Flex Johnson [vs.] Frank Finelli

A Brief Intermission

Scene One
Flex’s Black Audi S7 slowly pulled up against the curb. Staying near the curb was a young man. He had to be about 19; he was pimply-faced, and had sandy blond hair. The boy had on a dark red vest and black pair of slacks.

The name-tag on his vest read “valet.”

The driver turned the car off; the valet opened the passenger side door. Out walked Mya, wearing a beautiful cream colored dress. Flex Johnson stepped out on the driver’s side. He wore a sharp black tux, white a cream colored vest to match Mya.

Flex walked over towards the valet.

“How you doing,” said Flex. “My name’s Flex Johnson; I have a reservation here.”

The boy’s eyes lit up a bit when he heard the name.

“Aye yes, good evening Mr. Johnson—the whole restaurant has been on edge due to your arrival.”

“Really?” asked Flex. “Your establishment gets big name patrons all the time.”

“Yes, that is true. But the owner is a huge wrestling fan; she is really looking forward to meeting with you.”

The valet smiled and held out his hand.

“But, I’ve wasted enough of your time sir. Please, may I have your keys?”

“What’s your name son?” asked Flex as he handed over the keys.

“Jake—Jake Willimson.”

“Just call me Flex man,” he said as he patted Jake on the shoulder. “I’m just a dude who wrestles and live in L.A.—no need for all the ‘sirs’ and such.”

“Ok, well, thank you.”

Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out a card.

“Here is your ticket. I may or may not be here when you get finished. But, just hand this to whoever is working.”

“Thanks Jake.”

“Thank you Flex.” Jake then turned to Mya. “And ma’am, you look stunning tonight. Please, enjoy you experience here at Melisse.”

Mya smiled and gave Jake a small kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you Jake.”

Mya held out her hand; Flex grabbed it, and the two began to walk towards the front door.

“Was that payback for me flirting with Zane?”

“Yup.” Mya let out a little laugh as she drew closer to Flex. She put her arm around his waist.
“You better be glad I love you.”

“Indeed.”

The two entered the restaurant. Once inside, Mya took a look around. She glanced at the ceiling; the ceiling was white, lined with bright, sparkling lights. The walls on the western side of the restaurant were a dark purple color. On the eastern side of the restaurant was a large glass window, accented with wood panels.

A few seconds later, Mya and Flex were approached by a hostess.

“Hi. My name is Sarah—what is your party name?”

“Flex Johnson.”

“Oh yes, welcome Mr. Johnson. We have a special table for you.”

The hostess led Flex and Mya to a small, secluded area of the restaurant. The two both took a seat.

Mya smiled at Flex as she got comfortable in her seat.

“So, what kind of restaurant is this?”

“Manabu recommend it to me. It serves some of the best French food you will ever eat.”

“French?” asked Mya. She smiled. “You know it’s my favorite.”

“Yes” said Flex with a laugh.

“But this is your celebration dinner. YOU are the champion—you should have picked one of your favorite spots.”

“And YOU are the champion’s fiancée—this dinner is just as much mine as it is yours.”

Mya reached out and grabbed Flex’s hand.

“Minus your sparse flirting spats,” Mya said with a laugh, “you’re a pretty good fiancée.”

“And you are the best I could possibly ask for,” said Flex.

The two looked at each other for a few seconds. Mya paid particular attention to Flex’s eyes; his eyes always revealed what he was thinking, if you knew how to read them.

Mya caressed Flex’s hand a bit.

“What’s wrong?”

Flex was silent for a second.

“Well, there’s something I wanted to talk about…I was going to wait until we got home though.”

“No,” Mya said after she shook her head. “What is it?”

“Are you…are you happy with me…and what I do?”

“Of course I’m happy with you silly,” said Mya. “And by what you ‘do’, I assume you mean wrestling?”

“Yeah—I mean, it’s something we have never really talked about.”

“Flex, where is all of this coming from?”

Flex sighed.

“Well, it’s something that came to my mind a few weeks ago. I was flying home from Isolation—you know after that gauntlet match. I remember looking down at my knee; it was taped up from that huge dive I hit on Jack Savage. I put a hand on my stomach; it was taped up from the beating I endured from Frank Finelli.

“Throughout my entire career, I’ve never questioned my injuries. I always figured that injuries just came with the sport.

“But because of my situation with IWF, because of the embarrassing lose I suffer that night—I thought about those injuries.

“And…I thought about you.”

Flex sighed.

“Day in and day out you watch me leave the house. You watch me go to the gym for four or five hours at a time, and then you watch me come home exhausted. You watch me get on a plane and fly all across the world.

“And, yeah, we bond when both of us are free. But, most of the time, you only really get to see me on TV and Pay-Per-Views; you wither get to see me kick ass, or get my ass kicked.”

Flex singed once again.

“You know, wrestling isn’t just my career. Wrestling is my life.

“It HAS to come first.

“And, well, I’m…I just feel like a piece of shit, because I’m bringing you into this this crazy life of mine—a life where you will be second, at least for a few years.”

Flex went silent for a bit. Throughout the whole conversation, he had been looking right into Mya’s eyes. After finishing, Flex lowered his eyes; he stared down at the white table cloth. Once again, Mya ran her thumb across Flex’s hand.

“You know, before you proposed to me, I had a talk with your sister.”

Flex looked up.

“Really? With all of them?”

“No, Myrice.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm—she called me from Europe.” Mya smiled at Flex. “Do you want to know what she said?

“She told me that her brother was a strong man that has gone through a lot of pain. She told me that you where honest; she told me you always act with the best intentions, even if shit goes wrong. And, she told me that you have never been happier than you are right now.”

Flex smiled a bit.

“Because of you dear.”

“I know.” Mya laughed a little bit. “She gave me her blessing.”

Mya reached across the table and lifted Flex’s chin.

“Flex, from the first day I met you knew that wrestling came first in your life. It bothered me at first, until you told me your whole story. After hearing your story, I understood everything. You’ve worked so hard your entire life to become a wrestler, to become the man you are today.

“I don’t see myself as being second in your life—I feel like I’m tied with wrestling and I’m ok with that.

“When we get married, you AND I will be involved in wrestling; we’ll become one.”

Mya smiled.

“So yeah—I love you AND what you do. I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now if I didn’t.”

Flex nodded his head. He looked up at Mya.

“I love you babe.”

“I love you too.” Mya leaned over and kissed Flex. “Now, I’m tired of this somber mood. This is YOUR night Flex! You’re a champion baby!”

“That I am,” said Flex with a laugh. “I must admit though—it feels a bit different.”

“Well what do you mean?”

“I don’t know. When I going after my first 10 titles, it was more about actually capturing the gold you know. But this time against Sheyanne, well honestly, the gold was secondary. Sure, I wanted to be crowned a two-time High Impact champion, but more importantly, I wanted to beat her. I wanted to prove to her that I am the better wrestler; I wanted to prove to the world that I am the best wrestler. And, even the blogs tried to drag my name through the mud, even though everyone seemed against me—I won.

“Babe, it’s hard to explain. But, it just feels like I can beat anyone.”

Mya laughed.

“I love this new boast of confidence.”

“Ha, I’m going to need it this week.”

As Flex finished up his sentence, the Sarah hostess walked up.

“Mr. Johnson, we are so sorry for the delay. Your first course will be out in two minutes.”

“Oh it’s not a problem—thank you very much.


Scene Two
Flex tossed his ring gear into his gym bag. He got up off the shiny metal bench. He looked at the Gold’s Gym bench, and then around him; a slight smile came across his face. When he was in Harlem, Flex always trained at hole-in-the-wall spots; he thought he needed to “keep it real.” But, after traveling the world, and after moving to L.A., Flex began to seek out quality places.

Flex picked up his bag and began to walk towards the exit as his iPhone rang. He reached into his back pocket and answered the phone, without looking at the ID.

“Hello, Flex Johnson speaking.”

“How is my big brother doing!?”

On the other end of the line was Myrice, Flex’s sister. The two hadn’t spoken in a few weeks, due to Myrice’s job—and probably due to Flex’s traveling as well.

“I’m doing awesome. How are you sis?”

“Oh, I’m doing pretty good.

“But not as good as you Mr. Eleven-time Champion—congrats!”

“Thanks sis, I really appreciate it,” Flex said. “So what’s up?”

“Well, I have a seminar in L.A. next week. I was wondering if we could meet up.”

“Of course!”

“Eeiippp!”

Flex laughed.

“I thought you would have grown out of making weird audible sounds of excitement.”

“Haha, I guess not.”

“By the way, where will you be staying? You and the husband staying at the usually Hilton?”

“No, he won’t be with me this trip—he has his own seminar to go to.”

“Oh ok. Well, why don’t you just stay with me? You know I have plenty of room.”

“Well I didn’t want to impose.”

“Hush! You’re my sister, you know you are ALWAYS welcome.”

“Aww, thank you bro.”

“What day do you come in town?”

“Sunday.”

“Cool—I will pick you up. Then we can go to dinner or something.”

“That would be awesome.”

Flex reached the door.

“Alright sis, I’m about to leave the gym. So, I’ll talk to you soon ok.

“Love you.”

“Love you too bro. Talk to you later.”


Scene Three
Once Again!

Once again I am your IWF High Impact Champion!

And once again I proved all of you fools wrong. Twitter was all abuzz; people were placing bets on how badly I was going to get my ass kicked. Youtube vloggers were going crazy, saying that there was no way that I could win.

And, let’s not forget Sheyanne—my opponent herself. You know, for a month straight, I had to hear my good named dragged and thrashed about in the mud. I was called washed-up, a bitch, a coward. I was publicly attacked on TV, on the radio, and on the internet!

And even through all that hardship, all the mess—I walked out of Ragnarok the champion!

It’s an awesome feeling to know that you are the best in the world. But it’s an even better feeling to put the rest of the roster—no, the rest of the world, on notice!

I joined IWF about seven months ago; when I joined, I had one goal in mind. That goal was to prove that I am still the best; to prove that even at 42, I can still carry a company. Nonetheless, my first three months or so were lack-luster. The problem didn’t rest with me; I gave 1000 percent, just like I do everything I walk through those curtains. No—the problem was with the Insurgency office. You see, they didn’t know what they had right in front of them.

Foolishness kills!

And that’s why Corey Casey and the other goons that were running this company are sitting on their asses right now.
And me—well, I’m on top of the world!

You know, you all are probably going to think this is crazy, but I’m going to say it anyway. For about two days after Ragnarok, all I could do is sit and stare at the High Impact Title. You see, my match at Ragnarok epic; but, it wasn’t just about some gold. Oh no, the implications were much larger! At the Pay-Per-View I walked into seemingly impossible odds—and I beat them!

I’ve been doing that my entire career!

And on Battlegrounds this week, I’m going to defy the odds one more time.

Frank Finelli…

…That name strikes fear into the hearts of a few wrestlers.

But not me Frank.

I mean Frank, really, is there a reason WHY is should fear you in this match?

Should I fear you because you are bigger than me? Should I fear you because your stronger than me?

Let me explain something to you Frank; I’m 5’11’’ son. I’ve been wrestling for a longer time my man, and trust me; you aren’t the first “big man” that I’ve faced. Throughout my career, I’ve come to a number of realizations. Frank, I’ll rarely be the biggest guy in the match; I’m nearly 6’0’’, which aint nothing in this business. Also, I’ll rarely be the most chiseled man in the ring; I’m 42 with a fiancée—I don’t have the time, energy, or “resources” to get as ripped as you.

But let me tell you something; 90 percent of the time I’m the better wrestler.

And that’s the case between you and me Frank—I’m the better wrestler!

Ha, you know, it’s kind of funny. A few months ago Thor entered IWF. Management ignorantly threw him into a title match, without any knowledge of his work, without any build. But hey, the match had a lot of scrubs in it—Thor ended up winning. And for months, he proceeded to get booked against weak opponents.

Hmm—conspiracy?

Maybe, but that’s for another time.

The point is Thor got some wins; he started to get big head. He had a master plan, a plan to dominate this federation. Part of his plan was to resurrect the “Empire of Boring.”

That’s where you come in Frank. Frank Finelli—EoB’s “enforcer.”

But Frank, there are a couple of caveats.

Down in the little indie feds and bush leagues you were in, perhaps people feared you. But when you came up to IWF, you stepped up onto the greatest stage of them all, no gave to flying fucks about you kid.

And let’s not forget; you are nothing more than a glorified lackey.  Thor didn’t care about you; he never cared about you making it here in IWF. If he did, he wouldn’t have stuck Storming Raven and MM, two people who couldn’t cut it in the wrestling business even if Jesus himself had trained them.

I don’t you before that I didn’t fear you; but, I didn’t offer a reason as to why.

Frank, there is no reason to fear you. Outside of the business man, my life has been chaos. My father got murdered, my brother got murdered; mom mother nearly got beat to death by Ace Static. People told me I wasn’t shit because of where grew up, and because of this black skin of mine. At one point in time I went to jail because of stupid shit. And let’s be honest; my wrestling career has been mirror image of my real life. In EVERY promotion that I’ve ever been in my skin color has been brought up. I was robbed and cheated in UECW because the owner wanted to build his son up, at the expense of the rest of the roster!

Through all that adversity, through all that pain—I’m still standing Frank. No, I’m not just standing, I’m thriving!

So why the fuck should I fear you Frank? Why the fuck should I fear ANYONE?

Ha, “Bad to the Bone” Frank Finelli. You know, it’s really a shame. You see, sure, you seem to win a fair amount of regular TV matches. But let’s be honest Frank, here in IWF, you haven’t been able to win the big match. At Isolation, you had the biggest opportunity of your career. You had a shot at the High Impact title. Not only that, but you had a chance to defeat me, after I had already gone through two other matches. Frank, at that point in time, I was beat-down and tired.
And yet—you STILL couldn’t pull out a win; you couldn’t bring home the title!

Ha, you know who you remind me of Frank? You are so much like Parker. Well, not exactly.  Parker helped build this company, so he deserves a great deal of respect. But, the fact of the matter is; he’s lost his touch over the past four to five months. He got arrogant; and now, he can win on TV, but not in the big matches.

Frank, if a prodigy like Parker can fall from grace, I wonder what’s to come in your mediocre career.

Oh, but you also remind me a lot of Corey Bull. You do know Bull don’t you? He’s another big, lumbering Ox like yourself.
I first met Corey back in UECW; he was coming into the company as I was heading out. At the time, UECW was having a large exodus—everyone was leaving. Corey called himself “The Hatebringer,” he called himself a monster. Corey earned a gaggle of championships in that company. But, truth be told—he was never a monster. He wasn’t this big, dominating force. The fact of the matter is; Corey was just a huge fish in an itty-bitty pond. It’s not hard to become the champion when there isn’t someone skilled to challenge you.

Oh, but when talented people started re-signing with UECW, Bull lost all his steam.

When Ace Static signed, Bull got crushed. When Vincent Palmer signed, Bull began to fade into obscurity. And, when I re-signed—well, Bull got so discourage by all the ass-kicking that he left the company.

Frank, Bull has never beaten me. And just like him, you are used to being a huge fish in an itty-bitty pound.

But Frank, here is the painful and nasty truth; your best opportunity to defeat me was at Isolation. However, even at my WORST you couldn’t defeat me—how exactly do you possibly expect to beat me at my best?

…

Unstoppable…

…That’s kind of how I’m feeling right now. Yeah Frank, maybe it’s ignorant. Hell, it’s arrogant for sure. But I’m proven that I’m one of the best wrestlers in this company, if not the best.

No, fuck that!

I’m one of the best wrestlers in the WORLD!

I mean, just look at the circumstances Frank. You have never been this close to the main event. Do you think you got here because of your match quality? Do you think you got here because of your sub-par record?

No!

Frank, you are in the second to last match of the card because of ME, and me alone! You are here because the world wants to see me defeat you this week; and who am I to deny the world of its wish.

Yeah, you are going to lose this week Frank. But, maybe it’s a good thing. I’ve ended careers, Like Lionheart in UECW. But, I’ve also started and rebuilt careers. Whichever category you will fall into depends on how you bounce back next week.

But, there is still one constant in this equation—you are still going to lose!


Scene Four
You have One message from… Manabu Fujiwara

“Hey Flex—what’s going on homie.

“Man, I just wanted to call and congratulate you on your championship win. I meant to call you last week, but I got bogged down.

“A couple feds here in Japan booked me, so I flew out here last Monday. Ha, I’ve worked a match every day since I’ve been here. I’m trying to be like you when I grow up haha.

“Oh, Flex I had some news for you as well. You remember Rex Evans? He was the champion from Code Red Wrestling that came into IWF to face Gordon. I got a call from his agent, who directed me to another agent. Apparently Code Red is sponsoring and holding an event called the Fall Charity Bash. Obviously, the proceeds will be going to various charities and organizations. They called me and asked if I would be interested; but, I’ll be in Europe at the time.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I passed your name along to the agent. You should be getting a call pretty soon. Maybe you can add it to your Summer Tour ya know.

“Anyway man, again congrats! We celebrate again once in get back.

“Peace Sensei.”

< OFF CAMERA>

It had been almost a month since I had to show up at the arena site we were building near downtown , but I figured it was time I popped over and checked up on things just to make sure there were not any issues that had arisen since the last fiasco of the sod and dirt being laid down instead of a cement foundation which was what the plans called for. As I start walking towards the building, I notice that most of the windows were now in place on the first floor and Mezzanine levels. There were workers on the third and fourth levels were the Executive Suites are being worked on had windows being put in as I looked up that way. So far, so good. It appears all is on schedule as I continue to look around until.......


Juan: Senior Finelli!, Senior Finelli!, it wasn't my fault believe me. I tried to stop it from happening but I was too late.


I look at him and wonder what the hell he is talking about.


Frank: What in the hell are you babbling about Juan? From all I have seen everything looks fine.


Juan: Oh, so you have not been told yet then.


Frank: Told about what Juan? What the hell is going on?


Juan: The window contractor brought the wrong size windows for the fourth level suites. He has to wait until the correct size arrives to continue putting them in place. I tried to tell him they looked too small for the window frames, but he said I was nuts and when his men tried to install the first one. It fell right out and down to the ground.


As he explained it to me I slowly nodded my head and started to wonder why Mike had not called me about this.


Frank: Why are you telling me this Juan? Why isn't Mike doing it?


Juan: Senior Mike, is at the hospital getting stitched up, when the window shattered as it hit the ground, he was slashed on the arm. It wasn't real bad. But he went to get it taken care of.


I let out a sigh and shake my head and start to walk to find the window contractor to get his side of the story. I enter the inside of the building and find him on the second level.


Frank: Alright Dave , just what the hell is going on with the suite windows for the fourth level?


Dave: They sent me the wrong damn size Frank, when we went to install them the first one fell out and hit the ground. I checked the boxes they were sent in and it had the right size marked on it but the windows didn't match. I called them and ripped them a damn ass about it too. Replacements will be here tomorrow but I won't sign for them until we install a couple to make sure they fit this time.


Frank: Okay Dave. Just make sure you stay on top of this situation. If they don't fit let me know immediately.


I head back out of the building knowing that Dave will make sure the windows are right this time. I head back to my truck and get in. I start it up and start to drive off the site to head back home , I activate my dash phone and call Mike.


Frank: Hey Mike, how bad is your arm cut up?


Mike: Not too bad Frank, only about thirty stitches. I'm on my way back to the site now.


Frank: Good, I talked to Juan and Dave already, Dave assures me that he will make sure the windows actually fit the fourth level suites before taking full delivery of them. I'll talk to you tomorrow . Take care


Mike: Okay Frank, talk to you then.

I disconnect the call and continue to drive towards home. I was glad that this problem at the arena site was a lot easier to fix than the previous one had been. I still can't fathom how that debacle might have turned out if Mike wasn't on top of things, one of the best Foremen in the company. I pull into the driveway and head for the garage, as the door opens and I drive inside, I quickly put the truck in park and shut off the engine and get out and push the close button on the door switch and then enter the house.I head right for the kitchen and grab a beer from the fridge and walk to the living room and sit down on the sofa and put my feet up on the coffee table and take a few sips from my ice cold beer. Lisa comes in the living room from the pol deck wearing a towel and smirks at me.

Lisa: A beer at ten thirty in the morning babe?

I glance up at her as she sits down next to me.

Frank: Been one of those mornings baby. And it is just what I need too.

Lisa smirks and nods her head as she starts to remove the towel covering her.

Lisa: Then I guess you don't want any of this eh honey?

She finishes removing the towel and tosses it on the coffee table and is sitting there naked. I guess she had been skinny dipping in the pool again. And why not, the ten foot high brick wall fence around our pool deck just begs for that kind of activity to go on anyway. I chuckle for a moment and then wink and smile at hr.

Frank: When am I NOT interested in that with you baby? Come to Papa!........

She giggles and bites her bottom lip then climbs onto my lap and........

<< Forty five minutes later>>

Lisa gets up from the sofa and walks upstairs to "freshen up", my shoes, shirt slacks and other attire is strewn across the coffee table, sofa arm and floor as I lean my back against the back of the sofa completely worn out from the impromptu "wrestling" match with her. I grab the beer which is now only cool and not ice cold and drink down the rest of it. I let out a sigh and get up and take the empty and toss it in the trash can in the kitchen and come back and start to gather my clothes from their resting spots. I glance at my watch and realize I have to get my bag packed for my flight to the next Battlegrounds show . I find my cell phone in my pants pocket and take it out, and quickly make a call .

Frank: James, it's me. What time are you going too be here with the limo to take me to the airport to my plane?

James: Um, should be at your place in about an hour boss.

Crap, I had just about an hour to finish packing and get changed before he gets here. And Lisa is probably ready for "round two" now.One thing about my wife, she is never satisfied with once. Always a "double header" to use a baseball term. I finish collecting my clothes and head upstairs to pack and change for my flight. I walk into the bedroom and to my surprise Lisa is asleep, or at she looks like she is. I put my clothes in the hamper and go to take a shower. As I come back out fifteen minutes later and start to get dressed for my flight. I notice my bag is packed already. Lisa must have packed it when she came upstairs to save me some time. I finish dressing and lean down to kiss her and she sits up in bed.

Lisa: Enjoy your trip baby and kick Flex's ass !

I kiss her on the lips passionately and wink at her.

Frank: No promises babe, Flex is one hell of a talent. But he'll definitely get one hell of a battle from me either way.

I grab my bag and head downstairs and just as i go to sit on the sofa I hear the limo horn beep outside. I check to make sure I have my keys with me and head out the front door, locking it behind me and there is James opening the rear door of the limo for me. I toss my bag inside the back and get in the rear seat and close the door as James jogs around to the driver's side and climbs in behind he wheel and then drives off towards the airport.

*****************************************************************************************
< Twenty four hours later , before Battlegrounds goes on the air >

ON CAMERA

The backstage area is filled with staff , talent and interviewers scurrying around frantically. It is like that with only an hour or two before a show goes "live". The cameraman is just about done checking the lighting, angle and focus on his machine. He looks over at me as i sit on a chair , dressed in my ring attire and ready mentally and physically for my match with Flex Johnson. The green light flashes on the bottom of the camera and he gives me a quick nod of his head.

Frank: Flex Johnson, former High Impact champ, High Impact champ? Which is it Flex? From what I remember, you LOST your title in that Gauntlet match when you challenged EVERYONE in IWF to take you on a few weeks before Ragnarock didn't you Flex? To me it doesn't really matter, you see, I look at this match with you tonight as a unique opportunity. An opportunity to show to you and everyone else that the EVERY member of The Empire of Blood IS a person NOT to be taken lightly. All of us, Storming, Thor , myself have heard the snickering and disbelief spew from your mouths. The one thing you can't deny is this. The Empire of Blood IS A FORCE that MUST be reckoned with in this company. Today and every day that follows. Everyone around here knows the talent you posses Flex. I'm not a "green" wet behind the ears rookie in this business. I have seen guys like you before. You make a living off of opponents not realizing the skills you have. Your problem tonight is that you DO underestimate the skills I have.

I pause for a few seconds and pace around then come back into the camera shot with a smirk on my face and begin to speak again.

Frank: You see Flex, you and others seem to think my association with Thor is because we have known each other for quite a while. Well only part of that is true. Thor and I have been rivals in the past, but mutual respect grew from our past battles to a knowledge that we could trust each other . You see, Thor has seen first hand that when I give my WORD OF HONOR to back and support a partner, I DAMN WELL DO IT. Hell, even Storming Raven was wary of me at one time, but figured out that when I say I have someones back. I damn well MEAN IT. But enough about ancillary issues that might be running through your mind Flex. Time to get down to "brass tacks" as hey say.

I take another pause for dramatic effect more than anything. I look into the camera, my eyes filled with the intensity of a warrior about to go into a battle to the death with an unknown assailant, only I know who and what my opponent is at the time.

Frank: You may think you know who and what you are up against tonight Flex. But unfortunately you truly have NO DAMN CLUE what you are up against when we both enter that ring. I am just as much a master at mind games as Thor is. He just likes to tell someone straight out what he is planning and dare them to thwart that plan. I tend to not do that. I let you....... Yeah right, like I'm going to let you know inside information that could give you an advantage . Like I said Flex, I'm no damn rookie! I have enough experience to adjust to ANYTHING during a match. What I can tell you is this. No opponent has yet to intimidate me before, during or after a match. Tonight you get to face "The Executioner" one on one Flex. Welcome to my "Death Chamber", it's called a ring. Let's see if you can get a "reprieve from execution" shall we ? See you soon Flex. "Bring it" or leave it at home son. Cause I sure he hell will "bring it".

I crack a confident, evil smirk and get up from the chair and exit the dressing room past the cameraman as the scene fades to black.