The scene fades in to see Nick Jones standing backstage, watching a monitor which seems to just be concluded the airing of the most recent promo by Jones' upcoming tag team partner, Bruce Evans. Nick is watching as Bruce makes his not so fond opinions on Nick quite clear, and as Bruce seemingly gets more frustrated, the smark across Nick's face seems to grow even larger. As the promo ends, Nick switches off the TV and turns to walk away. However, before he can get very far, he is intercepted by SCW interview Pussy Willow, armed with a microphone.
Pussy: Nick, I saw you were just watching the promo of your upcoming tag team partner, Blaque Hart Bruce Evans. Can I get your thoughts on him, and your upcoming match?
Nick: Well I have to be honest, I saw Bruce's promo from last week, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had every intention of letting that fool know what the deal really was around here, since he obviously had no clue, but before I even had a chance to do that, I got to see this most recent gem. And as much as his first rant annoyed me with his pure idiocy, I couldn't help but laugh at this most recent nonsense of his. After that, I know better than to take anything this nutjob says seriously, because clearly he's got more than a few screws loose. Does he not know who the hell he's talking to? I'm a former GXW World Heavyweight Champion. What the hell has that clown ever won?
Pussy: Well Bruce is actually a former World Champion in ACF and SWO.
Nick: Oh, good for him, he won a so-called "World" title in some no-name crap companies nobody has ever heard of before. Yeah, I'm sure he had to beat some real winners in order to earn those tin foil belts. Meanwhile, I was a little too busy in the top company in the world, beating the best in the business or at least, the best there were before I showed up and becoming a true World Champion. You those names who show up on the bottom of all of your paychecks? Those couple of guys who everyone around here holds up on such a high level? Yeah, they were wrestling in that very same organization. You know, working the under card while I was main eventing and reigning on as World Champion.
Pussy: I'm not sure if that's...
Nick: Listen, the point is simple. I don't need this clown for anything, but for him to stay out of his way. They could make this match three on one and I'd still win it. I don't care if Bruce wants to team up with... those two clowns I'm facing... what the hell are their names again?
Pussy: Sean Williams and Wyatt Peterson.
Nick: Yeah, them... whatever. Anyway, what the hell have either of those clowns ever won?
Pussy: Well actually...
Nick puts his hand right up to the face of Pussy, who immediately stops talking.
Nick: I'm sorry, let me stop you right there. That was a rhetorical question. You seem to be under the misguided perception that I actually give a shit. Well let me assure you, I do not, because I know one thing for certain... none of these three clowns are the greatest World Heavyweight Champion in all of professional wrestling history. Because that one and only man stands before you right now. That silly canadian was just lucky enough to draw me as his partner and ride my coattails to inevitable victory. So listen sweetheart, why don't you keep an eye out on that ring, and see how it's really done because tonight will just be the beginning of my run to the very first of many gold belts that will be draped around this waste, one by one until I'm the only champion left in this company. Ole Brucey boy can just thank the stars that he's the lucky dipshit who gets to stand on the ring apron and watch me win the titles for the both of us. Now he just needs to stay out of my way long enough to not screw this whole thing up, and we'll be just fine.
Nick pushes the microphone out of his face and gives Pussy a quick slap on the backside. She is clearly caught offguard and gives Nick a rather unhappy glance as he just smirks at her and walks away as the scene fades to black.
