~As the shot comes up, we get an aerial view from a drone of the recently refurbished lot that once held an abandoned warehouse. An incredible amount of work has been done on this location, removing all the debris and adding in grass, trees, a brick path, and what appears to be a pavilion in the center of the lot. It truly stands out, considering that there are still buildings located on either side of the lot. The drone heads lower, focusing on the still-functional parking area outside of the lot, where we see our usual cameraman piloting the drone via remote. He catches it upon his return, looking into the lens for a few seconds, a rare occurrence for us.!
Cameraman: Didn't see him once. Hmmm.
~The cameraman turns and puts the drone away inside the van, making sure it's facing out so we can still see him as he reaches around and gets his usual gear, popping it up on his shoulder. The feed immediately shifts to the hand-held camera, as the cameraman shuts the van door, making sure that it's locked. There is some expensive equipment in there, after all, given to him by Sin City Wrestling. Losing it would be a pretty severe shot to his paycheck, that's for sure. He turns and walks towards the lot, taking in the newly-hoisted entrance gate. It's not locked, so the cameraman swings it open and steps inside, looking around.~
Cameraman: Vaughn? You in here?
~The cameraman pans around in confusion, as it's never been hard to track down Vaughn before. After a few moments, we can hear the cameraman triggering his cell phone.~
Cameraman: Hey, I'm here at the site at the usual time, but I don't know where Peter Vaughn is. No, he didn't leave me any messages. Have you heard from him recently? ... That's strange. Yes, I know I'm supposed to get some content from him... wait, how is it MY fault if he's not here? Well, can't we just use old footage that never aired? ... No, you're right. Okay. OKAY! I'll look around some more. Hey, I'm not getting blamed for... hello?
~The phone call clearly disconnected, and not on the cameraman's end, either. A few choice curse words are conveniently bleeped out, although you DO hear something about someone's mother. After that, the cameraman starts into the lot, opting to take the brick path that Vaughn recently got laid down.~
Cameraman: You better be in here somewhere, Vaughn... or you'd better have a good reason for no-showing me...
~The cameraman moves off, heading down the red-bricked road, with no intentions of finding a scarecrow, a tin man, or a cowardly lion. He just wants a champion. We fade out, with the question left for everyone to ponder: where is Peter Vaughn?~
~After the quick cutaway, we find ourselves... seemingly in the backstage area of an arena, from the looks of things. It's hard to differentiate exactly which one, as Sin City has made the journey to so many over the years. They all tend to blend together over time. The picture moves along the hallway, making its way around a corner to the right, where we see a very familiar individual standing with his back against the wall. Mac Bane, the former SCW World Heavyweight Champion, takes a long drink from one of his favorite beverages, letting out a satisfied sigh right afterwards. The sound of footsteps reaches his ears, causing Bane to push off the wall and straighten up, turning to his left. That's where he comes face-to-face with the current SCW Roulette Champion, Peter Vaughn.~
Mac Bane: Peter.
Peter Vaughn: Mac.
~The two men consider each other, both in friendly and competitive ways. They've fought multiple times for titles before, neither backing down from the challenge, but they've also allied up on more than one occasion, including most recently in the Saviors of SCW. After a few seconds, Bane gives Vaughn a nod.~
Mac Bane: How have you been doing, Pete?
Peter Vaughn: Could be better, could be worse. I've had a lot of stuff weighing me down lately, keeping me grounded. I'm trying to work through some solutions, but it's been... difficult.
Mac Bane: Talk to me. Maybe I can help.
~Vaughn puts a hand on the wall, taking a moment to think things through.~
Peter Vaughn: I think it has to do with my future in SCW, Mac. You know I joined this company mainly as a favor for you. I also thought I'd get a match with Matt Knox, but that never happened. Since then, I seem to have gotten into a rut. The only competition that keeps coming for me is the guys who should be thinking about retirement and the guys still shaking off their training diapers.
Mac Bane: And you've shown them how good you are by keeping that Roulette Championship.
~Bane points down at Vaughn's title, which is around his waist. Strange, as it wasn't there before... or maybe it was, and we just didn't notice it. Either way, Vaughn pats it, showing his love for the gold.~
Peter Vaughn: I'm proud of this championship, don't get me wrong. I'd love to beat Griffin Hawkins' 190-day run. I'm already at 108 days, so it's certainly possible. But I can't help but wonder, am I just treading water? Should I get more serious about moving forward towards the top of the wrestling world and aim for that World Championship, just as Goth is?
Mac Bane: You threatened by Goth, your own teammate in the Saviors?
Peter Vaughn: No, no, of course not. I respect Goth, you know that. He's done a lot in SCW, he deserves everything coming to him. I just... I feel like I need to start breaking through, you know?
~Bane nods knowingly, before stepping forward towards Vaughn, looking him dead in the eye.~
Mac Bane: You're right, Pete. You need to start pushing yourself more. You've only got a little time left.
Peter Vaughn: Well, I don't know about that, I'm still working in my prime right now...
~Bane shoves Vaughn back against the wall, surprising him.~
Mac Bane: You're going to need to focus, Pete! You need to find that intensity that made you a six-time World Champion, and you must channel that intensity into your future if you want to be the best!
Peter Vaughn: I haven't lost that, Mac, you know that...
Mac Bane: You're dreaming if you think you haven't lost something. Now get yourself up. Now.
Peter Vaughn: What do you...
Mac Bane: WAKE UP, VAUGHN!! NOW!!!
~Bane then rears back, swinging straight at Vaughn's face. He instinctively tries to duck out of the way...~
~... and wakes up, banging his head against the edge of the dark wall behind him. He winces, rubbing his head. The camera shot has changed dramatically, as we now are watching Vaughn through a night-vision shot. If you think he looks creepy in normal light, you probably won't see this as much of an improvement. Vaughn sits up, suddenly realizing that water is splashing around him. He quickly gets back to his feet.~
Peter Vaughn: Right... the underground reservoir collapsed, trapping us in here. And of COURSE it must be raining outside. Hey, old man? You still around here? Old man?
~Vaughn reaches into his pocket, feeling around, and manages to find an old lighter that the old man had given him earlier. He flicks it a few times, finally getting a flame to appear, and turns to his left. Nothing. He turns to the right... and the old man is right there, looking at him.~
Peter Vaughn: Geez! Man, why didn't you say anything?
~The man just shrugs.~
Older Man: La Muerte.
Peter Vaughn: I told you, we're NOT going to die down here! I've had too much success lately to end up a mythical disappearing act for those YouTube crime videos to talk about. Now, c'mon. I'm curious as to where, exactly, this water is coming from.
~Vaughn starts walking down the reservoir, with the old man sullenly stepping in line behind him. It's clear he's already given up hope. Vaughn, though? He's just getting started.~
You never know what can motivate you to be a survivor, an achiever... a winner.
I've had plenty of motivations push me through life. I've had the fact that I lived up poor under a single custodian father push me to fight for greatness as I got older. I've had positive reinforcement from men like The Accelerator, may he rest in peace, and negative reinforcement like my former manager, Jonathan Barrows. I've fought for respect, I've fought for money, and I've fought for power.
I must admit, though, I don't think I've ever been motivated by a Twitter post.
Sorry, an X post. Damn, I hate that name.
So, Edds, let me get this straight. You're mad at me because I said I would be lenient as the referee in your match against Jaycee? Did you want me to come in saying that if I see you put a single toe out of line, I'd disqualify you and steal away your opportunity for a championship match? Would that have made you feel better? It's not like it mattered anyway.
You should come to understand that for Roulette matches, the referee is rarely that much of a factor. Sure, there are a few styles of match where he or she will still be needed to make the count for the pinfall or decide on the submission. But for the majority of the matches I've had, the referee has just been there to raise the hand of the winner, aka me.
Now, I could have come into my position as referee and immediately attacked someone, say, yourself, and decided the winner. Then again, when special refs do maneuvers like that, they usually end up in a triple threat, so it made zero sense for me to get involved that way. Instead, I did what I said I was going to do. I didn't get too involved, I stayed lenient, and you got the victory.
If that hurts your honor with the mere thought of you bending a rule, well, you've got a lot to learn about the wrestling business.
You see, Eddie, in my career, I've done a lot of wild things to win. I've used tranquilizer guns. I've used a rigged doorway that sent 30,000 volts into my opponent. I've used duct tape to its fullest potential. I've set my opponents up and sent them spiraling down, with one awe-inspiring plan after another. But I have to admit, that hasn't rang as true in Sin City, ironically enough.
Here, Edz, I've mostly got the victories by simply... winning the match. Odds are, that's all I'm going to need for a wet behind the ears rookie like you, too.
I mean, I'll do what's allowed, depending on the match type that's chosen. If there are no rules, there are none to break. It's not like I have any personal code of honor holding me back from doing what needs to be done... like certain other wrestlers. So do you have it in you, I wonder, Eds? To take that step into the unknown, and take the fight to me with anything and everything at your disposal?
Or will your motivation to be honorable supersede your motivation to be a winner?
Time will tell, I suppose.
~Lighter in hand, Vaughn moves down the side of the wall, checking regularly for any streams of water. He begins to find them, poking through vents hidden in the decorations left behind by the Mayans. It shouldn't be that big a surprise that some of the mouths on the wall are the ones where the vents are.~
Peter Vaughn: Nobody can resist a vomiting water sight gag, I suppose.
~The water's beginning to rise in the reservoir, as it's doing exactly what it's intended to do: store water for the future needs of a civilization. It's the main reason Vaughn came here, as he wanted to see the techniques used, and get a feel for what would work for him back on his PMV Ranch in Texas. Unfortunately, after a cave-in, Vaughn has been getting a much closer view of the workings of the reservoir than he was ever wanting. He studies the carvings on the wall, considering them more closely.~
Peter Vaughn: Interesting, how they loop the figures around the way they do. Could that mean something, old-timer? Do you think this could signal some way for us to get out of here?
~Vaughn looks back at the older man, who is just shaking his head.~
Older Man: Voy a morir aquí abajo con este americano ignorante. Ni siquiera me pagó.
~The older man wanders off, stepping through the rising water, as Vaughn glares at him.~
Peter Vaughn: I caught that part. "Ignorant American", indeed. YOU'RE the one who said we could go here!!
~There's no response, as the man keeps moving away, apparently not wanting to die next to the man he blames for this. Annoyed, Vaughn turns back to the carvings.~
Peter Vaughn: Fine. You go your way, I'll go mine. There's got to be a back door. There's always a back door in these places. I just have to figure it out. Let's see...
~Vaughn begins tracing his hand around the seams, checking for any levers or pulleys. Suddenly, though, he looks back at the seams.~
Peter Vaughn: Wait... why are there grooves here? It's not just a pattern, is it?
~He readjusts his one hand in the seam, trying to see if the circular pattern there moves. It does, just a touch. Vaughn grins, shifting his other hand over to help... only to have the lighter go out. There are several moments of frantic sparks, before Vaughn manages to get the lighter going again. He breathes a sigh of relief, before considering his options.~
Peter Vaughn: I'm going to need some strength to get this twister moving... but I can't do it in the dark. Damn it. Hey, old-timer! OLD-TIMER!! Get back over here, I need your help!
~The only sound is a muttered Spanish curse word in the distance. Vaughn answers with one of his own.~
Peter Vaughn: Son of a bitch... I knew I needed to follow through on that Babbel learning course Sadie wanted me to take...
~With no other choice, Vaughn starts to push through the water after the old-timer, trying to make sure to keep the lighter above the streams still coming in. It must be some storm outside. We cut away once again.~
~The shot switches to a window frame back in Texas. In a strange coincidence, it also appears to be raining there, as Sadie Anderson, Vaughn's #1 ranch hand (and secret flame) stares outwards at the weather. She's holding her cell phone, waiting, but the ringing just continues on the other end for a few more times before ending in a disconnect, as the satellite phone user cannot be reached. She hangs up, shaking her head.~
Sadie Anderson: Damn it, Peter. You were supposed to have checked in by now. I know you trust me to take care of everything here, but I'd still like your sign-off before I act...
~Sadie turns away from the window, looking over at her laptop, where she's got a series of order forms lined up, ready to be sent off. She steps up to them, reading them over one more time.~
Sadie Anderson: Feed for the horses, check. Feed for the chickens, check. Feed for the ranch hands... hmmm, maybe I'd better order a few more sandwich bundles, the way these guys eat.
~She makes the necessary corrections, then studies everything once more. She glances over at the cell phone, then shrugs.~
Sadie Anderson: If he complains about the expenses, I'll tell him he should have called me back.
~Sadie quickly presses Send on each of the invoices, shooting them off to be filled. The PMV Ranch will get the supplies it needs to keep running. Thankfully, Sadie has full access to Vaughn's bank account, basically the only one with that privilege. She still feels guilty, though, as she jumps when her cell phone suddenly rings.~
Sadie Anderson: Oh, NOW he calls back!
~Mumbling to herself about the necessity of her actions, she steps over and answers the call, noting the different country code.~
Sadie Anderson: Hello, Peter? Oh, sorry. This is Sadie, yes. Oh, you're the guide who was taking Vaughn to... wait, what? WHAT?? He's trapped?? With your father??
~Sadie looks extremely concerned, pacing in front of her desk as she thinks things over.~
Sadie Anderson: Have you gotten anyone to go out there yet and try and dig them out? Okay, look, I know a wrestling organization that's there, they've got some pretty strong guys and gals who can probably help. Let me get in touch with Sin City and get back to you. If you can find someone else with equipment that can reach there... no, I realize it's pretty far from the main city. We'll find a way. This number works to call you? Okay, I'll call you back.
~The phone hangs up, with Sadie hurrying over to her computer to find the contact information for various members of the Saviors, knowing that one of them will be able to help, in some way or fashion. As she searches, she curses to herself.~
Sadie Anderson: Damn it, Peter, I told you this wasn't worth it!
~As Sadie begins to work the phone calls, we jump away again.~
Isn't it great to have someone worried about you?
I guess your family probably fulfills that need for you, Edds. You're lucky in that regard. I'm estranged from my mother. My father is dead. I rarely talk to my half-sister, and as for my half-brother, well, I guess I'm lucky he's still alive at this point. With no signs of a family of my own coming in the future, I'm what you would probably call a loner.
I guess, in some ways, I envy you for that, Eddie.
I mean, yeah, you need to release the strings binding you to them a little, work on establishing your own identity separate from the Lyons estate. But at least you've got them to back you up. Me? I have the Saviors, and I have my ranch. Now, will the Saviors play a part at the pay-per-view, do you think? Could Mac or the Troll make an appearance and shake things up?
Yeah, probably not. They haven't had much to do with my Roulette Title reign to this point, I don't see them starting now.
But the truth is, I haven't needed them to continue my winning ways, Eddy. I don't have to lean on them for major support, or cry to them on the phone when someone gives me a boo-boo. Okay, I'm mocking you a little, but I can't help it. I see your potential, Eds, really, I do, but if you keep sticking to your family's notions of honor before glory, well, you may never reach the glory section. You may always be stranded down there as the lesser Lyon, and that would suck.
But if you could find a way to loosen those restrictions and fight me with everything available, hey, you might still become something great in Sin City. And you see, that's what you should see as being on the line: your future. Sure, you may think that you have nothing to lose here, and it's true, people have rebounded from getting their ass kicked by the Mechanic, no question. But there have also been some wrestlers who were touted as the future who never recovered from the 'humiliation' of losing to a former janitor.
You'd think enough of them had fallen by now that it'd be a badge of honor, but I still hear people say a loss to me is a disgrace. Funny, huh?
So yes, Lyonel, you have a lot to lose at Violent Conduct. You could lose the respect you've earned. You could lose your "Unbreakable" status. You could lose the feeling in your fingers and toes if I end up hitting you just right. Paralysis is never out of the question, especially with some of the maneuvers I'm known to do. Let's see, what else? You'd lose a portion of your paycheck, taking the defeat, but then, you seem like a trust-fund baby, so that may not bother you that much.
Still, though, whether you want to admit it or not, you truly do have a lot on the line for our match. If you come in acting like it doesn't matter if you lose... well, you may end up badly regretting it once I'm done with you. Because if I decide your heart isn't in our fight, and you're just there to "put in an appearance", well, I may just have to embarrass you. I might have to wash the mat with your face, slap the hell out of that 'pretty' face of yours, and maybe cut off some that beard on your chinny-chin chin.
You look like you could use a shave.
But it's all about how I'm feeling that night, Edds. I could keep it on the up-and-up, and we have ourselves a hell of a fight that threatens to steal the show. Or I could make it a mockery of your entire career.
Think your family is going to be watching, worried for you?
~The picture comes back inside the reservoir, where the rainwater appears to still be rising. Vaughn, though, has more important things on his mind, dragging a weakly-fighting old man back down the short corrider where the chamber is.~
Peter Vaughn: Stop struggling!! This could be our way out, and I need your help!!
Older Man: ¡Me va a ahogar! ¡Demonio! ¡El esta loco!
~The older man tries to break away again, but Vaughn just shoves him hard against the wall, pinning him there. He then holds him with one hand, before bringing up the lighter in his other hand, catching the man's eyes. Vaughn waves it in front of him, with the man wincing, expecting to be burned. But Vaughn just puts it into the man's hand, then points at the wall.~
Peter Vaughn: You hold! I'll lift! Got it?
~While not looking convinced, the older man does seem a little more confident with the flickering lighter in his hand. He lifts it up, trying to figure out what Vaughn has in mind. Vaughn, though, doesn't wait. He reaches down and starts working around the grooves once again, trying to get them rotating in the right direction. After a few stubborn seconds, it begins to move, with it creaking as Vaughn pushes the circle around. Confused, the older man steps in a little closer... and then his eyes widen, as he realizes what's about to happen.~
Older Man: ¡Espera, idiota! Tú vas a...
~Before anything else can be said, Vaughn manages to turn the grooves enough that a portion of them open up, popping loose. Unfortunately, it's less like a door and more like a seal, as the portion flies backwards, knocking Vaughn into the water... as a wave comes flooding through the now-opened passageway! The older man shouts in terror at the increase in water flow, raising them up closer to the ceiling now. Vaughn breaks the surface, coughing for a second before taking everything in. We're back to night vision, since the lighter was put out by the flood, but Vaughn can at least make out the opening.~
Peter Vaughn: Well... that explains how there's so much water. Extra tunnels, right?
~The older man doesn't say anything, probably thinking about Death once more. He starts to swim away, but Vaughn grabs him, dragging him towards the opening.~
Peter Vaughn: Sorry, old-timer, but I'd probably face legal charges if I let you drown here, and I've got a career to worry about. This may not be ideal, but this new tunnel goes upwards, which is what we're needing. Let's see where it goes!
~They begin climbing up the tunnel, which appears to be in very poor shape. It was clearly less maintained than the original reservoir. Still, the two seem to be making progress, pulling themselves up, even as the passage continues to get narrower and narrower...~
It's too bad there was already a swimming pool match recently. I'm getting myself plenty of practice in the water.
But then, that's what it is all about, isn't it, Lyons? "Practice". As in, you need more of it to be a truly great wrestler. Nobody can step right into the middle of the three-ring circus and take it over on the first day. You have to start out slow, probably as one of the clowns. Or maybe one of the sweepers after the show, because the animals are always leaving some fecal matter behind.
You have to work your way up the ladder. You can't take shortcuts. You can't fly to the top, because as Icarus showed, you can get burned that way.
So you may have earned this title shot, Edds, and you may think that this is going to be your big first moment, but I'm going to be doing you a favor. I'm going to kick you back down the steps, let you get a taste of defeat, and see how it sits with you. We'll see if a man from the famous Lyons Den is able to cope with the loss or not. Because you will take losses, my friend, oh yes, you will take losses.
It happens to the best of us, and you're not in that category yet.
Now, maybe in the future, when I'm ready to take my next leap upwards, you'll get another shot at this championship. Maybe getting your face stomped in by me now will lead to you being a better contender in the future, knowing more about what's needed to get the victory. Hey, maybe you'll even thank me in the long run.
Doubtful, I know, but there's still a chance.
Just take what lessons you can from this, Edz. Try and think of it as a growing experience, even if it's painful. Even if you find yourself wanting to tap out and run away. Hang in there, kitty cat. You'll survive, I'm fairly sure.
Nobody's died yet from taking the Plunge.
Good luck, boyo. You're going to need it.
~We now find ourselves outside in the jungle area, nearby where the collapse originally happened. We can hear noise through the rainstorm, coming closer, as flashlights can be seen. A vehicle manages to push through the trees, a smaller crane with a hook added on for effect. Walking behind it, we can see the younger man from earlier, nervously leading a small crew of men towards the collapsed reservoir. They get close, with the younger man pointing out where it happened. A leader steps forward, pointing that way. He speaks in a slightly English accent, showing he's a foreigner to these lands.~
Leader: Okay, men, we need to try and dig our way down. Hopefully this doesn't go too far in... because if it does, well, the odds are low that we'll find anyone alive. So lets get to work!
~As the men start to step forward, ready to work, there's a sudden whistling noise over from the right. The group turns, looking around, to see a hand sticking up out of the ground! It waves back and forth, getting their attention.~
Leader: What on earth??
~The leader hurries forward, along with the younger man. They pull away some rocks, finding a small vent in the ground designed to collect the rainwater. Inside, staring out at them, we can see Peter Vaughn. He smiles at them.~
Peter Vaughn: Good to see you guys. Guess they called in the calvary? Well, we need...
Older Man: Mijo!
Younger Man: Papa!
~The older man shoves Vaughn out of the way, sending him falling back into the water and sliding down the tunnel some, as he reaches through to grasp his son's hand. The two share a bonding moment, each glad to see the other still alive. Vaughn, meanwhile, gets himself up and grumpily comes back up, looking around them through the narrow opening, too narrow for anyone to squeeze through.~
Peter Vaughn: Could you just open this, please? I'd like to get out of here...
Leader: Right away. Shovels, men! Everyone stand back!
~Vaughn has to pull the older man back, out of harm's way, so that the crew can work on widening the hole leading to the tunnel. After a few minutes, it's cleared out enough that both men can squeeze out, earning a cheer from the workers. They're obviously overjoyed to not only finding people alive, but finding them in record time. The leader gives Vaughn a pat on the shoulders, with Vaughn nodding his thanks to him. He then turns, handing a soggy envelope to the older man.~
Peter Vaughn: Your pay. I should probably dock you for almost killing me, but I'm a fair man.
~The older man takes the envelope, looking inside it. He then locks eyes with Vaughn. He raises three fingers.~
Peter Vaughn: You... you want triple the fee? You SAID this place was safe enough to look at!! This was all your fault!
~The older man keeps his three fingers up, even as the younger man, his son, moves in next to him to give him another hug. Seeing this, Vaughn scowls, before reaching back into his bag.~
Peter Vaughn: I'll see what I can do... damn it...
~As Vaughn searches for money, we slowly fade away, leaving the scene of the near disaster. Thankfully, everything seems to have worked out.~
~When we next come up, we're once again back inside the transformed lot somewhere in Dallas, Texas. The cameraman has continued moving, making his way towards the center of the mini-labyrinth of trees and grassy knolls. He gets to the pavilion in the center, focusing the camera on the figure sitting inside, drinking from a glass.~
Cameraman: THERE you are! I've been searching for you everywhere, Vaughn!
~Vaughn sits up, glancing over at the man, before taking another sip from his drink. It's hard to tell exactly what it is. The color could be an expensive chardonnay... or a fruit drink. Impossible to tell without tasting it. Either way, Vaughn sets it to the side before getting to his feet, doing a quick stretch.~
Peter Vaughn: You should try having to wait here for an hour with nothing else to do but drink and relax. It's boring as hell. But I'm glad you finally made it in here, my man. So, what'd you think of my little creation?
Cameraman: It looks very familiar...
Peter Vaughn: Oh, it's my own design, I assure you. I might have... borrowed from a few other places, but it's built the way I wanted it. I call it... the Garden of Betrayal. What do you think? Cool name?
~The cameraman turns, looking around in each direction, getting shots of the trees, the trellis, the paths, and the pavilion. He shakes his head in shock, amazed that he didn't see it before.~
Cameraman: Is this... from the Game of Thrones??
Peter Vaughn: Nope. It's all my idea.
Cameraman: But... the way that path leads to here...
Peter Vaughn: Similarities are coincidental. Trust me. All that you need to know is that, for the coming future, we're going to be having all of our initial interviews here... and we'll see if I can convince some other wrestlers to make the trip here as well.
Cameraman: If they're smart, they'll stay away... I've seen what happens in a place like this...
~Vaughn steps forward, staring intently at the cameraman, who backs away slightly.~
Peter Vaughn: Don't make assumptions. Now, since you're here, carry a message for me, will you? Tell that Eddie Lyons to prepare for a hell of a war. It will be a battle not seen since dragons once ruled the earth. And in the end, when I'm triumphant and keeping my seat at the head of the table, he'll need to prepare for a new blemish in his family line. In this game, he stands no chance.
Cameraman: Seriously, how did I not see the Game of Thrones references?
Peter Vaughn: That's on you, boyo. Now, be off. I've got some more contemplation to take care of.
Cameraman: ... It took me 20 minutes to get here lugging this camera.
Peter Vaughn: Leave me. I need to prepare for the battles ahead.
~Vaughn turns his back, sitting away from the cameraman, who appears to consider a Red Wedding possibility before turning and departing, grumbling all the way at the lack of footage. He turns back once more, giving us a shot of Vaughn sitting inside his newly constructed sanctuary, with his eyes shut and a smile on his face. We fade out.~