The scene opens in the Wilkins' family living room. Shannon is sitting on one of the couches and has a blanket over her shoulder, their youngest (Chael) has his feet sticking out of the bottom and he is presumably breast feeding. Logan is sitting in the floor in front of his mom, playing some sort of game on a smallish tablet. Shannon is doing something on her iPhone. The camera pans towards the front door as it opens and our very own Deportation Man walks in, breathing heavily...his grey t-shirt soaked in sweat. Shannon looks up from her phone and places it on the cushion next to her.

She can't help but think how bad he still looks. He still has a large goose egg on his forehead as well as several smaller abrasions and bruises on his cheeks. He certainly looks like a man who took a lot of damage just two days ago.

"You probably should've taken the day off hon." Shannon says to her husband.

"I did, I'm not going to the gym. Just some strength and conditioning."

She laughs out loud at her husband's stubbornness and shakes her head "That isn't quite what I meant, I admire your work ethic though."

Ron is already on the ground, his feet hooked under the sofa he begins his sit-ups as he responds to his wife "No need for that, I got a taste of the big time on Saturday and when I get back there I won't have the same result."

"I thought you did great Ron! You took the best shots any of those guys had and were the only one out there not looking to cheat or take the easy way out."

Ron finishes a couple dozen sit ups and begins to talk to his wife from his back while he rests for his next set.

"Yeah that's true, I didn't realize how many of these guys played by the 'if you aren't cheating, you aren't trying' set of rules. Still a loss is a loss and that Kinwrathi freak took advantage of some favorable situations to knock us both out. He was tougher than I thought, hopefully I get to see him again soon."

"I'm sure you will Ron, they put you in that match to prove yourself and that's exactly what you did. Every single man who watched that match knows you belong with the very best in the XWF."

He starts another set as he replies to his wife.

"Thanks Shan, doesn't change the fact that my team lost, and I wasn't even there until the end. Being a tough guy and being a champion are two different things. I don't want my time here to just be about bring tough. I'm going to leave a legacy of greatness behind here. That starts this Sunday Night at Gauntlet City."

"What are you going to do there Ron?"

"I think I'm gonna go for that FTW belt. I'm tired of chairs, stairs, and piss all over my matches. Give me a good clean over the top battle royal."

"So there's a title on the line?"

"Yeah, supposedly there's a nice little win bonus if I can come home with it. Then it's the Gauntlet itself, who knows what the fuck is gonna happen with that one."

"That's everyone right?" Shannon asks.

Ron smiles, pleased that his wife is taking an interest in his career "You got it, that's where I get my chance for some revenge. Kinwrathi, Mystery, Duke, NAZI, James all of those assholes will be there and I hope I get to meet every single one of them one on one. "

Before Shannon can respond the baby begins to whine and stir. Ron decides to skip his third set of sit ups and stands in front of his wife, he extends his arms towards her.

"Give him here."

He slides the infant out from under the blanket and holds him at a eye level.

"Hey big guy! How was that meal?"

The baby smiles and giggles as he hears his fathers voice and the scene fades to black.

--------------One Hour Later------------

We rejoin Ron in his pickup as he pulls into the now familiar to XWF fans parking lot of his Gracie Barra gym. He appears to not be keeping his promise of taking it easy. The camera follows him out of his truck and in through the front doors of the gym.

"Holy shit man, I thought you'd be in the hospital all week." His friend and trainer Jeff exclaims as he walks in the door.

Ron smiles and shakes his head "Fuck no, all that match showed me is I need to be working harder. I should've been able to break some of those guys arms, but they were like damn oxes."

"They sure as hell looked like it, I'm not used to seeing you as the smallest guy anywhere."

"Yeah well they aren't making 'get taller' pills, so I just need to get better. Besides I've already got a chance to make it right, almost the entire roster is doing a single elimination tournament and the odds are pretty good that I'll be matched up with one of those punks again, except they won't be able to outnumber me or sneak up on me from behind."

Before Jeff has the chance to responds the bells on the glass front door rings and an unusual figure enters the small front lobby of the gym.

"Who the fuck..." Jeff is cut off.

"KnightMask?" Ron asks.

Upon seeing the masked man Jeff throws his hands in the air as he exclaims "Oh for fucks sake." and he storms out of the lobby and into the main gym area.

"Ron Wilkins, I hope you don't mind me stopping by your home gym." Ron admires his frankness, addressing a potential issue right away.

"No not at all, we need more high level guys here to be honest. I'm a big fan of some of your work."

"Thank you, and your sensei?"

"Oh he's just a bit of a dick, don't mind him. Just don't wear anything white to roll in or he might cover you in his period blood."

"I fucking heard that asshole." Jeff calls from inside.

Cursing inside the dojo is generally frowned upon so Ron feels a need to explain things. "We're a bit informal here as you can see."

"Yes I noticed that."

"Man it's tough to tell what you're thinking with that thing on. Did you come to train or just to check the place out?" Ron asks the other man.

"To train if its ok. I don't want to impose on how you guys do things here."

"Not at all! That would be great, Jeff and I are the two most advanced guys here. Having another high level guy here would be great!" Ron replies enthusiastically.

"Excellent."

The two men enter the gym where Jeff is already beginning his warm up. Ron jogs onto the mats to begin warming up, KnightMask bows respectfully before entering the padded area.

"Jeff, take a look at who that is. Does that mask bring up any memories? World Championships ringing a bell here?"

A puzzled look followed by a face palm "Holy hell! It's KnightMask! That heel hook you caught on Rod..."

Having seen what transpired last week Ron quickly jumps in "Yeah isn't it great? He's gonna join us today!"

Jeff raises his eyebrows at Ron, annoyed at being interrupted. "Sure, sounds good. Only if you show us that heel hook you used on Rodrigo."

"Damn it Jeff, not a good subject!" Ron exclaims.

"No it's ok, it's never going away so there's no sense pretending it didn't happen." KnightMask replies.

"My apologies, it would be great to have you come roll with us. We don't have a lot of rules here but definitely no masks. You mind taking that off?"

A prolonged moment of awkward silence followed by Jeff cackling loudly. "I'm just kidding! Shit, who would've thought a bunch of guys who wear unitards for a living would be so damn serious?"

All three men share a laugh for a minute before continuing their warm up. Seeing as its his gym, Jeff assumes control and begins rolling with KnightMask, leaving Ron to get a light work out in. Ron does a few sets of pull ups as he studies the "Master of Leg Locks". His movements are almost spastic but he's always searching for a finish, always trying to end the match. Jeff keeps his calm, rolling with the various leg locks and searching for openings of his own. The two men continue for a decent amount of time and both are breathing heavily as they roll off the mats and onto the hardwood where the strength and conditioning equipment is.

"That'll do for me. Have fun Ron." Jeff gasps as he waves The Deportation Man onto the mats.

Ron takes his time making his way to the center of the mat "Take your time KnightMask, I'd like you fresh."

KnightMask either doesn't hear him or doesn't care and he trots to the center of the mat and squares off against the larger man. Ron's advantage in the wrestling department is immediately apparent as he quickly secures a double leg takedown but from there it's a blur of activity. Both men have a constantly attacking philosophy which compliments the others style nicely.

The two men trade a submission a piece. Ron locks up an Americana after transitioning to side control and KnightMask secures a front rolling kneebar several minutes later. The two men battle to a stalemate for another ten minutes, both inches away from securing that last crucial step on several occasions. Sometimes it's Ron's strength and size advantage that proves the difference, other times KnightMask's speed and technique.

Sensing that this could last all day and not wanting to see a fatigue related injury, Jeff steps in to separate them and the two men bow before beginning a light cool down. For once Ron doesn't bolt for the weights and strikes up a conversation with his new training partner.

"Thanks for stopping by KnightMask. I really enjoyed that."

"My pleasure, we will have to do this again sometime. Of course you'll come to my gym in the future?"

"Definitely." Ron responds.

"Have you made your plans for Gauntlet City?" KnightMask inquires.

"Yeah, I like the sounds of that battle royal and then of course I will be in the Gauntlet. You?"

"Wise choice, taking the first match gives you some extra time to rest. I'm contemplating taking this one off, I've been keeping very busy lately."

"No doubt, you deserve it." Ron replies.

What Ron is really thinking is "Thank God, one less talented opponent to worry about." New friend or not, he is still very pragmatic at heart. The two men stretch and chat for a few more minutes before bowing and stepping off the mats.

All three men say their goodbyes, Ron leaves and heads out the front doors to his truck. As he unlocks and then opens the door he notices something sitting on his seat. It's a small, skeletal figurine carrying a sickle. A Santa Muerte idol, the Patron Saint of Cartel members and drug smugglers. The same people he used to chase around the desert and trade gunfire with. The same people who operate with near immunity on both sides of the border, thinking nothing of wiping out an entire family if it suits their needs and desires. Ron's stomach sinks as he picks up the piece of paper the statue is holding down and reads it (the words are translated from Spanish for our viewers convienence).

For our beloved Deportation Man,
We will be seeing you and yours soon.
With Love,
The Juarez Cartel

Ron tosses the paper back in his truck and runs to the street in front of the gym.

Nothing looks unusual at the moment.

Nearing hysteria, Ron runs back to his truck. He is already peeling out of the parking lot as he calls Shannon. A wave of relief crashes over him as she picks up on the third ring. He takes a deep breath, not trying to panic her just yet.

"Hey babe everything ok?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Shannon responds, sounding slightly annoyed.

"No reason, see you soon. Love you guys."

He tosses the phone on the seat next to him and the scene fades as he speeds down the back roads of El Paso with a look of grim determination etched on his face.

Send anyone you want, but don't send anyone you want back.