He stands on the streets of Toronto. An empty pint of blood lays on the sidewalk at his feet. His clothes and body are covered in the red liquid. It runs down his forearms and drips from the tips of his fingers. Passers by stare in horror at Shane's sickening display. Does he care what they think of him? No. Let them think what they want it's not going to change anything about the situation.

Narrator: Shane has always played to his fans. He enjoys making them laugh. To him it's about entertaining the fans. If he cuts some good, funny, off the wall, promo's and then goes out and wrestles a great match then it's going to give the fans a reason to tune in next time. Shane's career is devoted to the fans. At least it WAS. Right now Shane is focused on himself, not his fans.

Several yards away, from where Shane stands, is an electronics store. Through the large plate glass window some, of the many, TV's can be seen. Each TV plays a different show. All the televisions are "muted" so the sound of 50 different shows doesn't distract the customers. Through the front window Shane catches a glimpse of something familiar. Facepaint. Travis Smith wears facepaint. Shane moves from his bloody spot on the sidewalk. He enters the electronics store. Immediately everyone in the store looks up. Their eyes catch sight of a man covered in blood. Their minds jump to the worst possible explination. Murder. Quickly all the patrons form a tight nit group and begins to push themselves into one corner of the store. The employee's of the store don't know what to do. This isn't a fire, or a rowdey customer. This is far beyond their capabilities.

Shane walks up to the nearest TV, a 52" Sony Wega. Shane takes the remote, which sits nearby. He flips through the channels until he reaches the USA network. Once the channel comes up Shane hits the mute button on the controller, restoring the sound. Within seconds of flipping to the USA Network Travis's latest promo comes up. He's in Toronto. Shane watches intently. His eyes never waver, they stay locked on the painted face of his enemy. Travis's promo ends and the station cuts to commercial. Shane stands, watching the television for a few moments longer, before reacting. He drops the controller from his hand, letting it fall to the carpeted floor. He brings his foot down on top of the controller, crushing it. As he turns to leave the store one of the employee's looks as if he's going to say something about what Shane just did. He approaches Shane, but gets nowhere. Shane walks past the man, not even acknowledging his presence. He exits the store and witout waiting crosses the street. Cars slam on their breaks to aviod hitting him. One of the more threatening drivers leans out his window and starts yelling at Shane.

Driver: You stupid piece of $hit. What the fu(k are you doing?

Shane stops in the middle of the street. He looks directly at the driver. Once the man catches sight of Shane he quickly shuts up. The blood on Shane's clothes, no doubt, brought some menacing images to the driver's mind. Shane turns back and finishes crossing the street. He steps up onto the sidewalk and continues walking. He walks straight on through the entrance of a Second Cup coffee shop.

Second Cup is Canada's answer to the American Starbucks.

Shane walk up to the counter and orders some sort of Brazilian coffee. The workers behind the counter waist no time in getting his order. They don't want any trouble and hope that he'll just go away if they give him what he wants. He recieves his coffee, drops several dollars on the counter and then walks over to a table and sits down. He lays the two packages of O- blood, he's been carrying, on the table. Shane takes a slow sip of his coffee.

Narrator: Seems a little unusual. A man who's just robbed a blood drive is now sitting in a coffee shop sipping imported coffee. One might think that something inside of him has just snapped.

Shane turns in his seat, slightly, and looks out the picture window next to him.

Shane: That's it Travis. You've pushed me as far as I'm willing to go. It's time for me to start pushing back. Sunday is going to mark a time in your life that you're constatnly going to think about. You're always going to wonder if you made the right choice by involving my family in this. I know you think it's the right choice now, but you may be reconsidering that following Sunday. Somethings can't be changed, this is one of them. You made a decision that is forever going to change my life, and yours. Be prepared for the winds of change.

Shane takes another sip of his Brazilian coffee.

Shane: What do you have to say Brandon? Any more wisdom from the Unified Champion? I've discovered something inside myself that you were never able to reach. It's violence, loathing, and uncontrolled agression. Blood will be shed on Sunday, there's no doubt about that. Maybe it'll be mine. Maybe I'll bleed for Travis and make your job easier. Then again....what happens if I step into the Main Event with more hatred toward you than ever before. Bleeding may be the least of your worries.

Shane looks down at the two pints of blood laying on the table. He places his hand on them, feeling the blood shift and resist against his touch.

Shane: Already my hands are stained, not just on the surface but deep to the bone.

Scene fades with Shane sipping his coffee.