springs into motion. He lets out a sigh mixed with relief and strain, before moving his left arm around in small circles to double check his mobility. He leans down on his knees, gasping for heavy breaths now. He addresses himself quietly.

Bobby Minio: Keep pushing. Summercide. Pugh. Keep pushing and push him right out the door. Then we rest. Then we relax. Keep. Pushing.

He plants a hand on the wall, pushing his posture upright as he turns to see the camera. Judging by his reaction, a flash of annoyance before a sheepish step backward, it is the first time he noticed it. He adjusts himself, seemingly reigning in his composure, before nodding to the camera and walking briskly in the opposite direction. As Minio turns a blind corner, the scene fades out.

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AC enters the OCW ring with a displeased look. Bruises can still be seen from last weeks encounter with Matsuda and Mugen. Cobra walks over to the ring announcer to grab a mic.

AC- Last week was the exact reason The Family is here to change OCW 

The crowd begins to boo loudly.

AC- 2 spring roll assholes beat and that's who you cheer for?

AC- Matsuda isn't a champion,he's a coward who attacked the youngest guy on the roster to protect his spot.

Crowd continues the booing.

AC- He knows at Summercide his yearns from climbing the ladder, or having his back shattered across the wooden table.

AC- No prestige no heart no honor is what" Your Villain" brings to the EX division. After Sunday when the ref raises my hand as the new savior of the EX division you all will learn.

Crowd randomly chants Air Conditioning 

AC- Learn that not only am I physically,mentally,spiritually, looked in.

Crowd mocks AC and chants Air Conditioning again.

AC- But I'm ready to take down your beloved villain and do away with cartoon act then and only then will this go down as the most powerful group in the Nex Gen Era.

The camera zooms in on AC.

He walks out of the ring and spots a fan in the front row. The fan is wearing a Matsuda t-shirt which shows Suda holding up a AC unit as a prize.

The shirt frustrates AC as it's a mock against his name. He shakes his head and evil laughs up the ramp.

The scene fades.