The door to the arena in Chicago, Illinois opens up and in walks Chris Extreme, wearing the same old worn down, tattered clothes he has been wearing for weeks; complete with a steel chair wrapped around his skull -- the same chair Corey Page had blasted across his head. Stumbling inside, holding a bottle of liquor in his left hand, Chris topples over the doorstep, falling on his face, smashing the bottle onto the ground, sending its remnants pouring everywhere.

Standing up, he brushes himself off, hiccups, and walks forward, leaving his broken bottle behind, which is probably for the best, since his hand is all cut-up from the broken glass.

Chris Extreme walks through the empty corridors, wondering where the hell everyone is located, finally coming upon the realization that they must be in the actual event area of the arena. He shouts at the top of his lungs, while perousing through the hallways, "Where the fuck are these motherfuckers? I have a team to captain!"

Headed towards the entrance area, Chris nearly trips over the steps to get to the area behind the curtain. He stands in wait, listening for his music to play...

"Play my f'n music!"

Nothing.

"Uh..."

He turns around, expecting to see someone turn his theme on, but there is no one there, except for some empty air. Shrugging his shoulders, he groans out loud, "Where the fuck are those guys?! They are so gonna be fired when I cripple Corey Page and take over this damn shithole." Tired of waiting, Chris finally decides to make his entrance, via bursting through the black curtains, standing atop the entrance. He hiccups, "Where the fuck is everyone?"

The camera pans out, showing an empty arena, ring, announcing booth... and empty everything.

Chris stands alone at the top of the entrance, his arms raised above his head, forcing the chair wrapped around his neck to stick upwards... kind of like an erect penis. He has no idea what to do; nor does he have an idea where anyone is.

"Uhm... where the hell is everyone? Is this another one of those Jewish conspiracies that Mel Gibson warned us about?!" he asks out loud.

"Boy, do you know where you are," speaks an indiscernable voice coming from Chris' right, "you look lost."

"I know where I am... I am the event for "The Countdown"," responds Chris, "and I'm here to rally my troops."

"Son, you've got to be kidding me, that show has been over for at least the past 3 hours. Everyone's gone home." speaks the shadowy figure, who walks out of the darkness, wearing a pair of grey overalls and holding a plunger and a broom.

"AHHHHHHHHHH YOU'RE BLACK!" shouts Chris Extreme, who quickly turns around, scared to be alone with a person who has darker skin than him. Unfortunately, he smacks into a steel girder, knocking himself senseless. That's the price you pay when you're piss-drunk.

10, 20... maybe 30 minutes have passed...

Blink.

Blink.

Chris Extreme's two eyes slowly pry open, revealing a man with darker skin hovering over him, checking to see if he's alright.

"Am... am... am I dead? Are you Satan?" Chris inquires.

"No," speaks the man, "my name is Aleister. I'm the janitor 'round these parts. And you're way, way, waaayyyy late. Boy, were those wrestler guys peeved at you."

"Hey, I was busy..." Chris tells the janitor, otherwise known as Aleister, "I had things to do."

Looking at the pieces of glass sticking out of Chris' arm, realizing it's from a liquor bottle, Aleister rolls his eyes and nods his head, "Yes, I'm sure. Now let me patch that all up," Aleister points to the blood trickling down Chris' hands, "First, we'll start by taking this off."

Aiming at the chair wrapped around Chris' neck, Aleister places both hands on it and goes to lift it off, but Chris responds like a rabid dog, growling and shoo'ing Aleistery away.

Surprised, Aleister exlaims, "Fine, fine! Sheesh, boy, you need to calm your ass down."

Aleister, who honestly looks like Martin Luther King Jr. reincarnated, steps away from Chris, who sits up, rubbing the back of his head. Instead, he focuses on removing the green pieces of glass from Chris' skin. He chuckles, "I can't believe you missed tonight's event. It was quite the show."

"Ugh, without me here, I'm sure it was," Chris sarcastically states.

"No, I'm serious. Granted there were some slow spots, but still."

"Slow spots, eh? Probably every time that bastard, Corey Page, showed his face on camera. I knew I should have killed him. If only could build a time machine..."

"Negro, what? Kill him? I... uh...," Aleister backs away a little, not knowing how to follow that up, "I didn't know you tried to kill someone!"

Darting his eyes back-and-forth, hoping to avoid suspicion, Chris shakes his head -- no. "Uh... I'm just kiddin'... negro."

Being kind to this dark-skinned man was something Chris found hard to do, but he tried. How else would he get this glass out of his arm/hand? He doesn't go to doctors, as he believes they are all Asians; and seeing as how his reaction last week to an Asian was broadcasted worldwide, he did not think it'd be a swell idea.

Unfortunately, as each shard of glass was plucked out from his skin, he begins to become more-and-more curious as to tonight's events...

"So wait, what did happen tonight?"

"Eh, boy, you shoulda showed up to find out."

"No, really, tell me," an agitated Chris Extreme responds.

Reluctantly, Aleister agrees, "Alright... but right after this commercial break."

Stunned, Chris replies, "Commercial break? What the Jesus?"

Aleister sighs, grabs his broom and breaks it over Chris' skull.

"Yes, a commercial break."

Nudged awake by Janitor Aleister, a groggy Chris Extreme slowly returns to the waking world, not knowing what just happened. His eyes are glazed, his face is pale and his chair... is... well... his chair is still wrapped around his neck.

"What the fuck just occured?!" demands Chris Extreme.

"Nothing, you blacked-out again," Aleister retorts.

"Blacked-out? God, I hate those fucking blacks," a rather angsty Chris Extreme responds. Immediately, Aleister gives him a harsh glare. "Sorry, but I do," reinforces Chris.

Meanwhile, Aleister walks out of the room, prompting Chris to wonder what it is he is doing. When he returns he is wheeling a trolley with a television monitor on it, complete with VCR, tape, etc.

"A VCR? What year is this? 1988?" quips Chris, forcing Aleister to shush him up.

"Shush, boy. It's tonight's event."

"I can't believe someone records this shit... hell, I'm surprised that someone actually watches this garbage. When I win this goddamn company, I am burning it to the ground."

To that, Aleister responds, "I really think you should watch this."

"Fine," speaks Chris, "but make it quick. I've got places to go, coke to snort and sluts to fuck."

"...Even with that chair around your neck?"

"...Yes."

"Eh, good enough," Aleister articulates, paying no mind to Chris Extreme, as he pops a tape into the VCR. Plucking a remote out from his overalls, he begins to rewind it, setting the tape at the beginning of tonight's show.

"So, you just carry a remote around everywhere you go?" asks Chris.

"Of course!"

"Well, that's good; because I carry a Swastika everywhere I go." From out of his tights, Chris pulls out a black and red Swastika, kisses it and hugs it. In fact, he even starts to lovingly caress it, disturbing Aleister.

"My God. Put that away. Look, the tape is starting..."

Finally pressing "play", Aleister starts the show from the end of the video introduction, which includes a "...5...4...3...2...1...". Popping his left eyebrow up, Chris asks Aleister for some popcorn, which Aleister ignores. Nevertheless, they watch the first match, Flame vs. Draven unfold.

"Oh boy, this is going to be a great match! sarcastically spouts Chris Extreme, taking a page out of Steve Hebert's book.

Deciding to fast-forward through the mat, Aleister listens as Chris joyously proclaims his thankfulness.

"Please do this for the entire show."

---

Flame vs. Draven ...

...

On the top rope, Draven measures Flame up, after rolling him back inside of the ring. He hopes to dive off, hitting a flying somersault senton bomb, but Flame has other plans.

Just as Draven leaps off, somersaulting his body through the air, Flame rolls towards the corner, allowing Draven to land harshly on his back. Ironically enough, both men spring to their feet, Draven shrugging off the bad landing, and charges at Flame, who decides to swing a clothesline at his opponent.

Ducking beneath Flame's arm, Draven leaps onto the middle turnbuckle and leaps back, landing on Flame's shoulders, trying for a huracanrana. Needless to say, Flame overpowers Draven, slams him back down with a stunning powerbomb, keeps his hold locked on and lifts Draven back up onto his shoulders in a powerbomb position. From here, Flame quickly slides Draven over into a Death Valley Driver position and brings him down to the mat with a Flame Bomb.

He covers Draven...

...1...2...3!

Afterwards, Flame casually walks to the back, ready for his Lust Title shot at Illusions.

---

"Holy fucking shit! Flame won?! What the fuck did I just watch?!" states Chris, while rubbing his eyes, trying to figure out what's going on. "There's no way in hell that guy just won a match. I mean... it's Flame!"

"Yes, and that's just a tiny portion of what you missed."

"Wait... was he on my team?" Chris asks.

"Nope!" quickly responds Aleister.

"Oh, fuck you, Flame!"

"But before I continue, we must go to another commercial break," exudes Aleister.

Again, Chris has no idea what Aleister means, as he frantically looks around the room, looking for a video camera. "What the..."

Bam!

This time, Aleister strikes Chris with a shoe.

"Two minutes..."

---

Dan Black is seen looking at the camera, sitting in a chair with a beer in hand. He takes a drink from the can, then smirks as he once again looks into the camera.

Dan Black: I’m Dan Black, and today I make my debut. Now I bet most of you are wondering why I don’t have some interviewer here asking me questions designed to make me popular, and why I haven’t made sure to make myself look all tough before letting you see me.

He throws the beer can into the garbage can and stands up cracking his knuckles before continuing.

Dan Black: It's all very simple. I don’t need someone to tell me what to say and when. I’m here to make an impact, and I’ll start by beating Adrian Dreamer, who, as I’m told, is another newcomer. Well, that’s alright, I’ll work my way up to the main players here. And as for why I didn’t take better care of my appearance... I don’t let my looks leave an impression; I let my actions. So, if you want to see what I’m all about, I suggest you watch me in the ring.

He laughs and walks out the door and the screen fades to black.

---

"Ugh..." speaks Chris, who awakens, rubbing his head, "Who keeps doing that?" He notices the person on the monitor. "And who the fuck is that guy?"

With a smirk, Aleister responds, showing a teethy grin, "Why, that's Dan Black."

"Dan Black? What a terrible last name."

"I knew you'd say that."

"Fuck you. Did you know I'd say that?!" an angry Chris replies.

"Actually, Dan Black is an up-and-coming Sin Wrestling star. You should know this. In fact, he's debut match is up next. He's against Adrian Dreamer, who's also debuting," Aleister tells Chris.

"Great. The darkie vs. the homo."

---

Dan Black vs. Adrian Dreamer ...

...

Adrian Dreamer tries to use his speed to his advantage, connecting with a dropkick to Dan Black's right knee, dropping him down onto his left. Rising back up, Adrian bounces off the nearest set of ropes and storms back, looking to hit a Shining Wizard knee to the face, but to no avail; as Dan Black ducks beneath the attempt.

Despite that, Adrian Dreamer continues forward, bouncing off the opposite set of ropes. As he storms back, he is caught by Dan Black, who sidewalks slams him, dropping Dreamer onto his back.

Taking advantage of this reversal, Dan Black hops back to his feet, knees Dreamer upside his head and pulls him into a standing headscissors. Without delay, Dan Black hoists Dreamer up into a powerbomb position -- unfortunately the damage done to Dan Black's knee comes into play.

Wobbling back, Dan accidentally drops Dreamer, who lands on his feet and hopes to capitalize on this incident. He bounces himself off the ropes and comes back with a crossbody attempt. Unfortunately, though, Dan Black catches him and drives him back down to the mat with a powerslam.

Leaping back up, shrugging off the damage to his knee, Dan Black again applies a standing headscissors and hoists Adrian into the air. Seconds later, he has Adrian Dreamer plastered into the mat with The Hospitalizer powerbomb. Keeping his feet over Dreamer's shoulders, he gets the cover...

...1...2...3!

With the three being made, Dan Black stands to his feet, has his arm lifted into the air, in victory, while Adrian Dreamer lays on his back, unaware of what just occured.

---

"Dan Black wins. So what? This doesn't affect my match!" shouts an annoyed Chris Extreme, who wants Aleister to fast-forward further through the event.

"True. But this does have an affect...," proclaims Aleister, who fast-forwards to the next scene, catching Chris' attention.

The image shown is that of Trent Turner being beaten down by Billy Badson. This is before Turner's match with Regan Chambers, and it involves Billy wielding a chair, while having his Purity Title strapped around his waist. Over and over again, he slams the chair down into Turner's spine, eventually dropping it and then hunching over, grabbing Trent's hair and lifting him to his feet.

With gusto, Billy drags Trent towards the entrance area, slugs him with a right hand, and knocks him through the black curtain, forcing him to trip and fall at the entrance. The fans rise to their feet as they watch Billy drag Trent towards the ringside area and roll him into the ring, where a returning Regan Chambers is already waiting.

"Oh Christ. I hate old people," furiously shouts Chris Extreme, who stares at the screen, wanting Trent Turner to pull out a victory for his team. "This can't goddamn happen!"

"Oh, but it did, and you weren't here to stop it."

"Son of a Jew! What happens?!"

Aleister the Janitor listens to Chris' request and fast-forwards through the match, watching as Stryker Graff charges to the ringside area.

"The match was a no-contest," Aleister tells Chris, "that guy -- Stryker Graff -- interfered. Trent Turner laid on the floor, unable to continue, while Stryker Graff attacked Regan on the floor, thereby causing a double countout. No team gets a point."

"Well, as long as Corey Page doesn't get a point, I'm happy."

"It also means you have yet to score a point for your team. Not only that, but Trent Turner is now out of Sin Wrestling, thanks to the beatdown by Billy Badson."

"Haha, liar. Everyone knows old people can't do shit."

"Hey, you saw what happened," Aleister tells Chris.

"Bah! So, what about Badson's Purity Title match at Illusions? He was supposed to face Turner. Now what? I guess that old geezer will have the night off. What a bastard."

Upon hearing that, Aleister chuckles, fast-forwards and then pauses. "Maybe we should go to another commercial first."

"What?! No!"

"These commercials are ridiculous!" Chris Extreme bellows.

"We're back...!"

"Thank fuck."

Aleister continues, "And we're ready to show Corey Page's announcement."

"Announcement?! He can't make an announcement! Not without me! This is my shit! My turf! My preciousssss...," Aleister eyes Chris suspiciously, shrugs his shoulders and rolls the tape.

---

The camera changes to the backstage area, where Corey Page is shown standing in front of a Sin Wrestling logo. He is succinct and straight-to-the-point is getting his message across.

Corey Page: I'd like to start off by saying that Chris Extreme is not here yet. I have no idea where he is -- maybe he's dead, passed out in a gutter somewhere, hopefully. I do know that because of the match we just witnessed, there's a chance we may have an even outcome of tonight's team scoring.

Corey listens to the fans in attendance.

Corey Page: As a result, we may have a dillemma on our hands. If, by the end of the night, scoring is even, and Chris Extreme is not here, then I will be forced to pick the stipulation to our match.

The fans in attendance cheer once they hear that news.

Corey Page: Furthermore, Trent Turner is out. He has been rushed to the hospital -- unable to continue the match and unable to fight for the Purity Title at Illusions. Therefore, I am going to tinker with the match Chris Extreme created at Shadows of Defeat.

Everyone listens closely.

Corey Page: Remember that Shane Donovan/Nikita match Mike Phantasy suckered him into making -- yes, I said it; Chris Extreme, that idiot, was suckered into it. Well, the winner of that match will move on to face Billy Badson for the Purity Title. That match won't happen at another card, no. It'll happen later in the night!

Corey clears his throat.

Corey Page: So, in summary: Chris Extreme is not here, he's probably dead or something; if the scoring is even, I'll pick the stipulations to our match; and Nikita and Shane Donovan will face each other for the number one contendership to the Purity Title... and that match will occur later in the evening. Oh, and don't forget to dress up -- I mean, it's Halloween for Christ's sake!

Corey now gives a thumbs-up sign.

Corey Page: Finally, Chris Extreme still fucking sucks shit. Eat my cock, you bastard.

With a scowl, Corey Page turns off the camera and the action resumes.

---

Not liking what he just watched, Chris Extreme stands tearing the bandage on his arm off in disgust. "He can't fucking do that! How dare he! I'm supposed to make the rules around here; not him! I'll kill him! I'll run him over! I'll destroy him... I'll..."

"Shit, son, you're bleeding all over my new carpet!" Aleister screams at Chris, telling him to sit still.

"Fuck you! He can't do this... I will murder him... I will... wait, you live in this janitor's closet?"

"Hell fuckin' yeah, now sit your ass down," exclaims Aleister, who excitedely pushes Chris down. "Watch what else happens."

---

Snoop Jackson vs. Vincent Kane ...

...

Absolutely destroying Snoop Jackson, Vincent Kane batters him with a series of knees and forearms, sending Snoop into the corner, where he is unable to escape from more punishment.

Whipping Snoop across the ring, Vincent storms in, driving a running fist into Snoop's skull, steps back and watches as Snoop crumbles to the mat, sitting on his rear-end, in the corner. Going into the opposite corner, Vincent Kane soon rushes out, smashing a running knee into Snoop's face, squashing his head against the bottom turnbuckle pad.

Furthermore, Vincent lifts Snoop up, throws him chest-first into the corner; and as he stumbles out, Vincent waistlocks him and heaves him across the ring with a release German suplex. Flipping through the air, Snoop has no other choice but to land on his front, crashing down hard on his face. Realizing this, Vincent crawls over to Snoop and applies the "Where It Ends".

In a matter of seconds, Snoop Jackson is furiously tapping out, allowing Vincent Kane to continue his unbeaten streak and to earn a victory for Team Extreme. As he is handed his Lust Title, Vincent Kane holds it into the air, while a mysterious black-suited man steps out at the entrance, holding a briefcase in his hand.

When Vincent finally realizes this mysterious person, he turns his attention towards the entranceway, watching as the man laughs in a cocky-manner. He's about to exit the ring, when Snoop Jackson rises to his feet, feeling upset about his loss.

From behind, Snoop axehandles Vincent Kane and goes to whip him across the ring. Not liking this idea one bit, Vincent reverses the whip and decides to spinning back-fist Snoop, knocking him on his back. With Snoop dispersed, Vincent looks towards the entranceway, only to see that the mysterious man has disappeared behind the curtain.

Hopping out of the ring, Vincent hurriedly rushes to the back, while Snoop rolls out of the ring, holding his face.

---

Using his right hand, Aleister hushes Chris Extreme.

---

Vincent Kane returns to the back, holding his title, looking for the man that just made an appearance. He rushes past several security guards and referees, questioning them.

Vincent Kane: Where is he? Did you bring him? Did you?!

Soon enough, Vincent Kane bumps into his opponent for Lust, Flame.

Flame: Vincent Kane, I hope you're ready for our bout at Illusions. I know I am.

In his hands, Flame flickers a lighter, sending tiny sparks out from his hands.

Vincent Kane: I'm not in the mood to listen to you now. ...Did you bring him?

Smiling, Flame looks at Vincent Kane.

Flame: Bring who?

Vincent Kane: I think you know who...

Flame and Vincent Kane come face-to-face.

Flame: No, I don't.

While Flame and Vincent nearly come to blows, Snoop Jackson returns to the backstage area, holding his face. As he goes to walk to his locker-room, he overhears the arguing between Vincent Kane and Flame.

Vincent Kane: If you think you're being funny, you're not.

Flame: You "f" with fire and you'll get burnt, Kane. Don't accuse me of anything.

Vincent Kane: Yeah... right...

When the Lust Champion pulls away, Flame brings his arm up...

Flame: I may not know who you're talking about, but I did bring this...

Immediately, Flame cocks his arm back and throws it forward, unleashing a fireball in Vincent Kane's direction. Aware and ready, Vincent Kane ducks and runs, allowing the fireball to blow over him. Unfortunately for Snoop Jackson, he arrives just in time to get a face-full of fire.

Snoop Jackson: Aaaauuughhhhhh!

Collapsing to the ground, Snoop holds his face and is then surrounded by a flurry of officials, who also get in between Vincent Kane and Flame.

Vincent Kane: If I find out that it was you who brought him here, you're a dead man.

The scene fades out, showing the commotion in the backstage.

---

"What's wrong with you?" asks Aleister.

"I missed a fried negro! I can't believe it," a gloomy Chris Extreme pouts.

"At least your team got a win."

Perking up, he smiles, "You're right! That's true! Phew. You're the best janitor, ever, Aleister." "Very true. Now, before we continue, we must go to our final commercial break," speaks Aleister, who pauses the tape.

"You've got to be kidding me. First of all, I don't see any cameras; second of all, you take more breaks than 'LOST'"

"Grrr, I said it's break-time."

"Fine. My Jesus, this is awful," Chris lays on his back, waiting for the final commercial break to end.

"Back yet?" Chris inquires.

"No."

"Now?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No, we're not."

"....Now?"

"No."

"How about..."

"We're back!" anticipates Aleister.

"'bout time," Chris answers.

" We have 2 more matches left. Up first is Billy Badson and Shane Donovan. As you should know, Billy is on Corey's team, and Shane is on your team." "Man, if Shane doesn't cripple that old bag, I'll have to cripple Shane."

"You'll see what happens..." Aleister explains to Chris.

---

Billy Badson vs. Shane Donovan ...

...

Both men lay in the ring, tired and worn out from putting on a pretty decent match with each other. The first up is the younger and less worn-down Shane Donovan, who immediately takes advantage of Billy Badson's downed position.

Plucking Billy to his feet, Shane hoists him up into a vertical suplex, only to have Billy slip out and land behind him. From behind, Billy wraps both arms around Shane's waist, pushes him against the ropes and tries to roll back with a schoolboy rollup, which he successfully performs. The referee starts his count...

...1...2...

Shane kicks out, shoving Billy off him. As a result, Shane kicks Billy up against the ropes, forcing him to stumble back, allowing Shane to roll Billy up with a schoolboy of his own. Pressing all of his weight down onto Billy's legs, Shane holds him down, while the referee counts...

...1...2...3!

Shocked, Billy kicks out after the three, which is obviously not good enough. Because the title was not on the line, Billy keeps the Purity Title, which he is handed, despite his confused expression.

Up on his own two feet, Shane celebrates his victory, watching over Billy, who rolls out of the ring, not quite sure about what just happened. Nevertheless, Shane has his arm raised, perhaps foreshadowing his Illusions match, if he can only get past Nikita and then face Billy once more.

---

"Hmmm?"

"Nothing, nothing; just watch the tape."

---

Destiny Daniels/Nikita vs. Stryker Graff/Xander Gates ...

...

In the ring, Nikita and Destiny Daniels, the Tag Team Champions, are shown squaring off, getting in each other's face, while Xander Gates is slowly crawling to his corner... which, ironically, is empty.

Brawling into the crowd, Stryker Graff has lost his focus on the match, and is now slugging it out with Regan Chambers, near the back of the arena. In fact, Regan Chambers has backdropped Stryker Graff into the penalty box of the hockey arena, keeping him trapped in there with some stomps and kicks after diving off the boards onto him.

Not able to get along, much like the entire portion of the match, Destiny and Nikita start shoving each other, having Destiny eventually hammer Nikita with a side kick, knocking her out of the ring, thus leaving Destiny and Xander inside.

Now aware that Stryker Graff is nowhere to be found, Xander Gates turns around, seeing Destiny's back turned. Rolling in, he catches her from behind with a rollup...

...1...2...

However, at the count of two, Destiny is able to safely roll out of the pinfall attempt, and transitions it into The Cottonmouth, which she forcefully locks onto a bloody Xander. Gates. Knowing that he doesn't want to suffer any ligament damage going into his World Title match, Xander quickly taps out, ending the match, allowing for the odd team of Destiny and Nikita to win the match and retain their titles.

On the floor, Nikita looks on, an air of disdain on her face, while Destiny is handed her titles. Watching as Destiny is given the World Title, Xander pops up, fixes his arm/shoulder region and pounces on the World Champ, catching her from behind with a Blue Thunder Bomb.

Destiny's tag partner, Nikita, disgusted with Destiny, offers no aide in assisting her and opts to casually walk to the back, while Xander leaps to his feet and commences stomping the World Champ. After lifting Destiny up, he drives her back down with the "X Marks the Spot", rolls out of the ring, grabs the World Title shot contract and a pen, slides inside with it and uses the pen to start jabbing into Destiny's forehead.

Seconds later, blood trickles out of Destiny's skull and onto the mat. Taking the pen, Xander swabs it in her blood and signs the contract, finalizing his World Title shot -- his first in over 2 years.

Spitting on Destiny, he soon drops the contract at Destiny's bloody head and walks to the back, listening to the jeers from the fans.

---

"I... I... lost. This can't happen! No! I'm supposed to make the match! I was going to have an Auschwitz Prison match... complete with a barbed-wire and wooden cage... and blood... and weapons! Now, I'll probably be forced to wrestle in a bloody teddy bear and goats match. I don't want no goats, Aleister! I hate goats!" blathers Chris, who whines over-and-over again.

"Hey, the show isn't over yet...," Aleister reminds Chris, who continues to bitch and moan.

"I don't care...!"

"You probably should," says Aleister, who tries to perk Chris up.

---

Again, the image of Corey Page is on the screen.

Corey Page: Chris Extreme isn't here, so I guess I get to choose the match, hey?

The fans respond with joy. In response, Corey grabs a sheet of paper and writes the type of match down on it.

Corey Page: If Chris Extreme ever arrives, it'll be right here waiting for him.

He grabs the pen and starts writing...

Corey Page: Without further...furt...fur...furt...furth...

The tape stalls...

---

"You've got to be friggin' kidding me. I can't wait for this..." Chris pushes his way past Aleister, nearly toppling him over. Just as Chris bursts through the door, Aleister turns off the machine and smirks ominously. He walks over to his thermometer and turns down the heat, listening as Chris makes his way towards Corey Page's office.

Arrival is made and Chris goes through everything, looking for the note. Finding it, he picks it up, his eyes beaming at what's written on it...

Finished reading it, Chris Extreme drops the note, stands back, finally realizing that the hell he wanted is already here.