Backstage, medics are attending to Robbie. A lot of them. So much blood lost through countless cuts and gashes, not to mention the brutality of a match with Centurion. Robbie is glaring at the camera, his mask stained with blood, refusing any attempts from the medics to remove it.

This won't stop me. This won't slow me down.

When I catch you, Puddin', I'ma put my foot so far up your ass you'll be biting my toenails.

Other than that, fuck a briefcase. I work for a living.

If Ned wants a shot, Ned can come through me.