Centurion’s return to the title scene was more than successful at Ice & Fire, as Centurion defeated longtime for Edward in a grueling Coal Miner’s Glove match to win his third Anarchy Title. In his younger days, he would take this moment to go all out on his celebration - liquor, girls, gambling, all of it. It would have been a party of epic proportions, and anyone in the general vicinity of him at that time would be treated to a free night out that they would never forget.

However, his party crew now consists of his daughter, his future daughter in law, and his nerdy girlfriend. So the celebration is…slightly different.

We open up at the PA Renaissance Faire in Manheim, Pennsylvania. There, we see the four previously mentioned characters in slightly different outfits. Ruby is dressed like a rogue ranger, with a green cloak that covers her head and goes all the ground. Nellie is dressed like a warrior, complete with a helm and long, brown leather boots with a knife holster attached to it. Erin is dressed as a medieval bar wench, showing off as much skin as possible, which is less than ideal in the cold November air.

And then there's Centurion, who is just in regular street clothes with a black peacoat covering almost everything.

As faire goers walk around and the sound of Renaissance era Christmas music plays in the background, we see the four standing at a bar.

“I bet you're regretting your choices right now.” Centurion says to Erin, who is bouncing up and down in order to maintain some level of warmth.

“Mistakes have been made.” Erin quickly responds in a voice that is filled with regret.

Centurion glances over at Nellie, who sighs and shakes her head. “I told you it was going to be cold.” Nellie says to Erin. “Besides, it's the end of November. Of course it's going to be cold.”

“Oh, I knew what I was in for.” Erin responds rather frankly. “But sometimes you have to make sacrifices in order to look hot, ya know? My choices were either to cover up the goodies or get hypothermia, and I can recover from hypothermia, so…”

Nellie just puts her head down on the bar in shame as the bartender hands three drinks to the crew - one to Cent, one to Nellie, and one to Erin. He also passed a shot of whiskey to the three of them, and they all pick their shot glasses up.

“A toast!” Centurion exclaims, as he lifts his shot in the air and turns towards the rest of the group. “To our driver.”

Everyone cheers as Centurion pats Ruby on the back and the other three hit their shots together and down them. Immediately after, Nellie kisses Ruby on the cheek as Erin starts to cough at the strength of the whiskey.

“Thanks again for this, Rubes!” Nellie says, joyfully. “I really didn't want some creeper in an Uber driving us around all week.”

“It's fine!” Ruby cheerfully responds. “I'm happy to do it. You're letting me do something I wanted to do, so it's only right to let you do something you want to do.”

The bartender grabs the bottle of whiskey and immediately begins to pour three more shots. “So, which of you is payin?”

“What do you mean, ‘who’s paying?!’” Centurion says in a flabbergasted tone as he steps back from the bar and unbuttons his coat. “Whatcha think about this?!” Centurion throws his coat open and shows off his newly won XWF Anarchy Title.

Centurion stands, smiling, as he looks around, expecting applause or some kind of comment. Instead, he is met with a see of faces - one, the bartender's, looking incredibly confused, and the other three with their head in their hands. “Yeah…I'm paying.” Nellie says, embarrassingly, as she sets her wallet down on the bar. Centurion, seeing no one is indulging in his fun, frowns and buttons his coat back up.

“You guys are no fun.” Centurion says with a frown as he steps back up to the bar. He takes a sip of his drink before picking up the newly poured shot. “Can I toast to our newly won title? Or have we decided that it's lame now?”

“IT’S not lame.” Nellie explains. “YOU’RE lame.”

“To Cent being lame!” Erin yells out. The rest of the crew cheers as they raise their shot glasses. Centurion just sighs as he reluctantly raises his shot, as well, and the three down their shots. Erin, once again, lets out a wretch as she quickly takes a sip of her drink.

“You know, you don't have to drink that.” Centurion says, concerned for Erin’s health. “Or you can take a shot of something else.”

“Nah.” Erin is able to gasp out before coughing. She shakes her body a bit, then regathers herself and stands at the bar again. “No, it's good. It's warming me up. Couple more of these and I'll be ready to go for a swim.”

As Erin is talking, Nellie's cell phone goes off. She takes a glance at who is calling, then steps away from the bar as she answers the call. Centurion, meanwhile, continues to needle Erin.

“Couple more of those and you'll be lying face down in a cow field.” Centurion says as he grabs his drink and goes for a sip.”

“Oh, no. I'll never do that again.” Erin responds, causing Centurion to stop in his tracks. He glances over at Erin, attempting to gather whether or not she's joking, but Erin’s face remains stoic and serious. Centurion's eyes widen as he looks over at Ruby, who just shrugs.

“You've lived an interesting life, Erin.” Ruby says in a curious voice. “I can't tell if I want to know more about you, or…not.”

“I think it's best that you probably don't.” Erin cringes. “You're like, a cute little cinnamon roll, and some of the stuff I've done in the past could make your toes curl.”

“Cinnamon roll?” Ruby asks as Nellie walks back over to the bar.

“Hey, so uh…” Nellie starts to talk to the crew and lets out a slight laugh. “That was George from the XWF.”

“George from accounting?” Centurion asks.

“No, George from talent relations.” Nellie answers. “Apparently, there's been a pretty major change made to your match with Dionysus next week…”

—---I Have Been Ready—---

“What drives people to push themselves beyond the boundaries of their preconceived limits?”

The sound of Centurion's voice can be heard as he walks forward into the light. Nothing else is visible around him.

“Is it passion? Desire for greatness? Financial reward? A fear of failure? Or is it simply a lack of self preservation instincts?

It's the question everyone asks themselves when they first engage in an activity that is dangerous. They may not do it out loud. They may not even do it self-consciously. But everyone does it. The mind has to give itself a reason to push itself past the breaking point.

For me, it's simple. It's the adulation.”

Centurion walks forward and stands in front of a table. On the table are various weapons - knives, axes, wrenches, all sorts of plunder that can cause bodily harm to another human being. Centurion grins as he looks at all that is in front of him.

“Many folks get into this business and say they don't care about the cheers and the boos. Well, I do. Knowing a crowd, who paid money, is hanging on every action and movement I perform in the ring brings a certain level of serotonin to my brain. Maybe that makes me a romantic, or perhaps a born entertainer.

Or maybe that just makes me a narcissist. I don't know - many therapists have made a lot of money off me and they can't even figure it out. What I do know, though, is that when my hand was raised and that Anarchy Title was handed over to me…

I liked it. I liked it a lot. I liked it as much as I liked winning every other title belt in my 22 year career. The glory, the adulation - it never gets old to me. It's why I can't walk away from this business. Nothing I can do ever replaces that feeling. And you know what would really get me going?

To have a pay per view designed by ME.”

Centurion picks up a dagger from the table and runs the blade across the table, allowing the sound of the metal to echo around him.

“And I have ideas. Oh, do I have ideas. Exciting, money making ideas that will go down in history and last a lifetime in the minds of wrestling fans everywhere. The best thing that could happen to the XWF and get it jump started back to the greatness it once had would be to allow me to design a show; however, I have to get there first.

Which brings me back to my original question - what drives people to push themselves beyond their limits? I don't know…but you're going to need to find that out, Dionysus.”

Centurion takes the knife and slams it, blade first, into the table, causing the knife to stick vertically into the table.

“At Fire & Ice, I spoke with brutality. I battered Edward, someone I have been fighting with for years, and left him broken and bloody. At the end of it all, he earned my respect, but we needed to go through the paces first. We needed that brutality in order to get past the animosity and get to a point where I can exist in the same universe as him.

I don't really have that issue with you, Dionysus. I don't hate you. I don't even dislike you. Hell, I think you're a relatively cool dude. I've had nothing but positive experiences with you, even though we've never really sat down and had a conversation or anything like that. You're a decent human being in a world full of assholes. That's honorable.

And I can't say I don't respect you, because I've seen what you can do - not just in the XWF, but across the professional wrestling industry. You're good. You're really good. Hell, I can see you holding the Universal Title someday, and I've been really good at predicting that - just ask Sarah Lachlan or Raion Kido. As a matter of fact, if I can't beat you, then I don't know if anyone does before you get your five title defenses under your belt. Literally the only thing standing between you and the Universal Title is me.

And that really sucks for you.”

Centurion flicks the dagger, causing the metal to ting and ring into the night air.

“See, I understand what's at stake in this match, and the fact that it's an Xtreme Rules match only makes it so everything I can do is within the legal confines of the match. And I know, if people look at you and they look at me, they wouldn't ever consider me to be the one that's handy with weapons, but trust me - I've won the Xtreme Title six times, and you don't do that by being timid. I have spilled pints - GALLONS - of blood in that ring, and the older I get, the more the high flying, flippy-doos go out the window and the need to just bash someone with a fucking chair rises.

I like to think of myself as a good guy, but years in this business has turned me into a grumpy old man, whereas you, Dionysus, despite your outward appearance, are a cuddly teddy bear. Sure, a teddy bear that will shank you if you let your guard down, but a teddy bear nonetheless. I don't know what your limit is, Dionysus, but I know you have one, and I know it's much lower than mine, especially when you consider what's on the line.

The Xtreme Title? A chance to curate a pay per view? Are you kidding me? There isn't a professional wrestler on the planet who wouldn't dive all in at that opportunity. And I must say, if there's one thing I love more than being a champion, it's being a DOUBLE champion. It hasn't happened often. I can only name a handful of times when I was able to carry two belts at once, but HOLY FUCK is it a rush. If you've never done it, I highly suggest doing it. It's a great time.

When next Sunday morning rolls around, I know the two of us are going to be lying in our beds - separately, I hope - in a lot of pain with some well places bandages on our bodies, and the first thought that's going to come to our minds is “wow, what a match.” We have that ability in us, Dionysus. I definitely know I do, and I've seen you do it. We're the true main event of the show, no matter how many Barney Greens that have running down that aisle. The only problem is, one of us is going to be lying there, disappointed in the opportunity that slipped through our fingers. Now ask yourself this, Dionysus, just based on what you know about me and my history - what do you HONESTLY think is more likely to happen? That I will be walking around with my head down, moping because I wasn't able to bag a championship? Or that you'll be lying there, back feeling a little tighter than normal, thinking about how it felt to meet your….