|6:59|

[Yet again, he awoke to find himself, this time not inside a casket steadily plummeting into the Earth for it's final descent, but alone in his room, in his bed, with nothing to occupy his vision but the objects decorating his room. A wave of relief swept over him as he thought about all that had happened to him this past evening. If it was true that the things he had been shown by the Eye were the things that were changeable, the things that he could reverse and manipulate to make how he wanted, he realized it was time to start changing.] 

[Getting dressed, he finally realized he had something he could fight for, and maybe have a damn good chance of winning. The only thing he needed to do now, was to offer the other competitors a few choice words.]

[Booking the necessary arrangements, Marcus found himself in front of a camera, for the first time in a long while when not wrestling. Finally set, the light turned to red.] 

|Saturday September 1st, 2001|

[The camer's fade into Marcus Gaines peering into the screen over the tops of his black sunglasses. Slowly fading out to a full body shot, Marcus snaps the glasses from his face, and places them in his pocket.]

Gaines: It's been so long since I've actually made comments to the GWA public as well as it's wrestlers. And I should say it feels all right. I don't need any flashy interviewers to make me look good. I don't need anymore gimmicks than the one's I've got working for me. The only thing I need is for a few certain ears to perk up and hear me. 

First off. Bedlam... My attack, though misplaced... had a meaning. I don't like seeing someone like you being wasted... or taken away from your true calling in life. You're the guy that is the stepping stone for everyone. It'd be a huge loss to the company if you were to actually start MAKING something of yourself now wouldn't it? So me being the competent individual I am, I decided to let you know where you stand. And as of now... you're standing in a big pile of shit, the likes of which you would even have to look up to. Don't make anymore attempts at furthering your career, bud. Got it? I'll be watching. 

[Gaines smiles, and casually falls into a chair set conveniently behind him.]

Gaines: Onto this Gladiator title match. I see Dark Tiger, that you've crawled out from under your rock and decided to grace us with your presence on Sunday night. Listen up, Tiger. 

[The camera zooms in to his face so as nothing can be seen before or after Gaines on the screen.]

Gaines: Remember, we've fought before. And I know you remember how that turned out. You seem like a wise and mature individual who knows when his own personal safety is at risk inside of a wrestling ring, street yard brawl or what have you; So I'm going to tell you this only once. Go on vacation for a few days. Let the match just blow over. You know you just can't stand eye to eye with me. You know that in any match where I factor in, you're just not going to end up on top, I'm sorry, but this is the way it's got to be. So just step the f*ck off before you get hurt, dig? 

[Gaines swivels the chair in one way, then the other as he looks thoughtful for a second.] 

Gaines: Chris Carpenter. The only one of these names I have to face that doesn't make me laugh hysterically. You honestly think any number of compliments you'd hand to me could possibly make things seem any better? YOU, not I rode the coattails all those months ago, and you know it. But I know by now I'm beginning to sound like a broken record, aren't I? Carpenter, as much as you'd like to think it's only between you and Storm on Sunday, you know very well it isn't. On the outside, you have to keep up the ol' persona, tell the fans what they know you're going to say; You need to reassure yourself daily that I'm just not going to show up, or I'm not going to give one hundred percent. Wrong-o. No matter how many times you convince yourself that I'm not a threat on the outside, on the inside you're praying I don't hurt you too bad. You're praying that I don't rip your ego right out from under you. 

In a match like this Carpenter, there's no room for someone who won't admit the fact that he's not only outmatched, but outclassed. You're steadily losing that chance to just back out of this match before any sweat breaks out, or any blood hits the floor. Don't make a mistake here, Chris. As a former tag partner, you know what I'm capable of. And I know what you're capable of, which sadly isn't going to be enough to keep me from going home one title heavier. Sorry, Carp... this is the way it has to be. 

[He stands up, sighing heavily as he walks over to a podium, centered on the set, leaning his weight on it, he stares into the camera.]

Gaines: Lastly, Johnny Storm. The one talking head that just hasn't been talking. You should be looking at this time before our meeting as a chance to be teaching us all exactly how a Gladiator Champion SHOULD be handling this situation. However, if you're not teaching... you're getting taught. So I guess someone has to step in and fill those shoes that have been left sitting for so long since you became the champ, Storm. 

Quite frankly John-boy, I'm worried that you might not be in peak form for this Sunday. Beaten senselessly over and over again, branded, beaten some more... are you sure you're holding up both mentally and physically? I'm concerned for your welfare is all Storm. If you can't handle all of this, well then I can make it easy on you and let you just concede the match now.. From what I hear it's what Carpenter AND Dark Tiger are going to be doing.  Save me the trouble of proving to you YET again just who stands on top, and who stands on bottom. Because last time I checked, Storm... now correct me if I'm wrong here... but when we last fought I was DEFINITELY not laying Face down, and I was most definitely not Ass up in a pool of my own blood. Just a life lesson for you, Storm. Don't count your chickens before they hatch... 'Cause you never... after I'm through beating your ass on Sunday... I just may make you eat those same chickens. 

[Marcus grins widely as the podium drops out from under him, and he walks off-camera.] 

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