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*** A house show in Las Vegas, Navada. BARTHOLOMEW BECKETT has just mopped the floor with Wyatt Sharpe. Although nothing in the match was illegal, it was obviously vindictive in nature and ended with Beckett forcing his opponent to tap out from an ankle lock.

RONNIE STOCKHOLM: "Wyatt Sharpe has tapped out! The bell is ringing, and finally the referee has forced Brawler Beckett to release that ankle lock! Beckett clearly did not want to turn Sharpe loose from that hold! Thank goodness the referee got Sharpe loose, hopefully there is no permanent injury! Oh boy, Beckett has a microphone..."

BECKETT: "I have a message for the lot of you colonial sad sacks." ***"Boo's and rubbish are flung into the ring.*** "You will shush and listen, or I will hold up the next match." ***The beligrants gradually calm down … somewhat.***

"There seems to be some misconception about my most recent run in with one Mr. Derrick Arse-Wand." ***Cheers suddenly go up.***

"I … CAN … WAIT!"

***Gradual die down.***

"You … you people. You cheer this lack-beard on, and why? It is a clear prejudice! I wrestle skillfully and tactically, with intestinal fortitude, with dignity despite the prejudice against me, and am shouted down for it? Do not misunderstand me. The last thing I need are a bunch of armchair athletes, their t-shirts drenched in sweat and fried food grease, lauding me, but your popular vote is, once more, stalling my career, as, instead, you choose to cheer on a fanboy who has wasted his talent and promise for your adulation. And, yes, cheated to-" **(The booing begins again, but this time, Beckett's hours into the mic.) "... yes, CHEATED in his match against me last week! What I addressed as a Gentleman's Challenge, even allowing him, in my magnanimity, the advantage in that he would not have to truly wrestle me. And YET … and YET, he still felt he needed to cheat to attain victory!

"And you lot … cheer him more." ***Beckett looks down for a ment, chuckling, and shakes his head.*** "Well, I have bloody well had enough. I want you all to know that I am fed to the gills with you, your red-necked colonial pretentiousness, and certainly with your favorite Arse-Wand."

***(from the audience) "This is Vegas! We're not rednecks!"

BECKETT: "All you yanks look alike to me." ***A rain of Boo's and trash, and a serpentine smile from Beckett.***

STOCKHOLM: "This Las Vegas crowd is really letting Beckett have it!"

BECKETT: "See? That was easy. Not a poker face in the whole crowd, in the middle of a place that proudly calls itself the City of Sin! Well, let me be merciful and let you all in on a sure thing. I have issued a new and FINAL challenge to your boy, Derrick. I tried to be merciful to him last time, and he took advantage of me, so this time … this time he will actually have to wrestle.

"I have issued him a challenge to an old-fashioned submission match! No shortcuts, no chance to cheat, skill and guts against skill and guts alone! And perhaps then, when you have all seen me force your paper hero to surrender to my superiority … just like I did against Snowflake, the FIRST match of this company's history … perhaps then you will see the error of your ways.

"But I don't see much chance of it happening. You see … I have yet to hear back from Mr. Arse-Wand. So you see … he is a coward, and so you will not-"

*** Furious cries for blood and trash inundate the ring. Beckett's face takes on a sly grin that melts into a smug look of accomplishment as he drops the mic, hops out of the ring, and makes his way up the aisle.***

STOCKHOLM: "Beckett has laid out the challenge, we'll have to wait and see if Derrik Arzon responds. Folks, if I know Derrik Arzon, we will not have to wait long!"

*At the same Las Vegas house show, Terry Schneider is backstage with a sweaty Derrik Arzon.*

SCHNEIDER: "Derrik Arzon, congratulations on a hard-fought win tonight. Earlier, we heard Brawler Beckett issue a challenge to you for a submission match at PWA Vendetta. Do you have any comment?"

ARZON: "Terry, I have plenty to say about Beckett and his challenge. Brawler Beckett, I proved to you and the whole world that I am the better man on Assault when I sent you on a one-way flight over the top rope! You just can't let it be, though, can you? No, instead you come out and run your imperial mouth, trying to run me down as a cheater! You can't stand it, can you? You can't stand that I played by the rules you made and I beat you, fair and square! So, you come out here and you call me a fanboy. Yeah, I admit I used to be a fanboy. You know what I learned as a fanboy! I learned the value of watching film. Including YOUR film! I know your style! I know your mistakes before you make them! As for this submission match-"

*Beckett's voice is heard from off camera * "You, boy! I've been looking for you! Stay right there, mush! I want an answer!" * The camera zooms out to include Beckett striding in, opposite of Schneider from Arzon. *

ARZON: "Hey, don't come out here and question my courage! You want an answer! You're on... on one condition-"

BECKETT: "Oh, here we go! Another attempt to blindside me!" **Jabs finger at Arzon, right in front of Schneider's face.** "Go ahead, love! You can't get out of it! NO-DQ submission match! What could you possibly add to that?"

ARZON: "No weapons! No outside interference! I want to face you in a cage!"

*Beckett’s mouth opens and closes several times.***

BECKETT: "Now, you look here, mate! I-I-I-I-I will not, will NOT, have my reputation be-besmirched by the likes of-"

ARZON: "Oh, don't back down now, Beckett! You've been calling all the stipulations for our matches and I faced all of them, win or lose! You want the WHOLE WORLD to know you're a coward?"

BECKETT: "Fine. FINE! And ... fine, I will see you there, and you won't be able to escape me this time!"

ARZON: "I'll see you at Vendetta, and you better bring your dancing shoes 'cause I'm gonna make you tap!"

*The two men back away from each other, neither willing to turn their backs as the camera cuts to commercial.*