Daniel is standing on top of the stage, overlooking the arena around him. His hands are bare, the dry skin on his fingers rubbing against each other as he ponders. There's a clear concern in his face, with the marks of a tired soul outlining his eyes. His eyes usually circle to the ring, and to the top rope where he had Chokeslammed Cam Lang to win the title. A title that seems like a jackal in the distance, taunting him with its glamour and glory. The title that was once his, but one stupid mistake was all it took for it to be whisked away.

Out of the curtain steps Steve Sayors, along with a camera crew. He slowly and silently walks to the side of Daniel. He has his mic ready and up to his lips. He begins to speak slowly and cautiously.

Smoke, I don't know what you must be feeling at this time, but I re-

Daniel cuts him off, putting his hand in Steve's face. He's still looking out into the stands when he turns his hand to silently ask for the mic. Steve hands it to him carefully and then walks out of shot. Daniel stands there with the mic in his outstretched hand for a couple of seconds before twisting it so it's under his lips. He begins to speak in a croaky and worn-out voice.

I don't know what's gotten into my head.

Last Wednesday it seemed like I was on top of the world. I had won the belt that I felt would skyrocket my career, but a rookie mistake cost me that. Now that it's gone, and now that I don't have it, I seem to have been torn apart. At the last Shove-It I chose to focus on Jonny Rebel, to exact revenge, but look how far that got me. Not only did I lose because of my choice to go after him, but he was the one to eliminate me.

I let the mixture of denial, anger, and vengeance consume me in a way that I had previously thought I would not allow. But I had allowed it. So instead of focusing on the bigger picture, as in the Television Title, I let my own guard down, and paid the price for that. Thankfully I wasn't stung by a jellyfish or kidnapped by a spider, so I guess that's a plus.

Daniel lets himself chuckle at that joke before continuing.

And then we have this Wednesday's encounter. At first, I was originally planning on taking the week off to re-charge my batteries and what not, but management made an offer I couldn't refuse. One more chance. The last change I get to take the title home. It isn't a straight-up match for the belt itself, but it is a #1 Contender shot. And guess who's the referee.

Jonny Freakin' Rebel.

He rubs his eyes and throat with his free hand. It's clear that he's had a lack of sleep over this whole ordeal, and now it's taking its toll. He clears his throat a little bit, and continues speaking in his ruffled way.

If anything, I'm worried about myself. Knowing that he'll be the referee is leaving me struggling because at the end of the day, he'll be calling the shots. And he'll be the one to crown the winner.

Daniel drifts his focus away. His sleep-ridden mind is overpowering his attempts to focus. He lowers the mic a little and turns it to Steve. Steve takes it from him as Daniel stumbles backstage. Leaving Steve with the camera crew.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, that was Smoke Man. The former, and... perhaps, future, X-Treme Champion.

Steve does all the formalities of promoting the up-coming Warfare and yadda-yadda-yadda to close off the scene.