The shot opens on The Engineer in his den. Behind him is a glass case. The top shelf currently houses his Universal Championship. There's also a couple bowling trophies and a grade school perfect attendance award with some other kid's name scribbled out and replaced with “Engy”.

Oh, and right at eye level with the camera, a big old vacant space with a dust outline where the Tag Team Championships used to be.

Nah. I ain't mad.

Engy's sitting next to the case in a satin robe, smoking a stogie.

No, honestly. I don't blame you for what happened with the tag belts. I of all people totally understand that life sometimes serves you a shit sandwich and says “bon apetit”! I know that if Michael Graves could have, he would have helped defend those belts fist, tooth and nail. Ya see Gravy, you don't need to convince me how good you are. I know. It's why I picked you. And even though your recent record may be a bit...uneven....the thing that separates you from the Finn Kuhn's of the world is that you actually HAVE a place to hang your hat. You've accomplished things. And more recent unsteadiness can't erase that.

I take you very, very seriously. And, if you'll allow me to continue the love-in for a bit....I respect you too, dolly. In fact, out of all the Top 50 guys still active in the XWF, you're probably my personal fave.

Engy takes a drag from the stogie and shoots a look back at the case. The smoke passes through his lips and out his nose, making it look a bit like he's breathing fire.

Which makes it all the more heartbreaking that I have to leave the high road and say..... “ya done fucked up.”

I mean, picture this Gravy: I pick you after an exhaustive selection process to be co-champs with me. But, in a cruel twist of fate, you get sidelined. Out of desperation I pick my son (who hates me) to go to war with Chaos and Gilmour, and I lose the straps to a couple mid-tier fuck sacks in what would have been a cake walk for us if you'd been 100%. A tragedy to be sure.

But lo! Who's that on the horizon?!

Engy props his hand above his eyes like a sun visor.

IT'S MICHAEL GRAVES TO THE RESCUE! He makes a HUGE return, reteams with Engy and makes those scrubs suck shit through a straw to win back the tag team championships. The people cheer and sob tears of joy. Cosmic balance is restored. And we reign over that whole division forever.

Now THAT's an ending!

But it's not what happened, is it?

Engy stabs the stogie out right on the arm rest of the chair.

Instead, what we got was you returning in some cartoonish secret identity angle courtesy of Cadryn “I develop a new super power or remember I love cock whenever I need to become relevant again” Tiberius. Now, okay...OKAY! Maybe I still got a lingering hate boner for the guy because he used to be fluffer-supreme for the most toxic faction in XWF's recent history. But even that notwithstanding he's a grade-A flake compared with a guy like me who's consistency is damn near superhuman.

So I guess my prevailing feeling here is..... “What in the actual FUCK?”

Did you not want the near guaranteed win that being partners with me would entail? Were you turned off by the fact that I lost the tag straps in what was basically a handicap match with a mystery opponent? I mean....

….what the FUCK?

He stammers it out again, looking flustered, before finally toning it down with a sigh.

Mistakes were made, Gravy. Mostly by you. But yeah, I DID lose the tag championships. That one's all me. So what say we let this wash right under the bridge. Baby, I'm willing to take you back. No questions asked. And I promise to not passive aggressively throw this in your face the next time we argue about something stupid like buying new drapes or when the anniversary of the first time we accidentally wore each other's tights is.

And hey, you can even pretend to be a little ugly bald guy if you want! So long as you bring copious amounts of ass kicking to the ring you can dress up like the Duchess of York for all I give a fuck.

Engy extends his arms out for a hug, and makes a pronounced pouty face. He beckons Gravy into the hug. The camera obliges, drawing in uncomfortably close to The Universal Champion. Engy wraps his arms around the camera and makes a contended little sound.

This just feels right.

Finally, Engy releases the embrace and the camera backs up again.

Doesn't that feel better? I know it does boo. But one more thing? Please don't assume this means I'm gonna take it easy on you either. Because if you haven't paid attention, I'm kinda collecting Top 50 guys. And you would make a WONDERFUL addition to the list. Nothing personal, just business! But yeah. And I promise not to stick your name under Gilmour's. Nobody deserves that.

Engy curves his fingers together into a heart shape and smiles in that bizarre, hard to read way that he's so good at.

Toodles!