Alexander Remington [vs.] Alexander Raven

Let the One Millionth chapter in this legendary feud be written!!!!!!!!!!

Off Camera
October, 2012

He was pacing back and forth throughout his downstairs study, not understanding fully what he had gotten himself into. He had promised the man a favor, but at the time, he had no idea that this would be the type of favor that he would be expecting from him. Alex sighed to himself as he looked at the photographs of the man on his desk. Oddly enough, he looked familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on the reasoning for this familiarity.

Alexander Remington: Shit Alex, what did you get yourself involved in this time?

He had explored all variables about this man; known aliases, places he had recently been seen, but it was all too confusing for Alex. It had been a long time since he had been involved with 'the game' so to speak. He had rid himself of this lifestyle long ago, choosing to sit behind the comforts of a desk, and then finally satisfy his desire for battle and competition through the form of wrestling. But of course, at the most inopportune time, Eric Telfor would arrive and change all of that, asking him to assassinate a man that he knew seemingly nothing about. It was becoming quite the headache, as one might imagine, for a man that had been away from all of this for far too long to even be considered a viable candidate for this kind of job.

So why in the hell would Eric Telfor, knowing all of this, use his favor and ask Remington to complete a job he was no longer suited for? Even when he was working for the government, he never was asked to assassinate anyone. Just hunt people down and bring them to justice was all that he was given orders to do. Sure, some would die in the process, but only because of necessity in the situation; not because he was seeking someone out to murder them altogether.

Alexander Remington: I don't think I can do this...

Eric Telfor: Of course you can my dear boy. I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't think you were more than capable of this task.

Alexander Remington: No, I mean, I don't have the information I need to even find this guy in the first place. I used to be able to have access to all the databases I needed; access to whatever feeds and clearances I needed to track down my targets. I once had a team; men and women stationed around the world who would give me all the information I needed to perform whatever job I was given. Now, I'm left with these three photographs and we are the only two individuals that can know about this. I'll never get this job accomplished...

Eric Telfor: Then I suppose we have a breach of contract on our hands. How unfortunate - I was really hoping that you could complete this task. After all, it would show you that our lives are much more intertwined than you think.

Alexander Remington: What in the hell are you rambling about?

Eric Telfor: Ah, that is part of the fun of all of this, isn't it? The investigation. I didn't come to you by chance. Obviously I could have hired any man or woman on the inside for this job, because with a little bit of money, I've found that anybody can be influenced. I even bought you back in UECW. And to think, you were the one man that everyone swore didn't have a price, what with your influence and all. But you jumped quickly at my ten million, didn't you? I told you to fetch Kelly Fury for me, and you couldn't turn down the price tag. But I came to you for a reason.

Alexander Remington: And that reason is?

Eric Telfor: I will let you figure that out on your own. But I promise you that in the end, it will all be worth it. You'll see just what kind of things we can accomplish together. You'll see just why I've come to you for your help in this most unfortunate matter.

Alexander Remington: Let's get one thing straight you son of a bitch...

Alex lunged forward, grabbing the collar of Telfor's shirt, pulling him forward as he stared straight into his eyes, never blinking.

Alexander Remington: I complete this job for you, and we're never talking again. You've done a favor for me, helping me get back into this business, and now I'm doing you one. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but it's going to be done because I want you out of my life. Our lives, they're not intertwined. We're just two businessmen, and I happened to make a wrong decision in ever listening to you; that I'm sure of now. You can play all these riddles on someone else and get your kicks on someone of lesser importance, but you're not going to get one over on me.

Not intimidated in the least, Telfor cracked a smile as he stared back at Remington.

Eric Telfor: Ah right, master manipulator and all that rubbish. Alex, by the time all of this is over with, you are going to be begging to continue working with me. Now as far as your lack of information is concerned...

Eric smiled, glancing down at Remington's hands as they clutched his collar even tighter.

Eric Telfor: Do you mind?

Remington relented, releasing Telfor from his grasp. Eric cleared his throat, slowly reaching into his coat's pocket, pulling out what appeared to be nothing more than a simple flash drive.

Eric Telfor: All you had to do was ask...

To be continued...
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On Camera

Open with a black screen; "The End" by the Doors playing softly in the background as the crackling of a warm fire is heard in the distance. The blackness is soon dissolved, however, as a myriad of colors and shapes fill the picture, soon coming into view as a fairly luxurious office appears before our eyes; large glass windows at the back of the room overlooking the city; multiple skyscrapers filling the portrait nicely as the sun shines through the glass panes, illuminating the room. A large wooden desk sits just in front of the windows, covered in multiple stacks of loose sheets of paper; a couple of awards and trophies sitting on the front of the desk, but they were merely for decorative significance and nothing important that you, the reader, should concern yourself with. The true trophies and acknowledgments lay in the case just to the east of the desk, propped up against the wall as several championship belts and other various acknowledgments proudly were put on display. And to the left side of that were several shelves filled with various degrees of liquor and booze. And behind the desk sat Alexander Remington.

Much had been stated about his surprise defection from the Empire. Many had speculated the reasons why he would commit such a 'heinous' act, although to those who paid attention to any form of social media in the last couple of weeks, the mystery would have been solved, or at the very least, most of it would have been figured out already. But he hadn't been heard from since that moment. He was conspicuously absent from Pick Your Poison, not even showing himself at any of the prior engagements such as the various press conferences or autograph signings. Nothing. Not even a speech before a capacity crowd. Not even an explanation. Not even an acknowledgment. He was nowhere to be found, leaving the speculation wide open for the last couple of weeks to those who indeed live under a rock and to those who cared not about social media in any form.

Alexander, as you would expect, was dressed very business-like - his black suit made many wonder about his net worth as it was clearly worth quite a bit of money and everything about his appearance would strike jealousy in any lesser of a man. A nicely pressed navy blue shirt and solid white tie covered his chest, and, of course, in his right hand rested a half-glass of his favorite liquor which was likely worth more than half of your net-worths combined.

Alexander Remington: Treachery. Benjamin Franklin once stated that tricks and treachery are the practice of fools, that don't have brains enough to be honest. I've been called many things in my time, and to be quite honest, most of them are probably true. I've been called deceitful, selfish, manipulative, and everything else in the dictionary that would be applied to a less than desirable man, but a traitor I am not. I am a man of my word - sure, sometimes it may seem as though I twist my own words to fit my own personal meanings, but in the end, if you interpret what I say foolishly, that is your problem and certainly not mine. For the last couple of weeks, since the time that I seemingly turned my back on the Empire to save my friend in Griffin Hawkins, the Empire has run a smear campaign against me so vicious that you would think we were running for President of these United States. And while that one day may appeal to a man of my ilk, I assure you all, this country is not yet ready for four years of President Remington.

Alexander sat upright in his chair, as though he were giving a strong Presidential pose, clasping his hands together atop his newly polished wooden desk, staring straight ahead at the camera as though he were about to give a riveting speech on the state of the Union or deliver a message about a new war that he had established as Commander-In-Chief due to others having a different outlook on life than we do. But something didn't feel right. He unclasped his hands and straightened his tie, staring at the reflection of himself in the glass pane of the window behind him before striking the pose again, but still, it was off. He unclasped his hands once more, shrugging his shoulders as he reached for the one thing in the room he was comfortable with - his drink. Taking a refreshing swallow of his favorite beverage, he set the glass down once more and continued to speak.

Alexander Remington: After all, those in the Empire would want you to believe that their goal is noble. Their goal is just. Their endgame is that of improving Insurgency and taking it to the top of the wrestling universe once more. So of course the man that 'turned his back' on their cause must have been selfishly doing it for his own good and it could never simply be that he had a perfectly justifiable reason in doing so. No, for the short time that I was in the Empire, I believed in the things that Corey Casey set before me. He promised me wealth behind compare, unlimited power, and a name and a legacy that would be unmatched. He gave me a list of names of present and former greats in this company, and he promised me that by his side, I would become bigger than any of those men or women combined. Foolish me for listening to his venomous words! Foolish me for thinking that I needed anyone other than myself to accomplish those goals! Foolish me for thinking that just because a man like Corey Casey did me a solid in UECW in bringing the Dragon back home that he had my best interests at heart all along.

Alexander Remington: So I went along with his plans, and when he told me a name to take out, I did so, and I did so honestly believing that I was doing the right thing. Understand, I do not pretend to be a good man. I don't try to make you or anyone else believe that I have lived the life of Mother Theresa or Ghandi - I've done a lot of bad things in my life, and quite honestly, most of them I'm not even apologetic for. I am who I am and I've made peace with that. But I believed Corey Casey. And I did so despite the advice of some of my peers. But let's be fair, the one man that was telling me that I was making a mistake was Jason...Stygian rather. Stygian stated time and time again that Corey Casey could not be trusted; that Corey Casey was not a man that I should be doing business with, and I cast out his words as a lie. I presumed that he was only telling me these things because, as you certainly know by now, Stygian and I do not see most things eye to eye. He likes Dr. Who and I like, well, anything that isn't worshiped by the Virgins Anonymous clubs. He's a Scotch man; I'm a fine wine and Rum guy myself. I'm a one woman man and he's...well, you get the point. Opposite ends of the spectrum, and therefore, I had no reason to believe he was speaking the truth. But as it turns out, as much as it pains me to say it - Stygian, this time you were right.

A scowl formed over Alex's face as he was forced to actually admit that his arch-nemesis was actually correct about something, and that Alex himself was completely and utterly wrong about Corey Casey. He felt as though a slight amount of vomit was about to come up his throat, so he did the only reasonable thing he knew how - he flooded his throat with more alcohol.

Alexander Remington: And Corey, you did a lot of good things for my career. You took me in when UECW crashed and burned and you gave me a place in your company. You began to pave a path of success for me, but that's the problem - I never really needed your help and I lost touch on that reality a long time ago. I am Alexander fucking Remington. I need not be a pawn in some silly game you play; I need not be a hit-man for your own personal bidding. I can and will do this on my own, and at the end of my time here in the Insurgency, I will not only be known as one of the greats that ever stepped foot in an IWF ring - I will be the greatest. You had your opportunity to keep the biggest gun in your arsenal for a long long time, and with me comes great power. It wasn't you that was paving the way for me - I was paving the way for you all along. And that's why you and the rest of your kind are running a smear campaign against me - you fear what's going to happen next for you and the rest of the Empire now that its best weapon has left you scrambling for ideas on how you can remain relevant.

Alexander Remington: Oh, I'm sorry that you think that Parker Wayde winning the championship at Pick Your Poison justifies everything that you've done so far, because it doesn't. Why just a mere three weeks ago, Parker Wayde considered himself lucky just to carry my bags, and now you want to pass him off as a credible champion because you and the rest of your gang of thugs decided that you would ambush Stygian just to take his title from him? You're getting desperate Corey, and looking at your history, when you get desperate, that's when you begin to make your mistakes. You made the biggest one of them all when you decided to stab me in the back Corey. It wasn't I that was a traitor to the Empire; it was you that betrayed me. When I joined the Empire, I made one demand, and then I was yours for your bidding. And that demand was that Griffin Hawkins was off limit to any of your attacks. If Griffin Hawkins were to be taken down, it would be by my hands and my hands alone, and even then, it wouldn't be done in the manner that you seem to operate. It would be done face to face and it would be done on our terms. But you couldn't adhere to my one simple request, could you Corey? You couldn't stand that Griffin Hawkins spoke out against your practices week in and week out, so you told Baron and you told Parker to take him out, presumably thinking that since I was out with a shoulder injury that I would never notice what was going on. And it's these thug-like tactics against the one man I said was off-limits that I decided to take my talents to South Be...to re-establish Hawkington once more.

An interruption as there was a knock at the door. Alex furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the door, wondering who could be bothering him in the middle of all of this. After all, he had told his secretary to hold all visitors until he buzzed her later in the evening, but apparently you get what you pay for - Alex may have spent lavishly on himself over the years, but hired help, he was a bit of a penny-pincher. He motioned for the cameraman to pause the recording, but again, you get what you pay for, and conspicuously, the footage continued to air.

Alexander Remington: Sighing. Come in.

The door swung wide open in a dash; Alex's eyes widening as he saw the man who stood in the doorway. He walked into Remington's Los Angeles office, closing the door behind him, a huge smile covering his face. He was dressed head to toe in what appeared to be bad 90's hip-hop clothing - you know the ones I'm talking about. Weird off color baggy t-shirts with the baggy cut up jeans; shoes that look like they were found in some street-sleeper's shopping cart home. Remington reached forward and tapped his phone, paging his secretary.

Alexander Remington: Stacy, I thought I told you no visitors...

Stacy: He kinda just...barged in sir. Would you like me to call security?

Alex looked at the man who was now helping himself to some booze and cookies, as though it was his own personal buffet line. Remington shook his head with disgust, looking down at the phone before pressing the button again.

Alexander Remington: No, I think we'll be alright.

Alex leaned back in his chair as he watched the man devour his snacks, shoving the cookies into his mouth as though he was the blue-haired monster on Sesame Street himself. Having enough of this, Remington broke the silence a few moments afterward.

Alexander Remington: Shatner...what in the hell are you doing here?

Shatner, not to be confused by the similarly named William Shatner, however, their resemblances were uncanny. Many would mistake this being for the real-life celebrity if not for the way he dressed and...ugh...smelled. His mannerisms were a bit off as well, though one could argue the real-life celebrity's mannerisms were not exactly normal for human interaction either. He was a janitor for the longest of time for UECW. Long story short, Remington had a spat with the then owner of UECW, Brooklyn Nelson, and overhearing her order him around, Alex decided that just to spite Brooklyn, he would hire Shatner as part of his personal entourage, leaving UECW without a janitor and leaving Brooklyn quite irate.

Perhaps that's why UECW ultimately folded - the stench left behind after no janitors were present.

Shatner: Why Alex...I have just returned from my trip to the African jungles, scouring across the vast landscape in search of a rare type of jewel that would give me eternal life.

Alex stared at Shatner suspiciously.

Alexander Remington: And were you...successful?

Shatner: Well I'm still alive, aren't I?

Alexander Remington: That doesn't mean...ah, forget about it.

Shatner: I'm here because where else am I supposed to go? You hired me as your right-hand man, so here I am.

Alexander Remington: Shatner, that dissolved with the destruction of UECW. You were only...

Remington, as cold-hearted as he might have been over the years, paused as he realized he was about to tell possibly the most sorry excuse of a human being that he was only being used as bait for the irritation of Brooklyn Nelson. For all this time, Shatner believed that he was not only hired help of Remington, but perhaps even a friend.

Alexander Remington: You were only hired help with UECW. Now, you're just...

He swallowed a bit of spittle as he thought over his next words carefully, taking the time to take another additional swallow of his favorite drink first.

Alexander Remington: Now, you're just a very good friend...

Shatner: Oh boy, do you really mean that!?! We're going to have so much fun together. Sleepovers and endless game nights. Oh, I like Monopoly. I hope you like Monopoly. Of course you like Monopoly - you practically are the moneybags that this game was built around, right? Oh, ho ho, this is going to be so much fun. I get to be the thimble though. I ALWAYS get to be the thimble.

Alexander Remington: Calm down Shatner, we are NOT going to be having sleepovers. Or game nights. Well, maybe game nights when I'm really really drunk and I don't have anything better to do. Ok, we'll have game nights, but don't let anybody know about this. I don't want the word getting out that Alexander Remington can be lighthearted and waste his time playing board games...

Shatner: Well then you better tell this guy over here to turn off the camera then...

Alex slowly turned his head with fear at the camera as it was still pointed in his direction. His eyes resembled that of a deer when faced with oncoming headlights. Alex cleared his throat, adjusting his tie as he stared across at the cameraman.

Alexander Remington: Excuse me for just one moment...

Alex stood to his feet, walking over to the camera, and suddenly, without warning, the scene went black. Across everyone's television set, the words "Technical difficulties - sorry for the inconvenience" scrolled across the screen, leaving many wondering what happened to Alexander and his apparent posse.

Shatner: So ah, what exactly are you doing here Alex?

Alexander Remington: Explaining my change of heart.

Shatner: Change of heart? Did you find another girl? What happened to Jaci? I thought you two were meant to be...

Alexander Remington: Let's not talk about her...

Alex looked down at his desk, taking a deep breath as he stared at a picture that rested on the top of it. It was, of course, a picture of his former girlfriend - something about her that he just couldn't move on from. He missed her...deeply. The way she left him - it was like she just gave up without trying to work out their differences, and he was still hanging on to something that he knew in his heart of hearts would never resurrect again. And it ate at him and crushed him to think that the one woman in this world who brought him happiness had just so willingly walked away from him without even a phone call or a word of explanation. He missed her, and he knew that this emptiness he felt could not be filled again.

Alexander Remington: She left me Shatner. Left me with just a tear-stained note saying that she didn't feel like she loved me anymore or that she didn't feel she was capable of loving me ever again. Haven't heard her voice for quite some time, but I miss her.

Pausing again, he lifted the beverage back to his lips, taking in the last drops of his once-filled glass, setting it down once more. The mood in the room was much more somber than before as he thought about all the times they had together. He wanted to move on from all of this, but he couldn't yet shake her from his memory.

Alexander Remington: At any rate, I'm wrestling again. After Alexander Raven sidelined me, I made a deal with the devil - Eric Telfor - to be able to have the capacity to compete again. I needed to right the wrongs with Raven, and I did just that. Time and time again. And now it's over, though this week, I'm fighting him again, and I'm sure that he hasn't put the past behind him like I have. Well, I don't blame the guy - I was responsible for the man being made ready to be set ablaze after all. Nevertheless, before you decided to interrupt me, I was telling a scathing tale of betrayal.

Shatner: Alex, you have to stop doing this...

Alexander Remington: What? I didn't betray anyone. This time, I was the one with a knife stuck straight up my spine. This time I was the one caught off-guard by a coward with an inferiority complex. But I assure you, they are going to get what they deserve in the end. They've awakened a sleeping monster far more powerful than some make-believe dragon on Blackrock Spire. Stygian was able to retire Corey Casey - I'll murder that son of a bitch.

Shatner: And then what? Listen Alex, you get on these vindictive impulses, and it drives you to places that no human being should go. It changes you, and though I may not know this business all that much, save from conversations that I've overheard while sweeping up the locker rooms, I happen to know that revenge oftentimes leads to the destruction of all parties involved. It's not healthy.

Alexander Remington: If I go down with the ship, I'm taking them with me.

Alex stared back at the cameraman who was sitting in a chair just in front of his desk, listening as the two acquaintances somewhat caught up with their most recent events. Remington rolled his eyes, knowing that if he kept this guy around for much longer, he'd have to pay him overtime. Again, penny-pincher.

Alexander Remington: Now if you excuse me for a moment, I have a job to do. Roll the camera.

Shatner nodded his head in understanding, taking almost an armful of cookies and crackers and another glass of booze to himself as he backed away into the background, nowhere in sight of the camera. Pressing record, the cameraman held the camera upon his shoulder as Remington composed himself; the technical difficulties screen fading away from everyone's television sets.

Alexander Remington: Where was I? Oh right, the tactics of the Empire which led to my ultimate departure. So it all happened as executed, and now you have the audacity, Corey, to call me a backstabber? To act like I am the one who turned my back on you? You gave me your word, and you couldn't even keep that. And now, given the events which took place at Pick Your Poison, I never have been more sure of any decision in my entire life. Granted, no one wants more than to see Stygian suffer, but not like that. No one wants more than to see him experience ultimate failure and disappointment, but not in that manner. You stacked the deck against Jason and you happened to become the referee in that match, and anyone with half a brain would love an audit of those results, but that information will always be nowhere to be found. You bent the rules of the game, and even that wasn't enough, was it? You let your resident thug come in and help secure victory for the Empire, and now here today, our champion is no longer the Black Dragon but rather...Parker Wayde?

Alex raised his eyebrow as his voice took on a sarcastic tone, shaking his head as he couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

Alexander Remington: Seriously, of all the people you chose to represent the Empire and your company, and that's the best you could come up with? Parker Wayde is a guy who just three weeks ago, he'd be jumping for joy if I just let him carry my bags from the parking garage to my locker room, and now this is your champion? Parker Wayde accomplished nothing at Pick Your Poison. Parker Wayde only proved the age-old line that there is indeed strength in numbers. Perhaps you proved that even Superman has his limits, but you, Parker, didn't prove that you are any more worthy of being called a champion than David Arquette. You see, that piece of metal that you wrap around your waist - it doesn't make you a champion. It makes you the holder of a championship and nothing more. You aren't the best this company has to offer; you aren't the figurehead that will lead IWF into the future. You are just a guy who was in the right place at the right time. You are just a guy who Corey chose to replace me while I was out with my injury, and in the back of your mind, you know that you are inferior to pretty much everyone on this roster. You needed Corey Casey as the referee; you needed Baron Tomson as your enforcer, and even then, you needed a couple extra doses of luck to take down Stygian. To me, that isn't a story of success for you; if anything, you just proved to everyone in the world just how damn special Stygian is. And trust me, it sickens me to admit that. It sickens me to the core to give any kind of credit to that man, but that man doesn't need backup to win his battles. That man doesn't need his girls to cheat his way to victory. That man doesn't need a vindictive owner in his corner. And nor do I.

Alex stared directly into the camera, his blank slate of a face telling everyone all they needed to know about his attitude and his feelings on what happened at Pick Your Poison.

Alexander Remington: Perhaps there was a time where I thought that added wildcard in my pocket meant something, but now I understand the error in my ways. I don't apologize for the things I've done in my past, because each and every decision was calculated and at the time, I thought it was best for the good of my career. But for me to become the man that I want to become in this industry, I don't have any place with taking on the additional help of a power-hungry owner and all of his minions. For me to establish the legacy that I desire in this industry, I have to do this on my own. Parker Wayde, you spoke volumes as you said that you would get your vengeance on me for what I apparently did to you, and all I have to say is that you are on borrowed time as champion, my friend. All I have to say to that is whenever you feel like you can get your tail out from between your legs, as soon as your balls descend from that slit they are hiding in, I welcome you to name the time and to name the place, and I will fight you for that championship that you believe makes you a champion. And if you are that champion that you say you are, you will not only ask Corey Casey and Baron Tomson to stay in the back where they belong; you'll demand it. And I'll do the same to Hawkins and Tiffani and anyone else that wants to join my cause. I'll fight you for that championship, and I promise you, I'll take it away from you, and you'll never get a glimpse of it again. I'll personally do what I should have done from the beginning, and piece by piece, I will destroy the Empire for good. I will remove the stain of Corey Casey from this company, and IWF will be freed from the tyrannical government that has ruled over it with an iron fist. I don't need all the power that Corey Casey promised me - it was vain anyway, and quite frankly, it was worthless. Grow a pair and fight me Parker, and maybe then somebody might actually respect you as a champion.

Alex leaned over and grabbed the bottle of Rum he had been drinking out of, pouring himself another glass, taking a brief respite from his comments as he took another sip. He then set the glass down before him, shrugging his shoulders as he continued onward, although toward a different subject altogether.

Alexander Remington: However, it is interesting how everything comes full circle, isn't it? Just a month ago, I was the one waving the banner of the Empire, and I am the one who removed Alexander Raven from this company altogether. I set him in the middle of the ring, and giving Baron Tomson the perfect sacrifice, I allowed him to set Alexander Raven ablaze, seemingly ending this epic saga between he and I. And that was it, or so I thought. But apparently, the sisters of fate have decided a different course for me, and now I am to find out that yet again, Alexander Raven and I are set to do battle on Battle Grounds once more.

Remington rolled his eyes, quite weary of the entire back and forth between he and Raven over the course of the last year or so. But nevertheless, this was the task at hand, so he might as well put it to rest.

Alexander Remington: Alex, I could sit here and go on and on about how you started all of this that night that you decided to attempt the end of my career with one swing of a bat, but that's old news. I could ramble on about how you could have had it all in this business had you simply followed my lead and not stabbed me in the back and followed the orders of your old man, but I digress. The truth is, I've grown weary of everything between us over the last year. I've grown weary of kicking your ass time and time again, and frankly, Monday night is going to be the end of all of it. You're like an annoying gnat that continues to come back against me no matter how many times I swat it away. I'm tired of it all, and I'm going to finish you off once and for all, and we'll never hear from you again.

But he wasn't through with his former adversary; not by a long shot.

Alexander Remington: Upon your return, you told everyone that the time would come where you would get your revenge on me for setting you up to be set on fire like your dear old daddy many months ago, but for now, your attention would be elsewhere. How you would be the one to take down the Empire single-handed in time, but your focus was in another place. How convenient. Since the very beginning, you've always sought one thing - to mimic and to copy everything I've done, because at the root of it all, you envy me Raven. Go ahead and deny it all, but you know it to be true. From the beginning, you practically got on your hands and your knees and begged me to allow you into my circle, because you thought that if I simply gave you a piece of my success, it would sustain you for the rest of your life. But then you got greedy. You allowed your father to manipulate you - a decision that I am sure you have realized by now was a crucial mistake. But even in your betrayal of me that night, you used every play in my playbook to the tee. You even used my own weapon against me, and now you want me to even consider you a threat? A threat to all that I have established and am soon to establish in this company? Alexander, I don't look at you as a threat; I look at you as a young pathetic kid that didn't have a real father figure to beat some sense into you as a child, and now you look up to me as your hero and your mentor. And now that I won't give in and give you the advice and the tutelage you need to succeed, you are doing nothing more than throwing a childish temper-tantrum. I don't respect you; I pity you. I'm disgusted by you. I'm disgusted with myself for ever making the decision to take you into my inner circle in the first place. Not many men have been given that opportunity, and you spit in my face and you turned your back against me and you were nothing more than an ungrateful bastard for the opportunity that I afforded you.

Alexander Remington: But alas, Monday night, it is the end. It's the end of our long line of battles; it's the end of having to look over my shoulder and wonder if you are going to attack me from behind as seems to be your custom of late. It's the end of having to hear you bitch and moan about what I did in response to your betrayal many months ago. It's the end of having to listen to you go on and on about how life isn't treating you fairly and about how you are going to finally live up to a promise that you are only going to fall short of yet again. Monday night is the finale. Monday night is the night that you come to grips with reality and understand that you are simply not as good as you make yourself out to be. I thought you were special, and that's why I took you in the first place, but I realize the mistake in my judgment now. You're just one of the rest. You're a nobody. You're Parker Wayde without a championship to your name. And on Monday night, you're unemployed.

He paused to let that all sink in both to Alexander Raven and to the television audience. Raising a single finger in the air, he continued, although looking at the clock on the wall, and factoring in overtime costs quickly in his head, Alex knew it was about time to wrap things up.

Alexander Remington: But Monday night isn't just about endings; it's about new beginnings. Up to this point in my IWF career, I have been good, but not great. I certainly haven't lived up to the hype that has surrounded me ever since my arrival to this great company. I allowed myself to lose focus and I lost to men like Ryan Apollos and I allowed my shoulder injury to keep me from beating my good friend in Griffin Hawkins. I've failed each and every person who believed that I would be the man that would eventually and inevitably rise to the throne and dethrone the dragon himself. And while he may have lost his throne, no doubt you all see him as the shining light upon the hill, and that is soon to come to an end. While I respect Stygian for all that he's accomplished, and while I think it's deplorable what happened to him at Pick Your Poison at the hands of the Empire, my purpose in this company has not changed. Perhaps rerouted a bit after last Sunday night, but it remains the same. Parker Wayde beat Stygian; granted, with a ton of help from men that should not have been involved. Other men and women have defeated Stygian in the past - 7 if my count is correct. But I'm not interested in simply beating the Dragon in a single match. I'm interested in doing something that has yet to be done, and that is humbling him. Making him admit that through it all, I'm better than him. Stygian, no doubt what happened to you on Sunday night was terrible, and had I been in the arena that night, even I would have come out and saved you from such a ridiculous act by those three cowards. And in the future, you have my word that I won't let something like that take place from those three again, but that doesn't change the fact that our careers are forever intertwined. We will have our series of battles, and we will have our war, and while plans have changed time and time again, and while it seems as though history will have to take a bit of a breather while we both sort our own issues out first with others, the day is quickly approaching. Armageddon is soon to arrive. December 21st will not be the end of the world, but on that day where we finally have the first of what will be many battles, the end of our lives as we know them now will be over. We both will be changed and altered by the course of events which will take place. You see Stygian, you do complete me; not in some homo-erotic manner, but for my career, it will never be complete until I finish that which we started several years ago in UECW. And whether you want to admit it or not, I complete you and your career, as storied as it may be.

Alexander Remington: I have failed to live up to the promise, but Monday night, I will begin my ascension back to the man that I once was and the man that I was always supposed to become. Alexander Raven, unfortunately for you, you just happen to be the first on the list. And for you, that spells trouble.

Alex, with his hand slowly crossing his throat, signaled for the cameraman to stop recording. Thankfully this time, he actually was able to figure out the button to push, turning off the camera. He would leave the room as Shatner stepped forward, crumbs covering his shirt in a ridiculous display of uncleanliness.

Shatner: Still hung up on Stygian, are you?

Alexander Remington: Aren't I always?

Alex smiled, taking another sip from his glass; clearly quite the drinker.

Shatner: And what if after all of this, he beats you within an inch of your life? What will they call you?

Alexander Remington: They'll call me what I would be - a failure.

Shatner: And are you afraid of that? Not of Stygian I mean, but of the possibility of ever being called a failure?

Alexander Remington: More than you know Shatner; more than you will ever know.

With these words, the two men would part ways. Shatner would likely hit up some local YMCA in an attempt to pick up some hotties, and Remington would go back to his mounds of paperwork - the problems with running another business on the side of his wrestling career. But taking a bit of a respite, he stood from his desk and walked over to his office door, locking it this time so that no one else could intrude, not trusting his hired secretary after the Shatner debacle. Remington cracked a smile and laughed to himself as he stepped back to his desk, having a seat as he looked out the window at the outside world for a moment, taking it all in before turning around and getting back to work.