As the increasingly familiar sound of rumbling thunder fills the air, we see Dark Cloud sitting on a table in a library. He is again seen in his familiar Under Armour. He looks relaxed but focused; the calm look in his eyes belies the fiery intensity that rages within him. He speaks slowly, deliberately, softly:

We are here. The eve of Wednesday Warfare, the night before I begin to make my rise. Tomorrow night, I will show every last one of you what I am and what I can do. I will.

Make no mistake about it, I do not underestimate my opponents. Their dismissive attitudes toward me aside, I have been watching them closely and I know what they are capable of doing. But they won’t do enough. I will come out on top because there is simply no other way this can happen. The forecast calls for a steady rain. I will be there to carry out that forecast – and I can guarantee that it will go poorly for those who would stand against me.

As I look upon my opponents, I see weakness. Andrew Aldway – while it is admirable that you are trying to pull your pathetic life together after your stint at Rikers, a short time in the ring with me is going to make you wish you were sharing a sensual shower with your big, loving, 300-pound cellmate instead. But first, let’s take a walk through history, shall we?

I find it very apropos that we will meet on Wednesday Warfare. As I browse through the annals of years gone by, history is littered with examples of American supremacy over the British. We kicked your asses out of our country in the American Revolution and again in the War of 1812. We bailed your asses out of speaking German both in World War I and World War II. It is only fitting that I should have the great opportunity to kick another British ass in New York, the original capital of the United States of America, on the eve of the 237th anniversary of our independence from King George and from Britain.

And then we have Reaper and Alex, a real pair of weirdos who think that always being in a dim room and drinking tomato juice from a chalice is going to intimidate their opposition. But as awkward as it is, I will defeat both of you. Though I might feel funny eliminating what amounts to a couple of teenage girls with an effed up fantasy, you have made your beds and now you must lay in them. You try so hard to intimidate and to mortify, but all anybody wants to do is give you both some ADHD medication and tell you to stop watching scary movies with the lights turned off.

Tomorrow night, Warfare will be upon us. Tomorrow night, I shall prevail.

The camera fades to black as Dark Cloud looks ahead intently, focusing only on what he must do tomorrow night…