The following was filmed on Thursday.
The cameras open up in the living room of the Wilkins condo in Virginia Beach. The windows are all open and the soothing sound of waves crashing fills the air. Ron is on the couch, dressed in plain workout clothes and a pair of sneakers. He's watching the television and the camera turns to see what's on. We catch the dying scenes of John Samuels latest interview and Ron points the remote at the TV to turn it off.

"That's what you've got John? That was your Hail Mary?"

Ron simply shakes his head.

"I tell you what John, your best bet is to just take that disc and put it in a bucket of Febreze, because that reeked of desperation. I'll be honest, I'm struggling to understand you John. On one hand you are supposedly an adult male or normal brain function. But then you release something like your latest interview and it makes you look as mature as a slab of veal."

Ron gets up and begins pacing across his living room, gesticulating with his hands.

"I wouldn't expect a manicured and pedicured primadonna like yourself to find a shootout with cartel members on live television that exciting, I'm guessing you are a little more Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and less Diehard. Not that there's anything wrong with that." He adds with a cocked eyebrow.

"If stuff like that isn't your cup of tea that's just fine. After all not all of us can have such illustrious accomplishments like beating CYREN to hang our hats on." He snickers "You should've stuck to temper tantrum John, at least you were entertaining then. Now you are nothing but a Jack Russell Terrier, nipping at mine and Kinwrathi's heels for attention. Just like when my son wants attention good or bad you'll get it. I only hope you don't cry and stamp your feet too loudly after I spank you and toss you over the top rope."

Ron walks towards the sliding glass door and motions for the camera to follow him. He walks outside and onto the beach, breathing in the fresh ocean air.

"So much better than that desert hellhole. You let people like Ursula and her kind run a town and that's what it turns into. All they've ever known is filth and squalor so they are more than happy to continue that trend."

Another deep breath of the ocean air.

"Look Ursula we get it, you worked hard to get where you're at. That scene where you were "boxing" an old piñata or whatever that was, was very inspiring. But you missed the bus a long time ago. You should've shacked up with a nice, rich, American. "Forgotten" your pill for a few days and popped out a little anchor baby. Youd have it made! Instead you've got to deal with me in a few days. "

He smirks.

"It'll be just like old times for me, and once I'm done with you this "modeling" career you've got going on will be a thing of the past. After Sunday night the only types of photo shoots anyone will want you for will be all those two girls, one cup films you South American girls are so well suited for."

He gives an involuntary shudder, remembering the day a trusted "friend" sent him that link and told him it was "the coolest thing he'd ever see".

"And of course, Kinwrathi. Now I won't kid myself, I don't see us being best friends in your fairy tale land or in reality but I have to ask you something personal. Is your dick as sore as mine is?"

He pauses for a moment to let the question sink in.

"Allow me to explain. It doesn't matter if it is the lowest of the low in this match (hint, hint World-1 international), an aging (it's starting to show doll) Diva living in the past, or the Champ himself. Every single participant in this match is tugging on myself or Kinwrathi, begging to be acknowledged."

"Believe me, you will all get your time in the sun. For most of you getting eliminated by someone worthy of main eventing a card will be the highlight of your careers, and I take that responsibility very seriously. Now I'm not sure of the standard operating procedure for something like this but I suggest you stay once you've been dumped into defeat and irrelevancy. Hang out and watch some true professionals go at it. I implore you to do so actually, I have no doubts it will prove very beneficial to you."

He turns and smiles at the camera.

"Besides, Kinwrathi and Samuels might be in an autograph giving mood once they are eliminated by yours truly."

Ron's phone begins to ring. He pulls it from his pocket and sees its a call from his boss, Shane . He thumbs the answer button and puts the phone on speaker, as he listens he walks back inside to eliminate the background noise from the waves.

"Ron?"

"Yes sir, right here. You're on camera also."

"Aha, very well. I'll keep it short then. Your Gauntlet number has been picked. You will enter 29th out of 32 participants. Good luck."

The call ends and we are left with Ron's jaw hanging down to his chest. has already hung up on his end and Ron just lets his phone drop to the couch. Ron follows suit shortly. He still has a stunned expression on his face. He begins talking, but not to anyone in particular…just thoughts flowing verbally in his empty house.

“Holy shit…this is it. The opportunity is right there, I just have to take it now. Everything is falling into line for the FTW Title and now a number like this for the Gauntlet? Unbelievable.”

He bolts from his chair and flips open his wife’s laptop. Quickly logging onto the news section on the XWF site, trying to gauge what threats will be left at that point. He sees his name there in the 29th position and he actually falls off the chair and onto a knee when he sees World-1 International’s (name? title? LLC?) just below his.
“Holy shit, they might as well have just slotted me in at 31. World-1 might not even be able to make it to the Gauntlet now that I know he’s my immediate competition. Sorry kiddo, it’s the luck of the draw. So three falls, that’s it? Whoever I go in there against…that’s way up in the air. Then World-1…”He stops to laugh “Then two more guys? When the best in the XWF will have already beaten the hell out of each other?” He lets out a long “sheeeeiiittttttttt…..”

“I’ve never been one to look for the easy way out, but what else am I supposed to do here?”

He sits on the couch, smiling and shaking his head, still incredulous at his good fortune.

“Well hell, I could waste my time sitting here. Dissecting each of my potential opponents but what does that really matter? Even if someone like Duke, Flynn, or Gilmour makes it all the way to me they’ll be so tired that I might as well be in there with Crimson Dong again.”

Ron’s getting excited now, he hops to his feet and begins to pace his living room.
“King of the XWF and FTW Title all in one night? That’s something that seemed like a major long shot just an hour ago.” He’s pumping his arms now, getting excited already.

“Now it’s a reality. Hell…it’s already done!”

He re-laces his shoes and opens the door, bolting down the street as he tries to burn off some of this nervous energy. In his excitement he’s completely forgotten the camera crew and after a moment of looking at an empty house, the screen abruptly switches to black.

The cameras open up in an upscale hotel room in London, England. Ron Wilkins is dressed in a warm-up jacket and pants. The sun is just beginning to descend and the time is drawing near for Gauntlet City. Ron is going through his pre-match routines, some light push-ups, jumping jacks, body weight squats, and burpees to get his blood flowing and then some stretching mixed in with some yoga poses.

He's wearing a pair of headphones, his smart phone is clipped to his arm.

"This is it baby, it's my time now. Time to make my mark. FTW Title, King of the XWF. I can just hear people talking about it tomorrow...the most incredible night an XWF Superstar has ever had. A career defining night. Nah, fuck that...a legacy defining night." He takes a long swig from his water bottle, making sure he's hydrated for what should be a very busy night.

"The participants in the FTW Battle Royal have said their respective pieces, but I'm setting my sights even higher now. At first the Gauntlet was something I planned on doing my best in, but now? Coming in as one of the last entrants? It all seems like destiny now. It's just up to me to seize it."

Still with his headphones in, Ron turns to look at the camera.

"Do you hear me Duke? Flynn? Mystery? James? All of you bastards, I've been in there with you before. I know what you bring to the table and I know I'm ready for it. Its time to usher in a whole new era in XWF History and wave goodbye to you relics." He smiles at the camera "Get ready fellas, it's gonna be one helluva night."

The scene fades as Ron yanks the door open and jogs down the hotel hallway, preparing for his date with Lady Destiny.

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