As Marf finds a seat on the plane flying him away from Fire & Ice, he sighs with relief.

What a Fatal Fourway match. The penultimate contest of the entire Fire & Ice event. And Marf won the whole damn show.

He beat Reggie Estrada, Cage Coleman AND BAM MILLER, The last three X-Treme champions! If that doesn't prove you deserve the belt, what does?

Marf's been around the block a few times though... He knows that the second you win the belt, the ambushes come... The attacks. And only constant vigilance and alertness can protect you from the multitude of surprises offenses headed the champion's way.

"Shi Atzu massage, sir?"

Marf looks up at a stewardess, smiling pleasantly. His eyebrow tilts to the side, perplexed.

"It's already been placed on your reservation, sir. No cost."

Marf scratches his head, but shrugs and leans back...

The stewardess disappears in the chair behind him... And Marf feels delicate fingertips wrapping around his shoulders.

Marf, at first, is laser-focused, thinking about the importance of watching his six... But eventually, the massage begins to relax him and his eyes start to flutter asleep...

...

The camera pans behind Marf's seat... And whose hands are rubbing Marf Swayson's shoulders? What dastardly denizen of the deepest depths of debauchery would debase and defile decency itself?!?

Who else but that foul, filthy-hearted fiendish FUCK, the North Korean War Criminal?

"Throwing my voice and paying a stewardess to go along with this plan was the easy part. The hard part was getting an Associate's Degree in Massage Therapy." NK whispers

NK continues to rub Marf's shoulders from the back... Slowly, gently working towards Marf's front... Before applying the slightest pressure onto Marf's chest from the back.

As Marf's shoulders press against the back of his seat, the XWF official, who by happenstance, bought the seat on the plan next to Marf, begins to count...

1...

2...

1....

2....