Mastermind woke up to a buzzing sound. His head was also spinning. He was on top of his bed, still fully clothed. He looked around and saw his cell phone on his dresser, and grabbed it and opened it.

"Hello?"

MARIA: "'M' finally I got you, I've been trying for a couple of hours."

Mastermind sat up, his head was really spinning now.

"Maria? What's wrong?"

MARIA: "I saw your last promo. You've been drinking?"

Mastermind looked across the room, at the table. It was crammed with Bud Lights.

"That's funny I can't even remember drinking that much."

MARIA: "But that's just it babe, you don't drink."

"That's not true, I drink every once in a while, and last night was my first drink in ages."

MARIA: "What's going on babe, I'm worried about you."

"There's nothing going on Maria, I'm fine. You don't need to worry, I'll be home Thursday for a week."

MARIA: "You went and saw the Doc, which I think was a bad choice, and now you're drinking. There is something going on?"

Mastermind sat on the end of the bed, and placed his free hand on his head. He didn't have time for this, and plus, he couldn't be fucked arguing.

"I did go and see the Doc, and I did drink. I have a big match coming up, and my fucking tag team partner has not shown up yet. He fucking doesn't care."

MARIA: "Oi, language babe."

Mastermind got up, and sat directly back down again. The room was spinning.

"Can we please talk about this when I get home, I'm feeling like I could just explode on you at any minute, and I love you too much to do that."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Now he did it.

MARIA: "Well at least your honest about it. I was just ringing up to see if you were okay. I was concerned. Now I know I shouldn't even have called."

Maria hung up. Shit, now he had done it. He stood up.

"Fucking great, just great."

He walked over to the fridge, and pulled out the last remaining thing that was left in it. It was a water bottle. He opened it, and drank it in it's entirety. He grabbed his phone, and dialed.

MARIA: "What?"

"I'm sorry babe. I shouldn't have drunken, and I shouldn't have gone to see the Doc, but I did, and I can't take it back. But I can apologize for being an arse."

Mastermind heard Maria giggle a bit.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you."

MARIA: "You're too open at times, and I need to realize that, so I'm sorry as well."

Mastermind sat down at the end of his bed.

"So do you forgive me?"

MARIA: "Of course I do, you know it. Just get through tonight, and I'll see you home on Thursday, and together we'll sit down and figure out about what to do about your head space."

"Sounds like a plan."

MARIA: "Rest up, and I'll see you home within the next 48 hours. I love you."

"I love you too."

Mastermind hung up. He placed the phone down on the bed. He looked across the room to the table, with the beer bottles on it again.

He stands up, and walks slowly over to it. He places his hands down on it, and leans over.

Suddenly without warning the whole table goes flying into the wall. Bottles breaks, and glass goes every where.

"Fuck... Fuck... Fuck... Fuck... Fuck... Fuck... Fuck... Fuck... Fuck... Fuck... Fuck.... Fuck...

"Nobody tells me what I can or cannot fucking drink, or when to do something, or go fucking see someone. No one."

Mastermind stands over the mess, and kneels down. Suddenly he hears a voice in his head:

"Release the Monster Mister M."

Mastermind grabbed his head.

"Leave me the fuck alone, get out of my head."

Mastermind gets up, and storms into the bathroom, he looks at himself in the mirror. He can't see any difference, he then hears.

"Stop fighting this, you know you want me to come back."

Mastermind clenches his fist, and stands there fuming, looking at his own reflection.

"I don't need anything to come back, I can do this on my own."

"No you can't,"

""Nobody tells me what I can or can't fucking do. I'll show you what I can fucking do."

SMASH

Mastermind just blinks, and is shocked to see what he has done. His right hand was right smack in the middle of the broken mirror. Glass was scattered every where. He stumbles backwards clutching his hand. He again drops to his knees.

He quickly gets up, and rushes out to the main room, and grabs his cell phone, and starts dialing.....

---

An hour and a half later the hotel room was being cleaned, and fixed up. Mastermind had called his Personal Assistant Julian Andrews to come and help him. Julian always accompanied Mastermind on trips, but often was not called upon, but he still worked anyways. Setting up schedules for the upcoming weeks.

Today without a word, he was organizing the cleaning up of the beer bottles, and getting rid of the glass, and making sure the hotel room was spick and span, he also oversaw a new mirror being put in to the bathroom, and also had medics take care of his boss's hands. All without a word.

Once the work in the hotel room was done, the mirror installed, he waited for the medics to finish before he showed them out. He came back and sat down next to a sheepish Mastermind, and sat there quietly.

"Thank you."

JULIAN: "That's okay. Should I be worried?"

Mastermind looked out in front of him.

"I don't know Julian, I just don't know."

JULIAN: "How's the hand?"

Mastermind looked at it.

"It's sore, but it won't bother me tonight."

JULIAN: "Is it okay to leave you alone?"

"I'm fine now, just a lot of pressure to do with the first round of the Lethal Lottery tournament and having to trust tag team partners right throughout. But thanks Julian."

Julian smiles, and stands, and places his hand on Mastermind's shoulder. He then left the room.

---

The camera fades in to the locker room of Mastermind just minutes before Wednesday Night Warfare is due to get under way and the start of the Lethal Lottery Tournament. Mastermind is seen sitting on a chair, rocking backwards and forwards.

"Well, well, well, TJ Wallace, it seems you took my fucking advice and turned the fuck up and turned in a fucking promo. Good for fucking you. Now I don't have to fucking hunt you down day after fucking day and fucking night, and retaliate for not turning up. Count yourself fucking lucky.

"I see you've got major fucking issues with the idiot Aerial Knight. I've got him on my radar too. But if you want to do the dirty work, so be it. You go get him, and spend your fucking time on him. I'll gladly stand back and watch you do all the fucking work that you want.

"What ever you do Wallace, don't you dare double cross me, you won't like the consequences. So be warned. I know we both want to get through to the second round, so we can either do it tofuckinggether or you be a cunt and double cross me to get your own way. I've said all I need to say on you Wallace. So that's all.

"Goat Face Killa, you called my promos boring. Who the fuck do you think you are to call my promos boring? Do you want a one way trip back to hicks ville? Because you're fucking cruising for a bruising. You haven't got the respect that you need to come up against me, and you call me boring. Who the fuck cares. Because I don't fucking care anymore.

"Instead of following goats, yes I'll rehash this, you fucking follow sheep. You follow them here, you follow them there, and you regurgitate fucking boredom. Enough, stand up for yourself man, grow some goat balls, and start leading your herd into the land of originality. What's that? You don't know where the fuck that is? Just fucking typical. What a fucking baaaastard. Read a map. Go left at hicksville and you'll find it.

"I've come to the conclusion that all 3 of you, Goat Face Killa, Aerial Knight, and even my own tag partner TJ Wallace. You 3 don't fucking care about this tournament. You 3 are all like a sack of potatoes. Heavy but without substance. One promo. One fucking promo, is all you guys have come up with so far, and yet everyone else around you are busting their balls to get further in this tournament. I know my chances of slim because I have Wallace on my side, but come on. Call yourselves a tag team.

"No sorry I digress. You've both just done a second promo. Together. Of all things. Very creative. Ha, Ha, You're learning Goat Face Killa, you found the right hand lane at hicksville, and proceeded to originality, but found creativity first.

"Knight you're a fucking disgrace, even after losing so many fucking times to Gator, you do 1 1/2 promos. That's worse than losing to Gator. You guys may end up doing another promo. But that's fucking pathetic. Pathetic I tell you. You're hearts aren't in it. Don't give me the crap that they are.

"I bleed this place. Bleed I fucking tell you. And I get laughed at. Well laugh no longer. Mastermind means fucking business."

Mastermind stops rocking, gets up, and walks over to the camera, and throws it to the ground. The picture cuts out.