*At a sold out Comerica Theater, XWF is holding an event letting new and up and coming competitors hone their skills and get some in ring experience. 5,000 wrestling fans are enjoying watching the future of XWF develop and make a name for themselves before their eyes.

Currently the co-main event is in progress and the two yet to be known competitors have been slugging it out in the ring for about ten minutes now. The fans cheer as the two continue putting their bodies on the line in a fairly impressive see saw battle.

The challenger starts gaining momentum and after landing one of his signature moves he sets up for his finisher. The crowd rises and cheers supporting his efforts. In that moment the entire theater goes black suddenly as all the lights go out. Some rumbling in the ring is heard as the crowd silences bewildered by the current turn of events. The big screen clicks on and the PA system begins playing a recognizable tune and entrance video*








*Pyrotechnic sparks erupt from the stage and the tops of the turnbuckles and the lights come back on. In the ring the two competitors lay face down on the mat. Standing in the center of the ring is Prophecy. The mixed reactions from the crowd erupt. Prophecy looks around for a moment then slowly walks to the ropes and motions for a microphone. One of the men ringside fumbles around briefly then reaches up and hands Prophecy the mic. He takes the mic and paces for a moment circling the two unsuspecting victims laying in the ring. The music fades out.*

Prophecy: "Phoenix Arizona! *the crowd cheers* I bet this is not what you were expecting when you bought your tickets to come here tonight. I dare say neither were these two. I would apologize but frankly I wouldn't mean it, so I shall not."

*he steps over and stands above the challenger who had the match seemingly all but won*

Prophecy: "Don't worry son. Just part of the game. You'll get used to getting screwed over. If it's any consolation I think we can all agree you had this won."

*The crowd cheers and Prophecy paces around the ring for a moment*

Prophecy: "Speaking of which, let me address a couple things tonight. As I'm sure all of you are aware there are certain obligations we are meant to fulfill here in the XWF each and every week. Some of us take that quite seriously. Some do not. Last week you saw what happens all to often in this industry. A competitor getting an undeserved and unearned victory."

*Prophecy raises his hand over to the big screen. Last weeks match against Trash is shown. The video pauses. The refs hand comes down to finish the three count. The still frame is zoomed in on clearly displaying only one shoulder on the mat.*

Prophecy: "See, typically some sort of interview, public appearance, or promo of some kind is required before each match. However my opponent last week decided not to to do so and was still not only allowed to compete but was also GIVEN a victory. Instead he sent out this *reaching into his coat pocket pulling out a napkin with some writing scribbled on it and holding it up* as part of said obligations. This poorly written and sad attempt at something poetic was all anyone heard from him. So tell us...Trash...Who was it you blew to help get you that 'W'? Someone in the office or the ref? I would say you paid someone off but by looking at you, I think it's less your style if you catch my drift?"

*The crowd cheers and laughs as Prophecy tears up the napkin and tosses the pieces in the air and letting them fall to the ring scattering about.*

Prophecy: "Now on to more important matters, however, rest assured Trash, know that you have not seen the last of me and no amount of perverse sexual favors will save you from the retribution you will surely pay. *the crowd cheers as he pauses for a moment* This week, the hands of fate have given me a special opportunity. Not only is my next opponent on the Saturday roster rather than the Warfare roster, but this man, is piece of shit communist known as...Luca Arzegotti."

*the crowd erupts into a deafening roar of boos*

Prophecy: "Exactly...This Wednesday Luca you wont have anyone there to help you win. It's gonna be just me, and you. I would listen to your companions and not let your inexperience blind you. I am someone who you should be giving your undivided attention to. I won't deny your efforts or skills you showed Saturday but on Monday, much like my opponent last week, you can't even say he showed up. Fortunately for you, Triple L doesn't take his love for all mentality as far or as seriously as Trash does. Yes Luca, my real name is unknown, yes, I am a piece of work, however, I am something you will likely never be...Yes Luca, a champion! Former? Yes Luca, you're absolutely right, 'former'. Unlike you that is something I can gladly say is on my resume. You are in the way of adding yet another title to my list of accomplishments. Since you are such a supporter of communism you should thank the powers that be for fulfilling part of your beloved Communist Manifesto because when you step into the ring with me in a few short days you will be given a free education.*the crowd cheers* When it is all said and done Luca, you are gonna wish you did live in a communistic or socialist society because I promise you, after what was done to me last week, I plan on taking it out on you and you will wish we offered free health care in this country because you, Luca Arzegotti, will fricken need it..."

*He lowers the mic to his side and looks around the theater as the crowd rises to their and erupts into cheers and applause. He holds out his arms to each side absorbing the energy from the crowd before bring the mic to his lips again.*

Prophecy: "So let it be written...*the crowd joins in, in unison.*So let it be done!!"

*Prophecy slams the mic down onto the mat and holds out his arms to his side again. The crowd cheers and the lights begin to flicker and strobe before the theater goes black again. A minute or so later the lights come back on. In the ring the challenger of the match, still unconscious, is now laying with one arm resting on his opponents chest. The ref slides back into the ring and shrugs. He drops to the mat and counts, 1...2...3...*