Andrew is pacing back and forth in a small room, complete with a table cluttered with various items, muttering to himself something that can't be heard. Suddenly, he stops and puts his finger up.

"No, no that won't do."

He goes back to frantically pacing, and muttering, seemingly getting more upset by the minute as he begins talking faster and his voice gets loud enough to be audible.

"Those worthless gits, they honestly think they're going to win on Wednesday. Despite all my best efforts to show the prats they don't have a chance in hell, a church, or in limbo, they still walk around and talk as if they actually have a chance. HA!"

He stops again for a moment, but shakes his head and continues.

"How could I possibly convince these duffers they're wasting their time making their idiotic homosexual fantasies come to life. Or trying to convince people who think that they're some entity who tries to scare people with some green screens, that he's not worth the cheap fabric used to make his cloak. Or even by standing next to a fire and bragging about their past accomplishments, like me or anyone else really gives a rat's arse about any of it."

There's a knock, and Andrew walks to the opposite side of the room opens the door and Steve Sayors is seen standing outside with a cameraman in tow.

"Mr. Aldway, are you ready for your interview?"

Andrew scratches his chin, as if pondering the question, for several seconds while Steve looks at him, awaiting his reply.

"Mr. Aldway?"

"Ok, ok I got it, come in."

He motions for Steve to come inside, and he and the cameraman step into the small room. Andrew straightens out his jacket, as Steve steps next to him and puts the microphone to his mouth, and motions to the cameraman to start rolling.

"Ladies and gentlemen for the second time in a week I'm here with Andrew Aldway, getting ready for his debut in an over the top battle royal. Mr. Aldway, I have to ask you, with all the awkward, odd, and generally creepy things your opponents have been saying and doing, what exactly is your game plan going into Wednesday night?"

Steve puts the microphone to Andrew's face, he just stands there staring at the wall behind Steve, zoned out, a few moments go by and still nothing. Steve raises his eyebrows at Andrew but he doesn't acknowledge the gesture, so Steve looks at the cameraman and makes a cut signal with his hand.

"Andrew, we're trying to do an interview here, you ok?"

"Ya sure Steve, I'm fine, ready whenever you are."

Steve gives him an odd look, but looks at the cameraman and motions for him to start rolling.

"Ladies and gentlemen for the second time in a week I'm here with Andrew Aldway, getting rea....."

Andrew holds up his hand and stops Steve in mid sentence. He motions for the microphone and Steve obligingly hands it over.

"Listen here you bunch of gits, I've come to realize that nothing I say can stop the stupidity coming from you three, so instead of trying to explain your stupidity to you let me show you how stupid you all look."

He walks over to the table and picks up a remote, he points it to a wall, presses a button and a green screen rolls out. He presses another button and a group of dark clouds show up on the screen complete with lightning and thunder sound effects. He walks over and stands in front of the screen.

"Blah, blah, I've come to suck your blood, and take your souls, and do other paranormal things that have nothing to do with wrestling, blah."

He laughs and points the remote to the wall, causing the screen to roll back up to the ceiling.

"But wait that's not all!"

He walks back over to the table and knocks everything on the table to the floor, then bends over and picks something up.

"I liked this one too."

He reveals what he picked up, a Zippo lighter, which he flicks causing it to spring into a flame, then quickly throws it on the table he just cleared. As the table lights up like a candle he puts his head down and crosses his hands as Steve runs out and down the hallway.

"God I'm so depressed, I wish I could go back to my glory days when people actually knew and cared about me, boo hoo my past there this, waah, waah, my future here that. I'm different, I think I can act British, I think I'M the superior one because I was born into this business, I'm dark and mysterious, I have a lust for things that would have had me burnt at the stake a hundred years ago. Ok that's all fine and dandy, now try....."

He is interrupted by Steve running back in the room with a fire extinguisher, and dousing the table.

"YOU BLOODY TWIT, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

Steve doesn't say anything just puts down the extinguisher and wipes the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

"You know what, never mind, I still have one more thing and you can be in it, so I know you won't mess it up."

He grasps Steve by both shoulders and pulls him to the center of the room. He looks toward the cameraman, a scrawny young man who looks like he just got out of college.

"You too chap, stand beside him."

The cameraman hesitates for a moment and doesn't move.

"Give me the bloody camera ya stupid yank and stand next to him."

He walks over to the cameraman and takes the camera from his shoulder, placing it on his own. The young man slowly walks toward then stands next to Steve.

"Now face eachother."

The two slowly turn and face eachother as Andrew gets in front of them with the camera.

"Hold hands."

Sayors and the young man look at him like he must be crazy, and shake their heads no in unison.

"That wasn't a question, hold his bloody hands or I'LL SMASH YOU BOTH WITH THIS CAMERA!"

The two men look at eachother hesitantly, then Steve holds out his hands and the cameraman grabs them.

"Much better, so we are gathered here today to lay witness to these to potato mashers, yadda, yadda, yadda, I now pronounce you husband and husband, you may kiss your lover."

The two men just continue to stare blankly at him.

"I SAID KISS YA INGORANT PRATS!"

Steve looks up with a pitiful look of mercy on his face, the young man closes his eyes and puckers his lips, leaning towards Steve. He gives Andrew one last pleading look the turns and pecks the cameraman on the lips, and both quickly turn away.

"Thank you gentlemen, you can leave now."

Both men rush out the door leaving Andrew with the camera which he now turns onto himself.

"Do you see what type of fairytale, soap opera crap I have to put up with? But it's okay I know it's hard to be entertaining these days, I mean I even have to use your crappy ideas just to show you all how pathetic and boring you are, although I must say I made them much more entertaining than any of you could dream to. Well ladies and gentlemen, this has been the Barmy Brit and if you want to sue over creative licensing the name's Alexander Aldway, and remember not only am I more entertaining than any of you, but I'm just better than all of you and not because im British, because I'm me. Cherrio yanks."

He winks into the camera and throws it against the wall, causing it to break into about ten pieces, and strolls out of the room laughing to himself.