[The camera crackled and sizzled until finally the faint outline of a face appeared immediately in front of the screen. The smiling visage of Marcus Gaines peered into the camera lens then backed himself away from the camera until the darkness of the room he found himself in enveloped him, and the camera could no longer distinguish where he had gotten to. A few silent seconds drifted by lazily until a soft click could be heard and the entire room lit up revealing what could only be described as a sterile environment, all walls were painted in off-white, and nothing else other than white.]

[Marcus stood in the center of the room, several feet from the camera, he looked at something or someone that was evidently beside the camera with a smirk. He shifted his head to one side similar to that regarding glance a dog gives it's owner when it doesn't understand what the hell the "master" is talking about. Marcus paced around in a tight circle tapping his bottom lip with his finger, obviously thinking of what to say or what to think of. He stops his repetitive pacing and looks at the thing next to the camera with a grin.]

Gaines: Well, I'm back now aren't I? Not a very long absence, but it was an absence all the same. And you look so damned surprised to see me. Just let me it break down for you, "home boy". There I was stewing in a prison cell I was being forced to call home for who knows how long, when apparently, someone pulled some strings for me. Imagine my surprise at thinking there was someone in this world who gave a damn about l'il ol' me?!

[He pauses and begins pacing again, and on occasion his glance turns sideways towards the thing the camera can't see with a scornful glance. His feet begin making a squeeking sound everytime he turns to stride in the opposite direction that he had previously gone.]

Gaines: And so there I am. On the outside of the prison walls viewing the world in all of it's oftentimes temporary splendour, and I'm thinking to myself, who in the hell lifted my a** out of the slammer? I figured it had SOMETHING to do with the GWA seeing as in my list of possessions, there was a GWA calendar of events. And I sure as HELL wasn't caring that around when I got arrested.

[He stops and moves forward several steps until his figure is almost looming in the camera screen, but the background hasn't completely been diminished by his presence. He leans on something that the camera can't quite see, but it is there all the same.]

Gaines: So I'm thinking, let's just see what is happening with the GWA since I've been gone. And lo and behold, a royal rumble with Barret Whistler involved, and something about an Olympic title shot. This just kicked my a** all over the place. My mind began hatching schemes to get myself into this match in some way to screw monsieur Whistler over at least half as badly as he did me.

[He stands completely upright and walks a few steps away from the camera, and begins pacing in circles again, occasionally looking in the direction of the camera, and the unseen presence next to it.]

Gaines: Now, I'm just thinking about revenge, when somehow, a car pulls up to me, who is casually standing outside the gates of my previous home minding my own business. The guy tells me to get in, he's some man from the GWA who has come to set me up in some sort of accomodations. I take the ride figuring if the freak tries anything queer I'll knock his block off.

[He pauses pacing to think about his words, as if wording them carefully before uttering them to the camera and whoever else is unseen.]

Gaines: So along the way to the hotel, this guy is telling me some rather interesting things. He's saying that none other than Sean Fury got me out of prison simply to do him a favour. By this time I'm trying to think of what favour I could possibly do for Sean Fury that wouldn't entail me dressing up like Little Bo Peep, or anything else of that bizarre nature.

[He begins pacing again, walking off camera for a second, then comes back onto the screen with a wide grin on his lips. He looks at the thing he has been for most of the time we've seen him, and begins pacing back and forth.]

Gaines: So I get to asking what sort of favour Fury has in mind, you know? I'm eyeing this guy, getting ready to pop him a new word-hole. And he says some of the most surprising stuff I've ever heard. It just so happens that apparently, Fury wants to fire Barret Whistler, and he can't think of any better way of doing it than having me personally deliver the pink slip! Can you believe that? I know I can 'cause it happened. I guess that it seemed fitting to Fury that I do it, especially if it's immediately after a triumph of some sort. Isn't that priceless?

[Marcus stops, and looks at whoever it is off camera that he is speaking to, waiting for them to answer his question, no sound other than a slight whisper, but it isn't anything human, let alone audible.]

Gaines: And so I agreed to do that, mainly because I see no problem with it, and I was most likely going to do it anyways. And I guess you know what happens next. To tell you the truth I'm a little worried that there is some catch to this deal, I mean Fury said nothing about me having to clean the bathrooms with my tongue or anything, but with that guy you never can tell. He simply said that the only thing I had to do was fire one, Barret Whistler, and give him a good beating, and then I'd be happily reinstated on a full-time basis with the GWA. All that stuff in the past, it is no longer an issue, forgive and forget, live and let live.

[Marcus moves off camera again, a faint creaking sound is heard, then Marcus walks back on camera.]

Gaines: So now that that is all over with, here I am today, thinking what exactly my main priority is. I think that the whole wrestling situation can only get better. I'm going to derive so much pleasure when I manage to regain a shot at the Gladiator title. And I don't think I have to tell you how hilarious it's going to be when I manage to steal Debra. Things are most definately looking up for the Gaines-meister, wouldn't you say?

[Marcus stops pacing and looks at the person or people off camera, his face turns from a grin into a look of pity. He walks over to the camera placing his face near the lens.]

Gaines: Oh come on, Barret. I figured you of all people would like to hear the truth, the whole truth and nothing but?

[The camera awkwardly swivels sidewats to reveal a hospital bed, with a Barret Whistler laying limply on top of it. His leg and part of his upper body is clamped together with casts and bandages, his neck brace forcing him to look out of the corner of his eyes. His mouth is full of black tape of some kind, moistened at the point where it rests inside of his mouth. A look of extreme anger resounds throughout his broken body as it lays there under it's own admission. Marcus moves the camera back a ways so as to pick up more of the bed with Barret laying in it. Marcus moves in closer to talk to Barret.]

Gaines: Don't worry Barret. It could be much worse. I could have crippled you.

[Marcus looks peacefully at Barret before moving away to a crouch near the bedside.]

Gaines: So yeah, I got you back. Now I guess you never to f*ck around with me again, now don't you?

[Gaines waits for an answer, but Barret is as previously mentioned, unable to speak.]

Gaines: Well, I'll just ASSUME that you understand.

[Standing up out of his crouch, he sits softly on the bed beside Barret.]

Gaines: From my perspective there aren't any hard feelings between you and I. You tried your damndest to f*ck me up, and you failed, I'm sure you aren't the first to try, and you definately won't be the last to fail miserably at it. I got a match on Wednesday it seems, if you're interested. And I'd think you would considering that it is in fact for a title. That is what you want isn't it? A title to call your own? To have and to hold till death do you part? Doesn't look like that is going to happen now does it?

[Marcus smirks as he investigates Barret's neck brace closely.]

Gaines: Apparently I'm up against some guy named Stryker. Should be a funny shin dig. I didn't even know there WAS a stryker besides those guys in soccer. I checked the roster, sure enough no such guy. So, with any luck, this Stryker mamma-jamma is just the figment of everyone's imagination. Know what sort of bothers me though? It'll be one of the first times I've wrestled someone much taller than me. I mean Stryker is around seven feet tall.

[Marcus snorts out a chuckle.]

Gaines: And to be honest, I didn't know they stacked piles of sh*t that high!

[He laughs loudly, banging his fist hard on Barret's bad leg, forcing him to wince in pain.]

Gaines: Ah well. I'm sure this loser will find some way of sneaking his pal, this uhm... she-male Reina Saiaki into the match. It's the law of the jungle, Barret. Kill or be killed, or something like that. Apparently Stryker only weighs about.... what two hundred and something pounds? What kind of bean-pole is this guy? Well, I suppose I'll soon see won't I? It's always funny to see who the GWA booking staff is going to throw my way.

[Marcus stops as if he had just experienced an epihone of some sort, his face goes blank, and slowly a look of excitement comes over him.]

Gaines: AH! I remember this Stryker fellow. He's the guy that Dark Tiger wouldn't shut up about. Babbling on and on about how he beat him. So I guess that means there really is a Julius Stryker. Must not be much if I've never heard of him until just recently, eh?

[Marcus glances down at Barret as he struggles to get a grip on Marcus, however with the casts and such, movement is pretty prohibited in Barret's case.]

Gaines: Jeez, don't be so touchy, Barret. I'm done with you. You don't have to worry about anything but mental scarring. I'll even let you look at Debra on occasion once I steal her for good. Wouldn't that be nice?

[Barret struggles more and more, as the anger can be clearly visible in the man's eyes. Marcus shoves body back hard knocking Barret against a guardrail along the side of the bed causing him to wince.]

Gaines: Hey, dumbass, I'm busy talking here, stop struggling. I'm thinking, that even in your useless state there, you could beat this Stryker d*cksmack. Get this, apparently the guy's dad is Rick Flair, and his uncle is Bill Clinton.

[Marcus throws his head back in a howl of laughter.]

Gaines: This guy has to be nuts if he would WANT those two wack-jobs for family members. I can only imagine what those Stryker family reunions must be like. All hooting and hollaring, then the cousins break off into pairs to do a little rebel rousing in their rooms. Oy, Stryker is the product of his brother getting it on with his mother... I don't want to imagine anymore.

[The sound of footsteps coming down the hospital corrider resounds throughout the room, Marcus turns around to look at the door to the room, he stands up and walks towards it. As he makes it there, he peers out through a crack. Hurredly, he rushes away from the door and towards Barret.]

Gaines: Sorry, pal. Looks like you're going to have some company. As much as I'd like to stick around and hear the diagnosis, I've gotta skedaddle. Remember Barret, no hard feelings.

[He shuts the camera off, and lunges for the window. And as the door opens, Marucs disappears leaving Barret alone with whoever should come to visit. The door opens and in walks Debra Coleman, dressed as sultry as ever, at her first glance of Barret she feels comforted. But then after the double-take, she rushes forward to remove the tape from his mouth. Barret struggles underneath his confining casts courtesy of Marcus Gaines. As she pulls the tape off of his face, Barret sighs heavily, his inability to muster the strength to talk is evident, and he slumps into a deep sleep. ]

[As soon as Debra saw Barret's mouth gagged like it was, she immediately realized what had most likely happened in this room just moments earlier. It was unknown to her exactly how someone like Marcus Gaines could in actuality get out of jail legally. She looked angrily from her most beloved to the flapping curtains of the open window Marcus had used as a means of escape.]

Debra: [Shouting at the top of her lungs, projected towards the open window.] You bastard! [Leaning nearer to Barret.] Don't worry, baby. I'll get him back for this.

[A tear dropped from the corner of her eye, and it seemed as if the wind itself was laughing at her. She snuggled her body closer to Barret as if to protect him from any further harm he could possibly come to. She had been forced to sit and watch Wednesday Insurrection from her home, the sight of Marcus laying a heavy beating on Barret caused her to weep bitterly at anyone who would release him, leaving her with only a hand full of questions to ask; Why let him out? And how soon does she get her chance to get revenge on Marcus for all that he had done to her, and all that he had left to do to her.]