*** “Charisma” by W.A.S.P. blares through the arena speakers. The crowd boos with enthusiastic vitriol as Damion Black and NWC World Champion Bartholomew, Lord Beckett, himself followed by Arthur Solomon, step out onto the ramp. All three men are dressed to the nines; Damion in a tailor-made black Armani and Lord Beckett in his black Highland formal wear, wrapped about with a mostly purple-tartaned great kilt. Solomon is wearing a dark brown three-piece suit and topper, chewing on a cigar, and carrying a brass-headed cane. They make their way to the ring, soaking in the crowd’s derision at their presence. Damion calls for a microphone. ***

BLACK: “Under most circumstances, I do everything in my power to stay away from you drooling peons. I can’t help it. Not many people know this about me, but I have kind of a weak stomach, and I just cannot stand the stench of the unwashed masses. And it doesn’t wash out! It doesn’t! I’ve tried everything to wash the smell out- oh, you probably don’t understand the concept of ‘washing’. As I said, I normally avoid coming out here amongst you, but there is business that must be managed. First, the NWC World Champion has a statement… and challenge. Mr. Beckett?”

BECKETT: “Thank you, Mr. Black. This is a most unusual circumstance, is it not? For a champion to do the challenging? Admittedly, part of that is due to the fact that, despite my proven record as a fighting champion-”

***The crowd erupts into booing.***

BECKETT: “I can wait, my lovelies.”

*** Gradually, the derision dies down enough for Lord Beckett to talk.***

BECKETT: “As a fighting champion, I have as yet find anyone who can give me a run for my money. The few challengers have been dismissed or otherwise handled. In fact …”

***A chant of “Cory! Cory! Cory!” begins***

BECKETT: “SHUT UP! You ignorant specimens! ***Takes a deep breath*** “As I was saying, it has fallen to me to select my own opponent for Undaunted, and I have chosen … the Masked Shooter.”

***A roar goes up from the crowd. Solomon looks about as if in challenge, but Lord Beckett taps his arm and smiles, shaking his head “No.”***

BECKETT: “He is, no doubt, honored to accept this challenge, and to be quite frank … so am I. Have any of you fair-weather fans bothered to look up footage of his career? Have any of you instant-gratificionites looked at his record? His long, long and storied career? He is the longest running currently active professional wrestler in the world today! He is the lightest fighter to have defeated Gojira, the Kaiju of the ring! He has held more titles in his career than your mother has held cocks in her career- and that is saying something!”

***More boo’s, and a sneer from Lord Beckett as Solomon laughs.***

BECKETT: “In truth, it will be my honor to, in token, put my NWC title on the line, just as his career is, finally, closing. I see no reason not to let his last match be against the world champion, for he deserves to be defeated by no less. I am more than honored to end your career, Shooter, to be the highpoint of your illustrious history. I truly am. And trust me, you will get both my best … and my worst. My respect for you, as a fellow history maker, as a fellow light-heavyweight wrestler, is such that you will get everything that I have, unbridled, unleashed. There will be no simpering moments of tears, for that is how much I respect you. I will make sure that you … are ended … by the best.”

***Hands the mic to Solomon, who hands it back to Black.***

BLACK: “Now… Akira Wyld…” *Black takes off his shades and directly addresses the camera with a look of utter contempt.* “You have been a blight on my company for far too long. I did everything I could to be fair to you, and when that didn’t work, I did everything I could to make you leave. I don’t know if it’s your galactic ego keeping you here or the complete absence of common sense, but you just don’t… get it. You are not wanted here, Akira. You have stabbed everyone on the roster in the back countless times, including the most celebrated Light Heavyweight Champion in PWA history, and for no reason! You gained nothing! Oh, you talk about honor and pride, but none of that stopped you from taking advantage of a situation to FINALLY get a win over your own brother, did it? You know, I am a tolerant man. I am. I have the patience of Job! But you… laid hands on me…. AGAIN. My patience has run its course.

“It is clear to me that I will never be rid of you unless extreme measures are taken. Well, Akira, I am prepared to do whatever it takes to finally put an end to you. I have given this a great deal of thought, and I have a challenge. At PWA Undaunted, you and I will face each other. No rules, no holds barred, no submissions. We fight until there is a pinfall. At that point, the pinned man must answer a 10-count. If he can, the match will continue. If he fails, then the match is over. This match is designed to bring us both up to and beyond our physical limitations. It will test our wills, our spirits to their breaking points! We must battle each other to the point of exhaustion, to the point of collapse! Akira! I challenge you to the first match of its kind, a Blackout Match! And I swear, I will beat the will to fight from every bone in your body as I break them! One. By. One.

“This is it, Akira. One more match. One more time. I will prove once for all, to the entire world, that I AM your superior! I will show everyone that pure dominance… is a Black thing.”