***Watts makes his way to the ring being showered in jeers, beers, and garbage. Little children have tears in their eyes as their chin is barely above the guard rail, “Why Spencer!?”. As Watts makes his way through the ropes and takes a mic the crowd erupts into a chant. “Why Spencer why! Why Spencer Why!”***

Watts: “I’m not proud of what I did… If I had the chance to do it again, I’m not even sure I could…. I stabbed a legend, a mentor, and most importantly a friend in the back…”

***The crowd erupts in boos again.***

Watts: “You folks have every right to feel like that. In the eyes of all of you I’ve done wrong. I’ve done an unforgivable thing…. But in the moment it was what felt right. I respect the hell out of Pantaro and I want to see him back on top of that mountain, but damnit to hell! That’s my Light heavyweight championship and if he’s gonna hold it again, he’s gonna take it off of me!”

***The boos get even louder.***

Watts: “Beckett is a corporate champion! He has that belt for the same reason all of Black’s boys will always have championships! They kiss the boss’ ass!”

***Some of the boos die off but hardly enough to make a difference.***

Watts: “Look! I’m sorry Pantaro is caught up in all this, I really am! But I’ve got a claim to that championship and not a damn thing or a damn one is gonna be in my way!”

***Beckett steps out to the top of the ramp, and somehow the boos get louder. The Brawler sneers smugly as the sound of Clutch fills the arena:

“I’ve got your number.
I steal your thunder.
I’ve got your mother’s maiden name tattooed on my arm.
I’ve got your number.
I steal your thunder.
I’ve got your mother’s maiden name tattooed on my arm.”***

BECKETT: “I knew … I knew I could rely on you, mate. I knew your ambition wouldn’t let me down. See, I know ambition. I know desire when I see it. I know what ‘I’ll do anything’ looks like, and …”

***Beckett points straight at Watts.***

“You want this belt of mine, don’t you, Spence? Yes, of course you do. Someone once said that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but how different it is to lose what you love … and to have it taken from you, because you were too … weak … to keep it. To put it bluntly, mush …
“… you … failed.
“And worse, you not only failed to keep what you treasure here, but then … you failed all of these miserable peons! Doubt me? Folks! Tell him just what you think of what Spencer Watts did last week!”

***A chorus of boos swells like a title wave and Beckett’s smug grin grows larger, until a chant begins over the booing: “Screw you, Beckett! Screw you, Beckett!”***

BECKETT: “See? The ONLY person they hate more than you … is me. That’s just how reviled you are, luv, and you deserve it.
“Oh, don’t think this is a beratement. I have to say, I am impressed! You relinquish your morals, turn your back on your fans, betray your own friends, all to get what you want. I understand that. I respect it. That’s not to say I’m going to go easy on you, and I’m damned sure not going to underestimate you. If anything, I will do everything in my power to defeat you and keep what is rightfully mine. And once you’ve lost your fans, your friends, your soul … and my title … you’ve got to wonder … what will you have left?

**Beckett turns his back as the boos continue. Just before he disappears behind the curtain, he stops and turns, one hand cupped to his ear.**

“Funny … I can’t tell who they are addressing: me … or you.”

***Beckett turns to duck under the curtain when he bumps into something. The camera catches Beckett’s expression as it turns from confusion to surprise. Beckett backpedals from the camera, one hand out in front of him, the other still clutching a mic. Pantaro stalks onto the stage, eyes squarely aimed at Beckett.***

BECKETT: “Nownownownownownownownownownownownow … y-y-y-you-you-you had your shot! You had your shot! You did, and-and-and you lost, fair and square! Just ask him!”

***Points to Watts in the ring***

PANTARO: “I still want your hide, Beckett! Watts can have your belt! I don’t care! I want you in the ring again!”

BECKETT: “Well … you CAN’T! You can’t, and-and-and I’ll tell you why … um … because … um … IhaveamatchwithWatts!”

***Audience roars***

***Watts put his foot on the middle rope leaning over the top turning red in the face with rage but still a big smile.***

WATTS: “Beckett! You just signed your death warrant, Momma’s boy! After everything you’ve done and for everything you represent, I’m gonna take my title back! You no good boot lickin’ coward! I’m gonna put you down!”

BECKETT: “Yes, a match with Watts, and … I am forbidden to any other matches foreseeably … until our match at KING OF DEATH MATCH!”

***Pantaro seethes on the stage, then raises the mic to his mouth.***

PANTARO: “Take my mask! Put me in the match! If I lose, you can take my mask!”

***A wicked smile slowly spreads across Beckett’s face as the fans go strangely silent and the full weight of Pantaro’s challenge settles in. Beckett raises his mic.***

BECKETT: “Accepted, luv.”

***The crowd erupts in a rafter shaking cacophony.***

PANTARO: “Good! Plan your retirement, Beckett, because I am putting you out of wrestling for good!”

***Pantaro drops his mic and stalks off to the back.***