The place is Arlington, Texas, the time is 18:00 CST, the music in the background is that of Black Sabbath's War Pigs and the man in front of the camera is John Lewis. He sits alone on his back porch looking agitated. He and Robert specially challenged Drezdin for this coming Saturday Night Savage however a few hours ago the card came out and it's official he's facing Abigail Monroe, Drezdin must have backed out he thought.

Lewis stands up slowly looking out towards his yard. The camera pans to follow his gaze and a black ford focus pulls up in his driveway. Out of the car steps none other than Robert Pearsell looking dapper as usual in his black slacks, black dress shirt, and of course his customary fedora. He's the complete opposite of John Lewis at least in fashion habits. Lewis looks comfortable in a pair of worn blue jeans and a blue Adidas hoodie. Robert steps up on the porch looking grim as well.

Robert: Did you see the report?

John: Yeah, Abigail Monroe.

The two shake their heads in dissappointment before making seats out of Lewis' back stairs.

John: It feels like a waste, we've studied Drezdin for weeks, his moves, his habits, his style. We had that guy down to a tee. What went wrong Robert?

Robert shrugs his shoulders.

Robert: I don't know John. Like you I thought we had struck a verbal contract with him.

Robert laughs grimly taking a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket lighting one up.

Robert: Maybe he saw some of your MMA fights and decided he'd better not. After the way you knocked around Joe Walsh last May...

Robert's voice trails off as he takes a long drag off his cigarette.

John laughs remembering that night. It was a good fight. His last in MMA. He was on his way to one of the big three, but a few hours after the win he was involved in a wreck on the DNT injuring his neck and effectively ending that career.

Robert had been there right by his side for the next week whilst in the hospital. He's never left his side since helping John get back into shape after all his time off, keeping his confidence high, always motivating, always advising, that was Robert, he was the manager. The guy who knew how to say things. He could get under anybody's skin. Unlike John who stands in the background laughing at those whom Robert rubs the wrong way. Sure, John has his moments. He likes to watch people get angry too. John always has a reason though. Robert does it just...,well...just to do it.

John: Who knows...The XWF may have had better ideas for Drezdin. I noticed he has a Hart title match coming up on Wednesday against Zane Norrison. I don't know to much about that guy, but perhaps they didn't want to jump the gun.

Robert looks at John with understanding.

John: It doesn't stop the hurt though. Robert, I really wanted to make my mark by knocking off that giant instead of beating up a...woman.

John hesitates with this last word. Robert keeps his eyes on the ground nodding his head still in understanding. They both have been thinking about that. The sport is pure entertainment and both men know it, but the fact they've placed John who is 6'2 and 240 pounds against a young lady who admittedly is strong, but has more the look of a runway model standing 5'10 and coming in about 120 pounds. Robert being the manager and voice of reason has to encourage John not only to go along with this match, but to embrace it, to enjoy not only the match itself, but the lead up, and the aftermath.

After all the XWF is a progressive promotion where gender doesn't matter. You won't find any mixed tag team matches here where if the male tags in the female the other team has to automatcially send in their female. No XWF is a equal opportunity ground for John Lewis to make a mark.

Perhaps, by the look on Robert's face John can tell what he's thinking.

John: Treat her like she's anybody else. Just another body in the way, just another human roadblock that I have to drive over?

Robert: Yes.

Robert says waving his cigarette enthusiastically. John fans some of the smoke in the other direction giving Robert a dirty look. Robert knows that John hates the smell of smoke much less getting it in his face. Sometimes, Robert, isn't very considerate, but it's one of those things you've either got to get used to or be constantly annoyed. John's the latter.

John: Why do you have to light those things while around me and wave it around? You know that's nasty.

Robert looks at John a little amused. He finishes the last drag before putting it out.
Robert: A little edgy, my boy?

John bit down on his lip, his jawline growing tighter. He knew what Robert was trying to do...pump him up. It's a constant tactic he utilizes. John isn't the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve. He'll stay cool, calm, collected on the outside whilst fuming on the inside. It's what his motivation was to get into the cage and battle other modern day gladiators for pure pride (and a little money). It was now going to be useful in the XWF. He hated when Robert applied this tactic, but at the same time loved it. John enjoyed getting pumped up for a good competition. It was fun for him.

As Robert continued on John stared straight ahead remembering the last time he saw Abigail Monroe in the ring. August 19th to be exact. She had lost her Television championship to Damon Tyler in a match that Jenny Myst and Chris Chaos played a big role in.

He remembered that match vividly she showed a lot of heart and ability. He remembered watching it and getting a little angry that she was screwed out of her belt. Now, he was going to face her. the former XWF television champion...the former XWF television champion...he let that thought soak into his head the former XWF television champion.

He looked over at Robert and slightly cocked his eyebrow.

Robert smiles in response knowing what John's realization was.

Maybe she'll help make an impact after all.

Former 1x XWF Heavymetalweight Champion