Swingblade: "So what big plan do you have this time?"

Before responding to him, I light up a Marlboro and take a few drags. "What plan?", I ask my former employee. I take a few more drags from my cigarette. "You mean the plan that I have to eliminate your from the first round of the Bar Room Brawl?"

Sure, it may seem like a rude thing to say to someone more than likely joking around before a big event to relieve the pressure, but at this point in your career, if you are trying to play nice guy to get to the top, you aren't going to last very long. Especially not with someone that has been in the Wrassle[dot]Network for a time that doubles the time that he has been wrassling around.

Swingblade: "Why the hostility? I'm just trying to lighten the mood. But if you want to act like that, Mister Marco, I'll see you in the Robert E Lee Trailer Park."

He shakes his head and walks away from me. I chuckle to myself for a moment before inhaling my last puff of cigarette smoke. See, I have no reason to act the way I did towards him, but let me explain my position to you. I have one wish before I retire completely from the Wrassle[dot]Network... and that is to become the Bar Room Brawl champion. I don't care about a USOB. I don't care about a T3SOB. I damn sure never cared about the Smashmouth.

The first time I entered, I made it to the final round. I was defeated by Hardcore_K, which is how he got his Medal of Hono[u]r. It was a hard race to save the Wrassle[dot]Network from Davros's evil plan to take over, but HcK made it through before me and defeated him. The next time I entered the Bar Room Brawl was in Rome. Yes, Rome. The Gladiators would have rolled over in their graves had they been the undead. I lost to Aurora in the second round.

Now, I have Swingblade... a former student of mine. Someone that I consider one of my own. I will not fail the first round. It will be impossible. With every ion of veteran that I have in me, I will use every asset that I have about this business to ensure my victory in the first, second, and third rounds. I will hold that trophy.

Schizophrenic: "Are you done with your inner thoughts?"

The voice is one that I hadn't heard in a long time... it's an AWA legend. The man has been through more adversity with Alexis Monroe and the whole XCWA ordeal than anyone could have ever imagined being in. "Schizo. How's it been?"

Schizophrenic: "Swell. I heard you was going to be over here, so I decided to stop by before you headed out to the Trailer Park."

"I appreciate it", I ensure him. Extending my hand for a shake, I continue. "So are you going to head out to Trailer Park to watch me tear Swingblade to shreds?"

Schizophrenic: "Oh, I'll definitely be there. Matter of fact, you're going to skip the limo ride and show up with me. Give us some time to catch up."

"Sure thing", I tell him. At least it's going to get the match off of my mind. The whole airplane ride, I was thinking about ways that I could possibly lose... like if one of the inbreds that live in the Robert E Lee Trailer Park decided to drink too much alcohol and sneak me. "We need to get going though... the match is supposed to start soon."

We hasitly hop in to his '65 Ford GT Mustang and speed away from the airport. In only a few short minutes I am going to be fist fighting with Swingo to claim my throne as a higher and more talented wrassler than he is. Not only that, but go ahead with the next step and move on to the second round of the Bar Room Brawl.