<img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris12.jpg" height=512 width=386>It was a rare thing for the reigning World Heavyweight Champion Fenris to not be at the training facility of Gabriel and Odette Stevens, working out and honing his craft. Did he have a life, outside of the sport of professional wrestling? Not to hear his brother, Aron, speak of it. If he wasn't competing inside of the ring, or on the road for the tours and promotional appearances that Sin City Wrestling scheduled for its stars, he was working out. And if he was not working out, then you would find him at his and Aron's home in Las Vegas, the two bedroom luxury condo that for the time being, they were sharing with their guest; the World Bombshell Champion Danielle Weston. Kristjan aka Fenris was, by his own admission, not the most sociable of sorts. When at home, he spent the majority of his time doing one of two things; doting on his beloved canine Kyssa, or sitting in front of the television, where he would waste away countless hours watching, of all things, Japanese anime which he had taken a liking to when introduced to the phenom thanks in part to Despayre.
He would also watch movies suggested to him by Gabriel and a handful of others, but it was sports that he spent the most time glued to when in front of the TV. It was only natural that he greatly favored watching full contact sports such as boxing or MMA, but he also had taken a liking to football (not the Americanized version that the Philistines called 'soccer'). Ben Jordan and he had a very friendly rivalry between them when they watched football, winning and losing bets made at each others expense on a regular basis.
While Kyssa was happy, so long as her master was at home and she could curl up on the sofa with him as he watched -- whatever, and he stroked his fingers through her snow-white fur. Not so much the same could be said for Aron, who groused regularly at his brother's slovenly habits. No, not just because of the fact that he himself had to pick up after Fenris, who left beer bottles and snack papers everywhere. But because he showed genuine brotherly concern for Kristjan who seemed to go out of his way to avoid any sociable contact with, well, anyone. With Kris Ryans and Courtney Pierce now officially 'missing in action,' the only ones Fenris associated with were the ones that were involved not only in the Stevens gym, but who were behind his training and foray into this world of competition inside of the six-sided ring.
Competition that he took to and excelled at, we might stress for those watching. And it was thank in part to his obsessive habits where his training was concerned. Say what you might about his social life (or lack there of) or his anger issues that he had become famous for to some degree. But when all was said and done, Fenris was a beast when it came to his training. He had his routine, day in and day out, that he never strayed from. He could be hung over from a nightly binge. He could have gotten very little sleep due to staying up late, drinking or watching a movie. But he would always be up at the crack of dawn, and take Kyssa out while he ran to the nearest park. It was one habit that Aron always joined him in, as both brothers remained physically fit, just Aron had a more classic dancer/swimmer build while his brother was built to fight. Kristjan always ran between four to six miles each morning, and at night, he would simply return to the park but this time walk Kyssa for relaxation. The running in the morning was just to wake himself up, and prepare his heart for the workout that would come. Plus it helped with his endurance inside of the ring. Whether it be wrestling or MMA, all the training in the world could not save you if you could not go the full distance. And Kristjan? He worked out every day.
Every. Day.
Aron could count on one hand, the number of times his brother had missed a workout. Even if he couldn't get to a gym on the road, which was a rarity, he would make damn sure he got in a run, a workout in the hotel room -- something.
Charlie Frias Park - Las Vegas
6:47 am
This was the personal preference location for Kristjan's early morning runs and late evening walks with his girl. It was wide open space, thirty two acres to be exact, and was fairly private in these early hours. Few people were about, and even fewer who recognized him from his professions would bother him. At night, when there were more about? Not so much. Some fans who had snooped and figured out his routine would regularly top him to attempt to chat or ask for photo ops, but it was admittedly Kyssa who attracted the most attention. From both female as well as male fans. Somehow seeing anyone fawn over his girl kept Fenris from getting (too) irritated at his routine being interrupted.
"Does she do any tricks?" That was the usual question that was asked, and one that had worked Kristjan's nerves raw.
"No, of course she doesn't." He would usually answer.
"How come?"
"Because she's a dog!" He would often bark, pun not intended. "Not some fucking trained monkey at a god damn circus!" That was generally enough to end any questions, not to mention the air of civility.
The attention Kristjan got? That's another story. The two brothers would kick their mornings off in regular clothes for a run; t shirt and shorts, but once they started working up a sweat and the sun rose, the shirts would usually be shed off and their glistening bodies naturally drew the stares from anyone there. There were attempted flirtations, and a few even dared to approach them and try to get a little too close, but Fenris shut those attempts down both hard and fast (no puns, please!). It was not what he was there for.
Much to Aron's chagrin. His brother needed to relax more. His tension seemed to deflate after what happened with Kris Ryans, happened -- but then the god damned threat of a sex tape had ignited and his personal life exposed for the world to know and exploit. Now with so many trolls trying to invade his life, it was a wonder Kristjan had resumed his routines after that brief mental and health break down he had suffered several weeks ago. They still attracted attention from the wrong sorts, some fuckers even making assumptions about Aron (and his relationship with his brother) by proxy, but few, if any, dared to address this directly else they run the risk of Fenris's wrath.
For now, it was peaceful, and the sun was just beginning to crest the horizon. The park opened to the public at six sharp, and it was the how and why Kristjan had worked out the timing of his daily morning regime. This was the favored time of the year here in the states for both brothers, as it remained dark still, but much more pleasantly cool and not so warm. It was in the upper fifties, what many would think too cold for a run but for two men who called Iceland home? It was nothing. This was just a time for Kristjan to get his life back in order, and for Aron to help him. The two brothers ran around the dog park, keeping to the trails and taking caution to avoid any early morning walkers who were out and about. Both wore buds in their ears, their preferred music pumping from their Blue-Tooths, while their eyes remained straight ahead, with Kyssa running at their sides, her tail continuously wagging and tongue hanging out in a lop-sided doggy grin. She loved every moment of their mornings together as well.
One of these days, Fenris would manage to drag Dani out of her bed at this ungodly hour to take part as well.
It was as Kristjan had told reporters in the past; one has to go "full alpha" to go through the workout regime that he goes through every day. Perhaps that was why he did not take the time to have much more of a social life. He simply did not have the time, nor did he have the desire to risk anything coming between him and the ultimate success that he craved.
Las Vegas - current
It was why he was back at the grass roots of his wrestling career, where it all started. But this time things were slightly different as it was neither the Stevens, nor any of the others that had a hand in his wrestling training. Synn was not present, nor was his son Despayre who had been a regular thorn in Kristjan's side during his work outs. Gabriel was present however. He always insisted he be whenever someone was here at his and Odette's pride and joy so he could over look things should anything go awry. Not that anything ever did. He simply ran a tight ship and would not allow anyone, or anything, to cause a mischief.
There were rare exceptions to the rule, where perhaps Gabriel would not be there and someone else, like Synn who was a minority shareholder, would be the only one present, but for this? Gabriel simply had to be here. The two that were here were so combustible that there was simply no telling what would happen. Catalysts that could explode at any moment. Referring to, of course, Fenris who was currently being put through the proverbial ringer at the hands of a man he had a checkered past with, his former MMA coach, a legend in the world of Mixed Martial Arts, Maksym Petrov.
Gabriel had privately urged Kristjan to mend the bridges burned between the two men, although he had no idea what had caused the rift, and to date, Kristjan wasn't sharing. But Gabriel was smart man, and he cared deeply for anyone who came through his and his wife's facility, effectively putting their livelihoods in the Stevens' hands. Gabriel had spent countless hours over the past few years inside of this facility, lending what knowledge and expertise he had learned through the near ten year career he had spent inside of the ring in both SCW, and its predecessor, the AWA. During that time, he had learned much and felt a private thrill when he was able to pass what he learned to new students out to learn and realize the same dreams that he himself had experienced. But there was also another plus side to this arrangement. Gabriel had seen Maksym when he was a fighter inside of the caged octagon, and knew the man had earned his Hall of Fame status tenfold during his MMA career. The term "legend" did not do this man justice, and when he became a coach and trainer, he did for a new generation of men and women in MMA what the Stevens did in professional wrestling.
And Gabriel was getting a first-hand look at a typical Maksym Petrov training session, and all he could do was feel sorry for the poor sod being put through it.
We're, of course, referring to Kristjan who was currently being put through a literal hell, in preparation for a first in SCW history. Kristjan -- Fenris, would be defending the World Heavyweight Championship, in of all things, a Lion's Den match under MMA rules. Gabriel privately contemplated what that might mean; if it would be fought in rounds and one had to win by knock out or submission? As a trainer, he would take no risks in his protege's championship and professional record, both of which were spotless.
As Gabriel had always had his students begin their daily training with a warm up to prepare their muscles for what was to come, he saw that Maksym was no different. Perhaps he demanded a little more, but the man was set in his ways and Gabriel shook his head as he kept a close eye on the proceedings, wondering if he would have to step in. Maksym had made Kristjan do five sets of push ups, with fifteen reps per set. Then he followed up with the same number of bench dips before the real work out would begin.
At present, Fenris was straddled across two chairs, his legs in a perfect split. Each leg was stretched out over the seat of one of the chairs, while his body hung over the floor of the gym. Fenris reached down in this prone position and wrapped his fingers around the handles of the fifty pound hand weights and lifted them up to chest-level before lowering them once again. To some, fifty pounds might not seem like much, even if there were two of the weights, but when you are neither standing or reclining, but instead balancing, such as Fenris was, it was a great deal more difficult than would be expected!
"Again!" Maksym barked in a hard command, and as he was taught from his younger days, Fenris did as he was told and continued this hard effort in repetitive sets until his MMA coach, or former (that is for Kristjan too decide and a different tale to be told).
***
Gabriel watched with a smile, taking a drink of water as Fenris was stationed in front of a hanging punching bag that was descended from the gym's ceiling. How many times over the past near-year had he watched Fenris assault this bag with some of the hardest punches and kicks he had ever witnessed? It was a damn wonder the lad had yet to break the damn thing, or cause it to rupture at the seams and spill the sand everywhere.
Then, as Maksym stood behind the bag and steadied it in his own two hands, Fenris lowered himself into a squat position, feet together as were his palms. Maksym then loudly shouted, "Now!" and immediately Fenris leapt up into the air, leaving his feet, and in a rapid flurry of movement, assaulted the bag with as many strikes as he could land with his fists before he fell to the floor and resumed the squatting position. Then, when Maksym commanded it next, Fenris jumped again, only this time to assault the bag with the kicks that had become his trademark and knocked out too many opponents inside of the ring! The third routine, saw Fenris leap and hit a combination of fists and kicks.
"When was the last time you had a proper MMA work out?" Maksym snarled from his position.
Fenris knew that tone and the taunting nature behind it. Deep down, he realized it was simply a tool of motivation for Maksym, but it always grated his nerves when he was spoken to like that, as if he were not trying hard enough in the eyes of this man.
"You have forgotten everything I had taught you, cocky boy!" Maksym shook his head. "You have gotten sloppy. Lazy!"
Fenris paused in his spot and his eyes practically rained fire in Maksym's direction, and all Gabriel could think was "If looks could kill...!" Gabriel remained where he was, waiting for the inevitable melt-down from Kristjan, but shockingly, it never came.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
***
Fenris then was led over to the pull up bar, but curiously, Maksym had pressed a tennis ball into each of his palms before he was ordered to begin. Kristjan then carefully reached up with both hands, and he carefully pressed the tennis balls between the pull up bar and his hands, before wrapping his fingers around in a tight grip to begin the pull ups. Maksym, noticing Gabriel's frown, walked over to the ring where the facility's proprietor sat and he rested back against the ring post, his eyes never leaving his MMA protege, while he answered the unasked question.
"The tennis balls force him to tighten his grip." Maksym explained. "And builds the muscles in his hands."
Gabriel nodded in understanding, and he said, "Which helps in his strikes and his grips when he wrestles some poor sod down into a submission hold."
Maksym nodded, not at all surprised that Gabriel was able to understand the process and reasoning behind it. For his younger years, Gabriel was incredibly adept at the human body, and what it took to both strengthen it as well as break it down. It's just a piece of the puzzle that made him such a successful trainer in his own chosen sport.
"And you would put him through this regularly?" Gabriel asked, finding this legend easy enough to talk to.
"Every day." Came the answer. "I thought for certain with his anger issues, it would push him away but I refused to hold back or change my regime for his sake alone. To my surprise..." He shrugged with a subdued smile. "... he focused and excelled."
Gabriel nodded, satisfied, before he found himself asking, "Did that end, though? Is this what caused you two to separate?"
Maksym didn't answer. Not at first and not for a few uncomfortable moments of tense silence. For a brief moment, Gabriel believed he had over stepped himself as far as his curiosity went. He had high hopes for Kristjan and felt more than a little protective of him, as he felt towards anyone who came through these doors. If he were to assist, he felt he needed facts.
Finally, with a soft sigh, Maksym simply answered, "That you would have to ask him."
The day had been long and grueling, satisfyingly so, because Fenris was not given any reprieve. Not from Maksym, and certainly not from Gabriel himself. Because once Maksym had called it a day in the rigorous MMA styled workout session with Kristjan, Gabriel immediately ordered a worn and sore Kristjan into the ring for his own training session. Kristjan shot him look of utter disbelief and it was the closest he could recall to Kristjan groaning in dismay at anything, but it was the student's own ego and desire to succeed at any cost, that forced him through the ropes.
Plus, Kristjan suspected that as Maksym shared some of his training knowledge with Gabriel, that the former two-time World Champion wanted to return the favor and show he too was no slouch when it came to what he could put a student through. Once Aron had come to pick his brother up after the all-day sessions, Fenris had confided in him that he thought both men took some sort of sadistic pleasure at attempting to one up the other at his own expense.
Now the brothers had returned to their domicile at the Three Turnberry Place condos near the Vegas Strip= where they, and their houseguest Danielle Weston, were seated in the living room with a variety of Chinese takeout in the colorful cardboard boxes on every nearby nook and cranny, each within arms reach. Fenris was seated in his favorite chair, where none else dared to sit. (Just ask Dani!) Aron was seated on his bed aka the sofa that he had been sleeping on ever since he gave Dani the use of his bedroom for the duration of her stay. Dani herself sat with her legs curled up under her body on the other end of the sofa, while Kyssa was curled up on the cushions between the pair. The canine's blue eyes remained open as she patiently waited for the treats the three would inevitably share with her.
And plenty were coming from each as Dani and Aron ate heartily from a little bit of everything they had wanted; from orange chicken to Kobari beef and a number of tasty morsels in between. While Fenris had a time finding a Chinese place that catered to his vegetarian tastes, but this place outdid itself with scrumptious samplings of fried rice, Chow Mein and dishes with faux "meats," including spicy vegetarian "beef" and Luojiang fried bean duck.
"Hey!" Fenris called out in his native Icelandic, his brow deepened as Aron picked up a box Kristjan had ordered for himself, filled with fried pickled cabbage and bean sprouts. He watched as Aron used his chop sticks to serve himself then offered some over to Dani who smiled and gladly accepted this new taste treat. "Seriously!?"
"What's your problem now?" Aron asked, but this time in English for Dani's benefit. He set the box back down in front of his brother, to which Kristjan answered, "You have all those boxes filled with all the disgusting meat you can eat, and yet you still feel the need to take mine!?"
"I'm sorry." Aron quipped as he used the chopsticks to shovel a heaping mouthful between his lips. He smirked, "Want it back?"
Fenris sneered in disgust, turning his head away when there was the tell-tale sound of their doorbell being rung.
"You get it." Kristjan ordered his younger brother, to which Aron frowned and countered, "You get it!" And after a brief pause and stand off, their heads turned in unison and they said "You get it." to Dani.
The young woman rolled her eyes in good humor and set her filled plate down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She stood up and made her way toward the door, while behind her, Aron muttered in Icelandic for his brother's private benefit, "You'd feel better if you just talked to him."
Fenris paused, his mouth open and ready to receive another helping when he slowly lowered his fork and stared hard at his brother. "Excuse me?"
"Don't pull that coy bullshit with me, big brother." Aron smiled, rather coyly himself. "I'm not blind. I was right there when you were checking him out."
And it took about two point five seconds for Kristjan's ears and neck to turn a charming shade of pink, but whether it was from embarrassment or anger, it was left unspoken as their exchange was interrupted by the timely arrival of Daniel Morgan and his ever-present bodyguard, Osbourne.
"Daniel!" Kristjan uttered in surprise, as this was the first time the former member of the Stevens Facility had ever set foot inside of his home in Las Vegas. Shit! He hadn't been entirely certain that Daniel even knew where he loved, although when he gave it some thought, he shouldn't have been entirely surprised.
"What brings you here?" Aron asked as Dani resumed her seat and picked up her plate before a sniffing Kyssa could have made off with any of its contents. "You hungry? K ordered plenty!" He offered, Kristjan noticing that Aron motioned more towards his own vegetarian dishes than anything else.
"No, thank you." Daniel held up a hand, politely declining. "Os and I can't stay, and we don't want to interrupt your meal any more than we already have. I just have a surprise for Kristjan here, and it couldn't wait."
"Surprise?" Kristjan frowned as he set his own plate on an end table beside his recliner and stood up as Daniel took the three steps to draw himself closer. It was then that they noticed Daniel had a small box in his hand, one he was holding out toward Fenris in offering. Kristjan asked, "What is it?"
"Well if you'd take it and open it, you might find out." Was Daniel's only answer. Kristjan then did just that, taking the box in hand and he casually flipped the lid open and peered inside. With his brow creasing, he reached in with his fingertips and removed a DVD-rom disc in a plastic case. His confusion was evident as he held it up for his brother to see, and he turned back to Daniel and shrugged.
"Am I supposed to know what this is?" He asked, and Daniel could not help but find himself smiling. Daniel answered, "If you'd take the time to think about it, you might. But I'll go ahead and put you out of your misery."
Daniel extended a hand and tapped the case with his forefinger, stating, "That son, is the only copy of that video footage of what went down in the elevator." Kristjan's eyes rose to Daniel who chuckled, "Pardon the phrasing."
"Wait..." Aron started to say, his meal all but forgotten for the time being. "The only copy? You mean you...?"
Daniel nodded, "Took some time, and a little digging around, but that's it. The lad who had stolen the footage with the intent to sell? He had one or two other copies but they were all destroyed before he could finalize a deal."
"H-how...?" Fenris struggled to find his words as the enormity of the given situation weighed down upon him. "... how can you be sure?"
"I'm sure." Daniel said without even the barest trace of doubt behind his words.
"Daniel, I..." Kristjan was at a complete loss for words, a remarkable thing in itself. His first instinct was the flat out embrace the man in his gratitude, but something about Daniel's demeanor since they had first met practically screamed "Not a hugger!" Instead, he relied on the true method of giving thanks, extending his hand and Daniel gladly accepted it in the form of a handshake as Kristjan said, "I don;t know what to say... thank you!"
"That's more than enough." Daniel reaffirmed. "Just sorry it took us as long as it did. Truth be told, I didn't think we'd have it this soon but something happened Saturday that pretty much kicked it up a notch."
Fenris turned and gave the camera a direct look before he turned to say something else to Daniel, when he spotted Kyssa having hopped off her seat on the couch and was lapping up the contents of her master's plate.
"Seriously!?" Kristjan moaned as Aron roared in laughter!
Fight Capital Gym
Las Vegas's first training gym for Mixed Martial Arts, and the current setting for where the reigning World Heavyweight Champion of Sin City Wrestling stood, clad in his street clothes with the gold and jewel encrusted championship belt slung comfortably over his shoulder. There was one ring inside of this training gym, and like what was expected on the professional MMA circuit, it was enclosed in an octagon style cage. This was not the norm, however, as the ring usually went without a caged enclosure, but there was an amateur MMA show to be held, and the cage was a mere formality.
As was the usual for his own comfort, Fenris spoke in his native tongue while subtitles scrolled horizontally t the bottom of the screen for the benefit of the SCW Universe.
"I have seen only one match that they call a Lion's Den match, and that was t the very same event where I won this..."
He patted the center plate of the world title belt with his hand.
"Summer XXXTreme VI, between Ben Jordan and then Roulette Champion, Jon Dough. Ben Jordan was the winner, and since then has been a proud and fighting champion. Something he and I have a great deal in common. But there is a small difference between that match, and the one I find myself in this weekend. And no, I am not referring it being for the world championship. I'm talking about it being competed under MMA rules. When I first heard about this plan of Christian Underwood;s at the expense of Joshua Acquin, I wasn't happy. I do not like being lowered to the role of attack dog for anyone, using me as a means to an end. A punishment for someone that pisses off someone else! But there was also something else about this that troubled me."
"Joshua Acquin is a man that has much hype behind him. A former two-time World Tag Team Champion, which has its merits. An impressive feat, to say the very least. But his last taste of championship success in the tag team ranks was back in May of 2015. Over three years ago! Since then, how close has he come to championship success, singles or tag team!? His only hope lately was with Jessie Salco as a tag team partner and we all saw what happened there. So my annoyance lies with this burning question..."
"What the fuck are you even doing in this match, Acquin!? I know this was not your doing, but Christian's. But what the hell man!? A world title match!? YOU!?!? I've never been much for non-title matches myself. Personally speaking, I always felt if a champion fights, then his or her championship should be up for grabs. But this..."
He walked slowly around the enclosed ring, the fingers of his free hand gliding across the steel bars while he shook his head in wonder.
"If anything could put that belief to the test, this joke of a match sure as shit would! But I imagine making it for the gold was just a way to sweeten the pot, to justify you being in a main event level match as opposed to the usual bathroom break matches you've found yourself in lately. Can't fault you for accepting though. I don't think I could ever find myself turning away from a chance at a world title, but hell. I don't need to!"
He briefly held the belt up from his shoulder with a wide grin.
"I already have it! And you, Joshua? The big challenge for you, one might think, is to find a way to take it from me. While the thought is laughable at best when under normal circumstances in a wrestling match, but that's not what this is, is it?"
He shook his head, his eyes glimmering with anticipation.
"The whole fun of this match won't be picking you apart in the wrestling ring like I've done with everyone else they put in front of me. Guys like Casey Williams, Kain and Dmitri? Now those were fighters that rose to the fucking challenge! Guys that could both give me a lot of punishment but take it as well. This time will be more fun though. Something unique. Christian knew what he was doing, putting us in a match where the advantage was all mine. He obviously wanted you punished. Hurt. Oh, I know. I know."
He held up a hand to forestall any "argument, nodding with eyes closed in a faux sympathetic manner.
"You had SO MUCH MMA exposure, Joshua, in this match you just happened to remember after the match was announced, and your lack of MMA experience mentioned. Funny how these revelations always seem to find themselves on social media, isn't it? It reminds me of when my signing was first announced, and Xander Bishop (the little bitch) wasn't able to handle someone else getting any publicity that didn't involve him, and he immediately declared that he had underground MMA experience as well! Never mind the fact that for as long as he had been around and been promoting himself, this little nugget of information wasn't even a blip on the radar until my history made SCW headlines!"
"And now here you are, Acquin, talking about how you have had some MMA exposure, in... what was it again?"
He frowned.
"Some fucked up match where the ring was surrounded by razor wire? Bitch, please! That's not MMA! That's not wrestling! It's just some fucked up bullshit that has NOTHING to do with any form of athletic prowess or competition in any way, shape or form! But this... where we're going to find ourselves this coming Sunday?"
He nodded and his lips spread in a smile that showed his pearly whites.
"This is where you get introduced to an all new world, Acquin. A world you'll be banished from just as easily as you enter. A world that will, like so many others, reject you and toss you out to the curb. This is MY world! The Lion's Den. MMA! And, most importantly, the World Heavyweight Championship! My title, and one that I can only imagine you have blissful dreams at stealing away from me."
He shook his head.
"It wouldn't happen in a wrestling ring, and it sure as shit won't happen here! Everything I know, everything I've been trained for since I was a teenager, all that will come back to haunt you, a fitting choice of words considering we are so close to Halloween, hm? Every punch, every kick, I'm going to take extra care to make sure you feel and remember so you don't ever make the mistake of believing you can hang with me inside of the octagon cage! Thinking you have what it takes to end my streak and walk away with my world title! The only fitting end to all of this, the most humbling of all, would be to make a man of your stature and reputation, cry uncle and give up. To tap out in front of so many and be forced to admit that you just weren't man enough to do the job...?"
He nodded, his expression now one more serious.
"That prospect I like. I won't have this taken from me before High Stakes VIII, or even then. I'm not ready. And yes, Joshua. I would be the first to admit that it's been a long time since I was in any form of MMA fight. Too long, really. Damn near a full year. But I do have those close to me, who were all too willing to help me remember the thrill of that life. The high of standing inside of the cage and having the door closed and locked behind you. Knowing the only thing standing between you and success, is some poor bastard across the ring from you. Just waiting to be beaten senseless. Maksym. Gabriel. They helped me. I remember."
"Good for me. Bad for you."
The lights in the gym dimmed.
