It's another cold day in downtown Anchorage, Alaska. It's December, Christmas time, but there isn't that much joy going around. The city looks drab and gray, mostly because of a surprising lack of snow this year. Most of downtown is quiet tonight, as many people are staying home due to the weather, but there is still activity about. The sounds of a punching bag being pummeled, its chain veering on the breaking point, are coming from the Anchorage Coliseum, the gym of choice for Mike Emerick. The gym has improved since XWF's short hiatus, as much of Emerick's paycheck went to improving the gym. The gym now has actual windows without bars, making the place a bit more inviting, and the workout equipment has improved. For example, there are now twelve treadmills, which was a step up from the original single treadmill, but at the moment, there are only two men in the building, Mike Emerick and the owner of the gym as well as Mike's personal trainer, Tony Murrow.  

"Come on Mike!" Tony exclaims, "Show no mercy! Kick that 's teeth in! Make'em bleed Mike!"

Mike Emerick strikes the Punching Bag with a barrage of rights, lefts, and kicks. It seems a lot has changed since we last saw M.E. Mike Emerick is wearing UFC style gloves along with the same style of shorts and a sleeveless shirt. He also has a more serious and determined look in his eyes, a far cry from his usual cocky self. He also looks stronger then ever, way better then when we last saw him after his career shortening War Games match when he preformed a moonsault from the top of the barbed cage unto the mass of humanity below. Suddenly there is a knock at the door.

"Who the bloody hell can that be?" Tony steams, "Don't they know the gym is closed to the public at this time?" He looks back at M.E, "Keep it going Mike, I'll handle this,"

Tony walks to the door and opens it, revealing XWF interviewer Steve Sayors.

"Hello there!" Sayors says in a cheerful tone, "I heard reports Mr. Emerick was training in this very building, is that true? I want to ask him a few questions about his return to the XWF,"

Tony responds as his usual bitter self, "You're damn right he's training in here, and that's why you shouldn't be here right now! Me and Mike Emerick allow NO interruptions in his training, especially for something as major as his return! Now scram!"

"Oh... all right then," Sayors sputters, a bit saken from the old man's viciousness, "I'll just go,"

Suddenly a voice rings out from inside the building, "Leave him alone Tony!" Mike Emerick shouts, "I'm the one who invited him here!"

"Really?" Tony responds, surprised, "How come you didn't tell me?"

"Look old friend," Mike Emerick says in a calming tone, "I have some things I want to get off of my chest, and I would like to do that alone, alright?'

"Alright then Mike, but when you're done it's back to training!"

"Gotcha T," Mike then motions Tony to go to his office. Tony looks at him reluctantly and then leaves, leaving Mike Emerick and Steve Sayors.

"Thanks Mr. Emerick," Sayors says relieved, "So what the XWF Universe wants to know is..."

Mike Emerick then shuts his mouth with his finger, "Look Steve, I don't really care what you or the "XWF Universe" have to say, It only matters what M.E has to say. So give M.E the mic and, I don't know, go to Tony's office and talk about getting a gym membership," Mike Emerick then snickers, "Heaven knows you need some muscle mass!"

"Okay..." Sayors says, a little pissed HIS interview is being taken over, but knowing he can't do anything about it. He hands the mic over to Mike, who then rips it out of his hands and scowls at him. Steve Sayors quickly runs off to the office of Tony, fearing for his life. Mike Emerick then sighs and looks at the camera, mic in hand.

"You know, the holidays are a time of much change," Emerick begins, "And it's no different for M.E. You see, over these few months while XWF was closed, I was thinking about my past actions. Quite frankly, I was a dumbass. From my dumb mistake of revealing my embarrassing story of how I was inspired to be a wrestler, to my pathetic attempts to lead the Dangerous Alliance, and of course doing a MOONSAULT OFF THE FUCKING CAGE AT WAR GAMES!" M.E takes a deep breath and regains his composure, "I thought, "How could M.E make such rookie mistakes?" and then I realized, I was a victim of my own success. My success in other promotions filled me with pride. It made me feel like I was the king of the world. It made me feel invincible. I had grown so used to the fancy parties, the expensive champagne, the worship, the sex, I forgot what got M.E those things in the first place, but when I had to be strenchered out at War Games, when I lost so much blood the doctors were thinking the worst, when no one, not even my teammates that night had the decency to check on M.E, when I couldn't get the taste of bannana out of my mouth for three whole weeks, I remembered everything. I remembered the chip on my shoulder. I remembered my drive to be the best at something. I remembered my desire to make a name for myself. I remembered my desire to prove my critics AND my drunken father wrong," Mike Emerick pauses for a bit, remembering his fathers abuse and the horrible things he said to him and his family, and then continues, "I remembered what got me to XWF in the first place! This company does not want M.E, it wants a true force of nature. It wants a game changer. It wants a apex predator, and that apex is M.E. I've been training for a while now, almost 24 hours a day. I have stopped visiting women and going to clubs to get wasted and have completely devoted myself to be the best, bar none. I've changed my fighting style and my mindset, but one thing hasn't changed. I'll still say shit to piss people off, I'm still the cocky son of a bitch I know you love to hate, but now instead of just saying "It's all about M.E" I'm going to prove to ALL of you why it's all about M.E! I will destroy and humiliate all who stand in my way, be it Vinny Lane, the make believe Champion, Bijorn, that dickless Viking fuck who wants to see me fucked by his cousin, that bit bitch Gamer Girl, that Tholomew Plague, the undefeated Morbid Angel, or even the currant and true champion Trax, It doesn't matter! You're all in my sights! As for the Dangerous Alliance, the only person I need in my corner is Tony, so you guys can just smoke blunts and jack off with Dean McGovern and, if you know what's best for you, stay out of my goddamn way. This is a new M.E, this is the new alpha male, this is XWF's Apex," Mike Emerick then shouts at Tony's office, "Alright Stevie boy, you can have your mic back!"

Steve Sayors then stumbles out of the office, with a gym card and Tony Murrow looking on behind him. He carefuly walks over to Mike Emerick and gingerly takes the mic out of his hand. Steve then suddenly makes a beeline for the doors, but Mike Emerick grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him back,

"You're forgetting something," Mike Emerick says in an intimidating tone,

"Tha.. thank you Mr. Emerick," Sayors stammers out,

"No problem," Mike Emerick says in an amused tone, letting go of Steve Sayors. Sayors then runs right for the door, bumps into it like a cartoon character, opens it and runs like a bat out of hell out of the Alaskan Coliseum. Tony Murrow then walks up to M.E, this time with some concern in his voice "I heard what you were saying, still not over your father huh?"

Mike Emerick then turned around. Tony was right, he wasn't over it, but he couldn't show it. If he did, that would prove everything his father said right, and Mike Emerick swore the day his father was right about him he would kill himself, so M.E put on a fake smile and said, "I just was thinking of what else to say, I have been focusing more on wrestling than promo skills lately you know,"

"Gotcha," Tony replied, knowing Mike was lying, but deciding it would be best to leave it at that, "Well, you had a good break, back to training you bum!"

Tony smiled again, for real this time, "Ok T, what do you have for me now?" Both trainer and trainee walked over to the training area, getting prepared for the next grueling exercise.

The end is nigh