(Spoiler Warning: This post references the results of the 9/1 Warfare)

As they arrive back at the locker room, NKWC is paraded backstage, weaving two index fingers through the air in tune with his band, playing the anthem of the DPRK.

Kato, who has been sitting and watching the feed, spins to face his commander. He bows, very stoically, only allowing the smallest smile across his face.

"An impressive victory, commander. You have truly sh-"

NKWC wraps his arms around his second-in-command and embraces him.

"Thank you, Kato. I could not have done it without you."

...

Kato immediately begins weeping with pride, losing any semblance of composure.

"Well, I could have, of course. but it would have been slightly more difficult."

Kato squeezes him in a hug, completely ignoring the reeling back of the kindness.

"C-c-commander, I-I-I have never been prouder to serve!"

NKWC laughs with his confidante, before walking and shakes the hand of each of his band, as they beam with pride.

The last through the curtain is Flynn, cradling his neck after Dolly dropped him over the top rope. NKWC lights up and makes a beeline through the crowd of admirers to him.

NKWC meets Flynn, who is of heavy breath, trying to rotate his shoulder back out of its soreness...

NK moves to his side and lifts Flynn's arm. The North Korean entourage very politely applauds.

Flynn slips his arm out of NK's grip.

NK wags a finger, mock-shaming his humility.

"Coach Mark Flynn! Allow us to recognize you. We would not have won without your isolation strategy, worthy of Phil Jackson and his Chicago Bulls of their day!"

Flynn smiles, but waves off the praise.

"NK, we wouldn't have won without you pulling that dragon sleeper counter. That wasn't an accident. Dolly & LSM took it to us and you pulled it out. You've come a long way."

Flynn holds his thumb an index finger an inch apart.

"You've earned a little..."

Flynn pauses, then presses his fingers together together to only be a quarter-inch apart.

"A VERY SMALL AMOUNT... of basking in it."

Flynn then, takes NK's arm and raises it. Once again, NK's men hoop and holler with adulation and begin playing his anthem all over again.

Suddenly, NK's 2003 Motorola Razr rings. NK glances at the screen and gasps.

"Central Command! Silence!"

They mutter quietly, still in a good mood.

"SILENCE WORMS!"

They fall completely silent. Flynn rolls his eyes. NK opens his flip phone.

"Ah, Central Command. I trust you are calling to congratulate my latest performance."

NK laughs.

"Haha, yes, indeed. An incredible counter. I believe my coach mentioned only a master greater than he could have pulled it off."

NK gives Flynn a thumbs up. Flynn has taken to pretending to crush NK's head by putting his fingers up close to his eye and smashing his fingertips together.

"Yes, thank you! I cannot wait to see the Korean broadcast of my match!"

...

NK's smile fades.

"What do you mean? How can you say it's unusable? We won!"

...

"What do you mean the editing team can't do anything with it? They can't use me winning legitimately?!?"

...

NK pounds his fist against a locker.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DIDN'T LOOK STRONG ENOUGH?!?"

***

An XWF news correspondent leans into his ear, before looking forward into the camera.

"This Just In! We set up a camera outside Pyongyang for some post-Warfare coverage... aaaaaaaaaand..."

The feed cuts to an active but not overly full city square. People are just kinda walking around and going about their day.

"...Huh. Not much going on. Disregard, I guess."

The news correspondent claps his papers against his desk.

"Well, now we've got time to fill. I know we're an XWF News Team, but this feels like as good a time as any for a 30 minute segment covering the Middle East. We go live to Tom Hopkins, who's in a hallway closet at the Taliban headquarters. Tom?"

We cut to a completely dark feed.

"Go fuck yourself, Chet. Right in your own dickhole."