Our scene quietly opens up outside of the infamous Kansas City Treasure Chest, the haven of Logan Treasure and former training ground for Russell Morris and Tommy Drake. Slowly the camera quietly walks on the barren south side streets, the light hanging over head illuminating the ground below him. With a stomp of each shoe he slowly nears the emptied gym, looking inside as if searching for someone. That special someone who can for a good five minutes illuminate life into the camera. The darkness inside hints that nobodies there, barren like Marky Chang's desire.

    Camera Man: "Damn.."

Suddenly the drop of a glass bottle is heard as it smashes to pieces. The sound more so a throw as the camera quickly turns to the direction of the sound, his right. His voice picks up as he can slowly hear the sound of boots stomping upon ground in a steady pace. The sound of water splashing as the mysterious lurker's feat hit the puddles. Slowly the camera man walks over and looks into the shadowy alley in which these sounds originate from. Slowly an overhead light hands loosely, the light swinging back and forth as it shows a shadowy figure and swings closer, showing his grizzled bearded face, and the top of his shirt as it slowly walks away. The camera just looks on in silence until the man speaks up.

    Man: "You going to stare at me all day or do you dare to step into this dark ally way in the middle of Kansas City and take you chances tool?"

The sound of a large gulp is heard as the light continues to swing. The man is obviously "The Systematic Assassin" Logan Treasure from his obvious menacing voice and the mere mention of the word "tool" is a light toward the viewers way. Slowly the camera man moves ward, the sound of his hand trying to find the light button on his cam corder as he finally finds it, the small spotlight emitting from the top of his camera as the screen ignites in light before the swinging light's turned off and the camera man steps back, slowly getting Logan into the picture as he zooms in. He appears to be in a green dress T-shirt with cotton stripes made into it, khaki's with a brown leather belt and his Doc Martin Boots. He rests against the brick wall, his left hand idly flipping a golden dollar coin.

    "Marky, Marky, oh Marky. What a wonderful set of friends you have. Oh how they diligently strive to make sure my security is unbalanced for when you step into our match not ready to deal with the assassin. You see Marky by having your friends speak for you what kind of person does that say? One who is not man enough to even step up to the soap box and play his own music? To comment back? Chang I admire that you've taken my words to heart but its the great Bandleader a god amongst ants or a coward amongst the village idiots? Oh how Kim has such hopes that you'll get back on track with great focus and determination. Yet when I last remembered wasn't the Chang gang speaking of you getting back on track upon your return. And you were doing good too until you purposely lost a match to a man you've made look a fool many of times just so you could fight your friend guilt free. Because you knew you could beat Brujah. You knew you could easily take the "low aim" approach of yours and rule the lower ranks with that Generation Title reign you could never have against Somers. Brujah was easy. All it took was a kick to his knee and the Music and he would of be done. But you like the two team members who face each other at their brackets final at a wrestling tournament you were timid and let him win for the better of "him" who will of coarse end up losing to Kakuma anyway. It becomes full circle Chang. Your nothing but a sheep in wolves clothing. And your scared that they'll finally suspect you for what you've become."

Logan tilts his neck to his right, a loud snap sound resounding in the echoing ally way as he straightens his neck out from popping it and rolls it out, his eyes refocusing on the camera, his face displaying that classic mood of apathy. Yet it wasn't, his eyes showed a fierce tenacious glow in the darkness as he sneered and spit on the ground below him.

    "Kim speaks of outlasting the assassin. Sure she has all the tapes in the world to back that up, but when you step into the ring with me Chang. And let irritate this to you. You are stepping into the ring, walking the walk. Not Andy, not kim, not this TWF Camera man, you. All the stamina can't save you. All the speed and martial arts can't save you. Your facing me in my craft that I've perfected and best of all, my home turf. It doesn't matter how focused it is but your walking in on the home field of TWF's greatest assassin. I'll admit that you could easily step it up and prove to be much more of a challenge. Hell you might beat me in some cases. But the ring rust as has faded. And your too worried about being a shell of your former incarnation while I'm concerned about breaking your left leg. Do you think I'll show compassion? Do you think I'll give you any chances to come back? Make no mistake about it I will be a flawless, cold, killing machine with one intent in mind. And that is to make the former legend slam his hand to the mat and quit because he can't stand the pain. He can't stand the humiliation any longer, he can't stand to even face himself in the mirror. He just wants to end. Your plagued by Wells and Blazer while the thoughts of Clayborne will hibernate until it's time to deal with him."

Logan slowly walks closer the camera, his eyes focused right into it, as if compelling the viewers to act upon his whim as he slams his fist into his empty palm. The view focused on his upper body and head.

    "As you let your friends speak for you Marky do you really think that they know what they are talking? Do they not understand that Marky Chang is a person, not a machine? No, they don't. They see you as the man they'll hang onto as you reach success and bask in it. They don't care about your demon. Their words are empty. Listen to them. They encourage you with hopeful words of being in a big card match. But what happens when you lose to me. And then you lose again. And again. And you find yourself at Critical Limit facing Fred Debonair in an opening match. Then what Marky? Do you leave the TWF to never show your face again? To go off and ponder what really made the legend of Marky Chang tick? What component was lost over those months of rest. Or will you start fresh, start a new Marky Chang. Attempt to clean the slate from all the failures and remarkable that happened over the years and begin again. Start out with a new Marky Chang. Either option makes no impact on your immediate future. Your going to step into the ring and be humiliated, as the crowd will cheer or jeer me. You'll be left in a puddle of tears and sweat as you slowly ponder if you should stand up. Why should I? Marky Chang lost to a man, not a mythical being like LVE who brought you god sends of matches. But a man or a machine. Depends on how you want to view me."

Logan gives a malicious little grin into the camera. He idly pops his knuckles in his palm as rolls his left wrist out and gets further into the camera's face, his voice shifting to a more accusing voice, an verbal abuse tone or so.

    "Chang you've been disgraced and it plagues you. I admit it, Somers barely got the better of me on one occasion. I didn't hide in my shell and have my friends speak for me. I got the fuck over it. Somers has some skills, no matter how much I hate to say it. Somers beat me true, but in the end who's spitting cheese ball lines about cup cakes and who's kicking ass. Surely he is with his second upcoming defeat upon that fuck Wells but that's not important. Logan's back in the game and he's done one better then you have Chang. You were defeated by the legendary Jared Blazer. No shame in that. He's a mountain of fake muscle and power maneuvers to deal with. I don't consider a draw much better then a loss but at least I wasn't pin to the mat by him. I overcame every expectation and was taking Blazer to his brink. If that count out wouldn't off happened, if the match continued you know who would of won. I would of. I would of put the Next Best Thing to shame. A loss to a mere "dime a dozen" or "ride by night" character. Hide in the shadows. Fight you demons. Pray that you have the music beating inside you just like your slowly fading heart beat. What if the last beat of the drum is the last beat of your heart? The last beautiful riff or horn section?"

Logan looks down imposingly at the camera man, he slowly raises the camera to get an intense view of Logan, his beard reflecting like the mane of a lion as he growls down into the camera, his voice intense.

    "Your friends can make all the god damn promises they want! They can attempt to assure me you'll deliver. What I find funny is that through out it all their is not a single doubt about my skills. They call my sidelined by Clayborne but let me put those thoughts to rest. Clayborne as of now is dead to me! Chang prepare to feel to feel your fear sneak up on you as we circle the ring! Prepare to feel your anger as it kills you deep inside how badly your getting stopped. Prepare to feel your HATE for me and everything I do to DESTROY YOU! PREPARE TO FEEL THE PAIN AS YOU ARE HUMILIATED IN-FRONT OF ALL YOUR ADORING FANS AND THOSE SHITS YOU CALL FRIENDS AS THEIR HOPES ARE CRUSHED LIKE THAT!"

Logan suddenly stops the intense yelling, slowly calming as he gives a little grin and begins to slowly exit the ally way, the camera turning as Logan leaves some last words.

    "Come Sunday there will be no music delivered to anyone. There will only be your worst fears becoming truth. Sleep well musician."

Fade to Black