Kerkyra/Corfu, Greece - April 10, 2020“K… K, come on!” Aron called aloud to his brother in their shared native tongue, the better to see they could speak openly but without any nosey bystanders bothering to understand them. You know how people are; when voices get raised, ears automatically tune in and the attention of all around them would turn in their general direction as if it was their god given right to listen in and enjoy the drama. Not so easy a thing to indulge in when the participants are speaking what is ranked as the toughest language to learn; Icelandic.
After the pronouncement from the reigning World Heavyweight Champion Mac Bane that he would defend the Heavyweight title against Matthew “the Raven” Knox, a rival that had stood against him for longer than he cared to admit. Knox was, in truth, an unproven commodity in the SCW hierarchy even if he had held a number of championships and wins elsewhere. The announcement had been made, and there was more than one Superstar that audibly groaned in disappointment that his name had not been called out by the champion. Some even discussed the possibility of lobbying a protest with Christian Underwood and Mark Ward over Bane’s choice, but the point was moot. Nothing would be done. By winning the Blast From the Past alongside Mikah, as reigning champion, he was given the right to choose his own challenger.
And he had chosen Matthew Knox.
“K…!” Aron called again but his brother simply was not listening, or not responding. Aron knew his brother better than any, and that would include the volatile moods that he was famous for in backstage circles, and the viewers were privy to one just moments ago when not only did he vented toward the comely reporter for SCW; Ms. Rocky Mountains, but he had also found himself backed into a corner in a rematch against JC, a man that he had already bested in combat mere weeks ago. Fenris never backed down from a direct challenge, and even though he felt little desire to face a man again so soon after already defeating him, he felt obligated to do so by reputation alone.
The doors that led to the parking garage of the Corfu National Stadium burst open and Fenris plowed through, dragging his luggage behind him rather than allow his brother to fulfill his managerial (and little brother) obligation of toting it for him. He also knew his sibling and he knew that if he waited for Aron to do so, the more level-headed of the siblings would try to talk him down and sometimes when you were pissed about something, you just wanted to keep it going until you calmed down on your own!
Sometimes, another making the attempt only served to make you angrier.
“K, where are you going???” Aron finally caught up with Fenris and placed a hand on his shoulder to bring him to a (brief) halt. Fenris turned around and gave his brother a look as if he had just asked him the dumbest question uttered in the history of humankind.
“Where does it look like, Aron!?” He turned to resume the power walk toward their shared rental. “I’m going back to the hotel!”
“But… the show isn’t over yet!”
“It is for me!” And off he went, with Aron chasing after him and struggling to make him see reason, but with a man that lost his temper as easily as his brother? It was a losing battle; much like a table fan blowing against a wind storm.
Aron held out his arms, calling after him at his side, “But you can’t leave before a show is over! Remember what happened the last time when Gabriel said…”
But Fenris swung around, almost inadvertently swinging his luggage as well in the process. He stated simply, “Gabriel. Isn’t. Here!”
“I know he isn’t.” Aron said in as calm a voice as he could muster when dealing with this human hurricane and trying to keep him from getting into any more trouble than he was capable of withstanding. Going up against his peers in the ring, sure Aron worried. Family always did, but he had full confidence that his brother would prevail. But doing something that might upset Mark Ward and/or Christian Underwood - their mutual bosses, that was another matter entirely.
“But Mark and Christian are.” The younger of the two reasoned. “And they might take it as an even bigger slight than Gabriel did.”
“Your point?” Fenris stated simply, letting go of the luggage handle and crossing his arms over his chest.
“My point is that Gabriel is right. Just leaving isn’t done, or isn’t supposed to.” Aron waved a hand back toward the door they had just emerged from. He went on to say, “Mark or Christian may have need for one of us before the night is through. What if someone is hurt and can’t compete and they need you to step in?”
“Oh huzzah!” Fenris rolled his eyes. “I was not good enough to book in the first place so they use me as a fill in. Come on, A. You know me better than that! What else you got?”
“Okay, what if leaving like this pisses Christian off?” He asked. “You know that guy is vindictive toward people that upset him. He may not target you but what if he uses me as a means to get to you?”
“THAT…” Fenris aimed a finger right at Aron. “...is fighting dirty!”
Aron rested his hands on his slim waistline and sighed. “And what if the same thing happened tonight that happened last time? What if some sick kid wanted to meet you and they find out that you left without telling anyone?”
Fenris snatched back up the handle of his luggage, but this time shoved it right at Aron who by instinct wrapped his hand around it. Fenris stated, “And THAT is fighting even dirtier!” That being said, Fenris did an about turn and walked back toward the stadium entrance from the garage with a rather relieved looking Aron following right after him.
Rhodes, Greece - Current
Johnny’s PubThere are many benefits to having someone in your life that you are lucky enough to call a friend. A good friend gives someone a sense of purpose and a feeling of belonging. They boost a person’s happiness and help to reduce stress. A good friend knows what you like. A friend knows what you need, and when you need it. That friend does not worry about reaching out and extending a helping hand whenever you are in need, whether you realize that you are or not. Whether you want to admit to being in need or not.
In the heart of the city of Rhodes, was this quaint pub that was an attraction to both tourists and locals alike. It had a full service drink menu, charming staff and an atmosphere that helped to relax even the most stressed. Live, Greek inspired music played from the band that was atop a small stage just outside where the guests relaxed on the pub’s open-air patio. It was busy, but not so crowded as to cause discomfort to the guests who had found their way here, to one of the choice drinking establishments in the heart of Rhodes. Ben Jordan aka “the Cockney King” had wanted to venture out for a late afternoon drink (or three), and knew that his buddy Kristjan aka Fenris, would be the most likely of candidates aside from Max Burke who would be ready and willing to tag along. Ben could count on one hand the number of times where Kristjan had turned down the chance to go out and have a few stiff drinks, an act that he had turned into quite the art form. Plus, Ben knew that Fenris had been bothered as of late during this Greek tour since its inception, and not merely because he had been passed over (again) for a shot at the World Championship.
Note that we said Kristjan, because when discussing friends, that was who he was to Ben. Kristjan the man and one of his closest friends, not Fenris the wrestler. The relationship between the two had started as casual drinking buddies but once the walls between them had first come down, a bond was forged, and a very strong one at that. So strong that Ben had traveled all the way to Iceland to bring his friend back to the competitive circles of Sin City Wrestling after following Kristjan’s breakup with Ty West and his return to his native country to isolate himself and hopefully recover. The two shared their tragic pasts where relationships were concerned. Ben told him a sordid tale that he had shared with few, and Kristjan had confided in him about his tragic first heartbreak, and a loss that haunted him to this day. Fenris stated once that had it not been for Ben, he did not know when he might have recovered well enough to return to the states and resume his in-ring career.
Friends did that for one another.
“So…” Ben said from the corner table where he sat across from Kristjan. “Where’s Aron? I told you to invite him. Haven’t seen him much during this tour.”
“I know, but he wanted to go on a tour to that Mandraki harbor.” Kristjan said from where he leaned back against his chair and all but rolled his eyes at the audacity that his own flesh and blood would rather go see the sights as opposed to grabbing a drink. “Aron was always into mythology and apparently this harbor used to be the site of one of the Seven Wonders of the World?”
“The Colossus of Rhodes.” Ben spoke up, and somehow it did not surprise Kristjan in the slightest that Ben would have this little nugget of trivia stashed away in that brain of his. “Nerd.” Kristjan quipped, his words aimed playfully at Ben but Ben shook his head sadly, “Not a nice thing to say about your own brother.”
Ben raised a hand to the waitress to signal another round, who had made playful and flirty eyes at both men, whether in hopes of a better tip or with amorous intentions, neither was certain, although the former she had the only chance at with either. Ben then turned to Kristjan and said, “It wouldn’t hurt you to go experience some of the sites, you know. Aron said neither of you had ever been to Greece.”
“We haven’t.” Kristjan shrugged, acting indifferent to the whole experience of a new country even though Ben saw right through the act. “And I’ve seen enough.”
“Bars don’t count.” Ben smiled, knowing damn well that Kristjan had spent a good chunk of his time touring – the Greek pubs. “We could have went with Aron to see that .. harbor. Shame he went by himself.”
“He and I have gone on plenty of tours since this whole Greek tour started, Ben. believe it or not.” Kristjan said. “I just have no desire to spend an hour touring a place that smells like fish shit!”
Ben snorted back a laugh, his friend’s caustic way of putting things never failing to amuse or entertain. But before he could speak any further, Kristjan asked of him, “Where is Burke? I thought you said he was coming with us.”
“I don’t know where he is.” Ben said as he leaned over only slightly in his seat to look past Kristjan to the outside of the pub and at the city that surrounded them, as if hoping to see his other friend Max out there. “I think it’s his first time to Greece too. Might have gotten lost trying to hail a cab.”
Just then, the waitress returned to the table with their drinks and set each one down in front of its recipient, smiling at each of the handsome men in turn and adding a coy wink. Ben smiled back and raised a glass to her in thanks because that is just the sort of gentleman he was, but took it no further as he was a very happily married man. Kristjan just flat out ignored her as he picked up his own glass and started to take a drink when…
"So, you and David Shepherd, hm?" Ben asked, causing Kristjan to choke on the mouthful of strong, Greek beer and he almost spit it everywhere but managed to somehow choke it down instead.
“Careful lad!” Ben all but chuckled at Kristjan’s reaction to his probing question. The two had kept in comfortable communication since Ben had taken his leave from active competition, but they never touched on the obvious topic that Kristjan and David Shepherd had begun dating quite seriously. A fact that Ben was only too happy to know because it meant that his friend’s emotional wounds were in the process of healing, and he had David to thank for that.
Some heads turned, but few lingered as Kristjan managed to clear his passages and looked at Ben, teary-eyed and face flushed from the coughing fit. Not from embarrassment - we SWEAR!
“Well go on!” Fenris choked in a raspy voice, clearing his throat against a clenched fist as best he could given the circumstances. “Get it over with!”
“Get what over with?” Ben shook his head, his brow knitted into a frown of slight confusion despite the fact there was a wisp of a smile on his face, turning the corners of his lips upward.
“Whatever lame ass wisecrack you probably want to say!” Kristjan reached over to pick his drink up again, albeit this time with a touch more caution. “Maybe about how our match broke down with a make out session or on that cruise how we got more noise complaints than every other passenger combined???” Kristjan waved a hand to beckon Ben on to get it over with, but instead his friend simply rested back in a relaxed manner in his chair, the evening’s drinks warming his blood. Ben smiled a genuine bright smile and raised a glass to Kristjan in a silent toast.
Kristjan’s eyebrows rose in a slight surprise and he asked, “Nothing?”
“Nothing.” Ben answered simply after taking a sip from his own drink and setting it back down onto the table’s surface. He then looked up and asked, “Do you remember that talk we had in Iceland, when we were confessing our pasts?”
Kristjan just nodded, and Ben went on, “Do you remember what I said about being confident that you just haven’t found the right person yet to match your personality?”
‘The right person after Jokull.’ Kristjan thought silently, even though he was certain that Ben knew what he was thinking. Still, Kristjan nodded. Ben smiled, “No jokes. And I should slap the shit out of you for even thinking I would. I’m happy for you bud. Truly.”
And even though Kristjan scoffed, the words from his friend meant the world. Privately he was wondering how Ben would feel about his relationship with David, and even though some might say it was nobody’s business, when friendships were involved, there would always be that concern. But before Kristjan could say anything remotely in thanks to his friend for easing his private tensions, Ben had seen something from behind him that attracted his attention. Ben hurriedly said, “Close your eyes.”
“Excuse me?” Fenris asked with his glass halfway to his lips.
“Just close your eyes!”
“Why would I…?”
“Oh for god's sake!” Ben rolled his eyes with open exasperation at his friend’s stubborn nature. “Will you just stop questioning me, trust me and close those bloodshot peepers of yours!?”
Kristjan shook his head and set his glass back down, muttering “Fuck’s sake…” But before he could indulge Ben, his eyes shot open once again and he exclaimed, “I swear to fucking god if I open my eyes and there's another carton of chap stick in front of me, I'm going to hold you down and wash your mouth out with cheap vodka!”
“Oy!” Ben exclaimed, holding his arms out at his sides. “What's with the threats of gratuitous violence, Hannibal Lecter!? Besides… I had them sent to your room…”
“What!?”
“Just close your eyes…!”
“Fine!” And close them he did, but he still said aloud, “I don’t know what game you’re fucking playing at but I swear…”
“Well FINE then ya jackass!” A familiar voice spoke up, a voice that practically set his blood aflame and pumping through his system at an accelerated rate. “If you don’t want to see me then I’ll just fly home!”
Kristjan’s eyes flew open and he turned around in his seat, and yes indeed, in case you hadn’t guessed, there stood David Shepherd and Max Burke, Max who had made his excuses to go pick David up at the airport while Ben kept Kristjan busy. Fenris stood up from his chair and wasted no time in grabbing David by the head and planted a deep, passionate kiss on his boyfriend whom he had not seen since this tour first began when a video call was not involved. Heads turned. Eyes stared. Max smiled and reached to give the back of his own head a light scratch while Ben shared a glance with him, and then at the two whose lip lock had yet to end.
“Surprise.” Ben said almost too casually.
Indeed, friends knew what friends needed most.
"Four years.”
The sun beat down on Rhodes, a Greek city steeped in history and tradition. Vast seascapes. Mountains that stretched to the heavens above, so tall that thousands of years ago the ancient Greeks would swear they touched the home of the gods themselves. Forests. Endless beaches, and traditional structures of Ottoman and Greek origin that had stood for untold centuries dotted this island and drew tourists all year round. And this weekend; drew the SCW Universe itself. The weather was as clear as could be, with nary a cloud in the sky above and the sun was warm and bright. And down below the heavens, walking in the waters of the Rodos Park Suites & Spa hotel?
None other than ‘the White Wolf’ Fenris. And yes - he WAS wearing one of those daring speedo swimsuits that he had made rather infamous in social media posts. There was no shame where this man was concerned. He strode through the gentle waters that the wind caused to lap at the bare flesh of his tanned legs.
“That's how long I've been involved in this sport ever since Daniel Morgan talked to me about a change of interests back in '18. I still remember him sitting across from me at that pub in London, surrounded by my brother and London Underground, and the man pointed out to me that I had accomplished everything in the world of Mixed Martial Arts that I could do at the time, how I dominated my weight classes like no other, so he asked me if I didn't think it was time to branch out and try dominating a different world altogether. That was four years ago, and with the exception of a few months break that I took to return home to Iceland and reevaluate myself and my goals, I see people looking past me and still thinking of me still as a rookie and not the experienced fighter that I know I am. How do I know?"
"Experience."
“I’ve been in the ring with a lot of men ever since I first came to SCW. There was a time where I could boast and say that I have faced just about every man on the roster and nine times out of ten, come out on top. A fact that I’m proud of, and some might have a laugh at my expense and say that with my ego, it doesn’t take much to make me proud.”
He shrugged with an air of indifference.
“I do not deny the fact that I have …”
He paused and looked up in thought before he settled on a definition that satisfied him and his description of himself.
“Self confidence. Three men in four years hold wins over me…"
He counted off his fingers and held up a hand.
"Austin James Mercer. Ben Jordan. And giving him the benefit of the doubt even though there was interference that helped him win, Jack Washington. So maybe I earned the right to be the cocky bastard that everyone accuses me of being. But in the last year SCW has had a flood of new talent arrive, and those who have stood tall and loyal seemed to have been either forgotten or swept aside to make room for the ‘new blood,’ whether or not that new blood fell to the ‘old guard’ when set against each other. I’ve faced a few of the new talent signed; JC. Supreme Machine. And… I can see the appeal of this new wave of men walking in and wanting to take over. Only when the chips were down, it was the so-called old guard who stood tall and proud. I faced Supreme Machine because he tried to do harm to my brother, and I don’t put up with that shit from anyone! Man OR monster! And JC? That was brought about for no other reason than because he and I have a shared history that predates wrestling. It’s like some unwritten rule that if two wrestlers were both involved in the MMA cage, then they have to set them against one another to see which one will stand tall.”
“Newsflash! It wasn’t the new blood that stood tall in either case. And now Supreme Machine is gone and JC is acting like my beating him was some huge insult to him as a man and as a fighter and is wanting a rematch even though he denied Supreme Machine the very same. Just look at the championship roster, at least the men’s side of things, and see who is standing tall. The veterans. The men who have been here the longest. ‘Bulldog’ Bill Barnhart may not be the champion right now, but he held that Roulette title for over five months and beat the shit out of anyone who tried to take it away from him! Washington wasted no time in taking the Internet title away from that upstart bitch Ken Davison. Kris Ryans was the last holder of the World Mixed tag titles, and the most important one? The World heavyweight Championship?”
Fenris approached the marble steps of the pool and walked up them, fully emerging from the waters and grabbed a towel from a lounge chair before he walked toward a patio illuminated by a golden amber ambience. The outdoor lounge of his own luxury room.
“That would be our good friend and someone who boasts some of the most experience on any roster - Mac Bane. A title he has held ever since December, a four month long reign and counting, turning away every challenger that they've thrown in his path. And I have no qualms in recognizing him for his accomplishments with that same championship I once held. I am not a man that gives away his respect easily or freely. Talent simply recognizes talent. I've been in the ring with him before. He hasn’t skipped anyone of his own free will, and he has put that gold on the line against everyone from Alex Jones to Jack Washington and so far, has walked away with his head held high and the dominant reign that he craved since his first attempt ended … shall we say, prematurely?”
Fenris leaned back on the seat of the sectional sofa of his hotel room’s patio. He reached over blindly and picked up the half-filled glass of Scotch and took a sip, his blue eyes never leaving the camera or those that would be watching his every move and listening to his every word.
“But for all credit I give the new talent walking in like they own the goddamn place, this isn’t about any wet-behind-the-ear rookies or guys who just showed up and are being given championship opportunities without having earned shit - mostly. All of this? It’s about one man. That very same man. You - Mac Bane. My oh my! What I wanted and what I got. It has been awhile since we last met in the ring, hasn't it? April of last year, right? You were just sick and tired of being put into the ring with losers like the Troll, so you asked for the best in the best you were given! Just you and me
"And now here we are, once again just the two of us. How did all of this begin Mac? It's not due to you having a lack of competition, Christ is anything but that! No, this time it's more in my corner. I will be the first to admit that things just have not been going the way that I would have liked over these past number of months. Not for the lack of success because – well…! But more so the benefits to that success, of which I have seen none. Nothing. And when I made it known I wanted Matthew Knox in the ring to prove he was grossly ahead of himself, Mark Cross decided that would be damn good time to get involved and steal my moment right out from under me
"Let me tell you something. You’ve changed, Mac. And for the better. You’ve grown as an athlete from the first time I met you, evolved perhaps. Matured. In some ways, you might say that you’ve changed and yet remain the same. Don't get me wrong. You were always good. But you have went from good, to someone that has taken the world championship and made it his own. I know things didn't work out for you the way you wanted in your first reign, so you did the smart thing. You bided your time, you waited for the first opportunity and you struck. And what do you know? To be the best, you beat one of the best in Alex Jones. But you did more than that. I seem to recall in your first run with the gold, you decided to choose to defend your championship in a title versus title match against the roulette champion Alex Jones. There were divisive feelings going into that match all around, but it wasn't the world champion who walked away with that win. Alex did, and not through luck. He is one of the best there is. So as I said, three months later you bided your time and you beat the man who beat you and took back what is yours."
He nodded knowingly with a wisp of a cocky smile.
"Far cry from the days you were running around, competing for wrestling's equivalent of a sideshow championship. And I'm sorry if that offends anybody .. wait, I'm not really. I've never understood the appeal of that championship. I do not understand even the point behind it aside from risking the welfare of the participants’s welfare or merely seeing if they are capable of adapting to change. I've never had a desire to hold that title myself, it's why I've never made an attempt or campaigned for a shot. Can I fight? I’ve proven that time and again in both SCW and EliteXL. I’ve fought inside of cages in both, and met some opponents who have made me bleed and broken my bones and yet I fought on! I persevered - I. Won! My past is evidence enough to that answer, but I'm not going to go and mangle my body with barbed wire just to prove a point! I'm a wrestler. I'm a fighter. Climbing a ladder the quickest to reach a briefcase or anything ridiculous like that, does not prove to anyone who is the better athlete. You do that simply by getting inside the ring with our opponent and fighting until one of you can not continue and ends up battered and beaten. Not barbed wire, not climbing a ladder, and sure as shit not by wallowing it in the mud like a Goddamn hog!"
"Big difference, isn't it? Going from that embarrassing scenario, right straight up to the main event competing for the best, against the best! And while your first run did not go the way that you wanted, you more than made up for it this time around. I know that you wanted your first run to be dominant, but Alex Jones is the type of man that can ruin the best of hopes and plans. But I'd say you have more than made up for it, beating the likes of Austin James Mercer, Senor Vinnie and Supreme Machine!”
“But respect aside, these past few weeks I have to admit that I just don’t understand you or some of the decisions that you have made. There was a time when I was going through hell protecting my family and it was you who offered to stand by my side and watch my back against the Good Shepherds. To this day that offer still brings about a feeling of surprise because it was unexpected. YOU - were unexpected! But you did it. You offered to stand beside me simply because we had earned the respect of the other by doing to each other what we do best; beat the shit out of one another! But lately…?”
He shook his head, a frown creasing his brow.
“I don’t know if it’s for the sake of the championship or this Saviors brotherhood that you have surrounded yourself with, but things have become, I suppose complicated might be the best way to phrase things where you are concerned without offending. I remember a time when you would have taken the head clean off of any man that so much as looked at your wife wrong, but two weeks ago when Ken Davison acted every bit the pussy and hit your wife with a spine buster - you did - NOTHING! You’ve seen what I was like when Mercer attacked Aron. If someone hurts someone that I love, I won’t care if they are a friend or family! I would chew them up and spit them out until there was not enough left to fit in a can of cat food! So, what happened? Why stand by the side of your ‘brother’ rather than your wife? Oh well…”
He shrugged.
“None of my business, I suppose. What is my business is the fact that we are here, and why we are here. This may come as something of a surprise to you, but when you picked Knox as your challenger for Athens, I was one of the ones that was not happy with the decision. And even though I am still not thrilled, you owe my brother a fruit basket because he is the one that talked me down and kept me from making more noise than I already had! My next order of business was going to be Knox, but no. Cross had to jump into the spotlight to maintain his own egomaniacal need for attention. So, they offered me you instead.”
“Rough luck, hm? I’m going to show you, and the world around the both of us, exactly why it was the smartest decision you could have made by not choosing me. Not because I planned to or wanted to hurt you. Not because I had lost any respect for you because nothing could be further from the truth! It is simply because this night is going to serve as a simple reminder of what happened the last time we met. I won. And you can thank the Norn that the higher-ups opted to keep your title from being at stake, thus maintaining the much hyped match between Knox and yourself.”
“Now for all of the noise that I’ve made over what I felt - KNEW - that I deserved, I’ve had a handful ask me why I never took the next best step and targeted the Internet Championship. Reason is simple enough. In my mind? The World title, and only the World Heavyweight Championship matters to me. Everything else? It is a runner up prize for those that could not capture the big one so they settle for second best. Everyone who knows me from friend and enemy alike, recognizes me for what I am and what I want - competition. That is the one thing that matters the most to a sadist such as myself. But I’ve been ignored. Booked only when the mood strikes the matchmakers and where I used to headline as the main event, I now serve as a glorified spot filler. A man who is used to the best and being the best can only take so much of that until it is time to bring about the end.”
“For the longest time, I was telling the world that I did not need the World Heavyweight Championship. I meant it. Every word. Until those in power acted as if I was just an afterthought. That is when I decided that I was no longer going to sit around on my ass and wait for the higher authorities to treat me how I deserved to be or give me what I deserve. I was simply going to stand up and TAKE it! They can only ignore me for so long before it is no longer an option. And you, Mac? You’re the key. They offered you up as a consolation prize for me when they gave away my match against Knox. I wanted to prove to the world that Knox did not belong in the same ring as you, but again, you have Aron to thank for talking some sense into me. Because if anything would be better than facing and beating the Raven, it would be another chance to face you inside of the ring. Facing the World Champion, title or no, and the opportunity to beat him?”
He nodded.
“Yes. I would say that is a vast step up from Knox. Where a win against him would prove he didn’t deserve a match against you, a win against you would prove to anyone and everyone that I did deserve a shot at the world title! You said I did…”
His hand wrapped around the glass of liquor, he raised said hand and extended a finger toward the camera for emphasis.
“Knox even acknowledged the fact! So no disrespect intended. Everything between us from talks to respect remains the same as far as I’m concerned. But there is too much at stake here for me this time around, mac. This isn’t like the last time we faced each other. This time there are actual odds. And after I win, nobody will be able to deny, even if they want to, that I am owed a shot at the SCW World heavyweight Championship!”
He slams back the drink and slaps the glass down onto the table, and the camera ends its feed.
