The scene fades into an empty classroom. As we pan across rows of empty seats, chalk is sharply banging against a blackboard behind us. The afternoon sunlight creeps through dingy windows, relentlessly beaming at dilapidated tile. "I will not be beaten" reads incessantly across the faded emerald chalkboard. A hand vigorously survives the statement. SNAP! The tip of chalk breaks off at the cross of a "t", leaving the word "not" to stand unfinished at the edge of the blackboard. As flakes of chalk scatter to the ground, Mr. Rockwell reveals himself to us with a sinister smirk upon his face. His demeanor seems less ominous due to his gentle robin's-egg blue european-cut Alexander Price hugging his cameo pink turtle neck.

Are we paying attention?

Simon rests the chalk on the cherry desk in front of him before gripping the table with both hands, leaning towards the camera.

Last night I made an example of that dunce, Eric Rex. I set an expectation to every buffoon in the Wednesday Warfare locker room of what exactly I will accomplish here in the XWF. Eric Rex, you came after me with everything you had in that octagon and although we were in your wheelhouse, only one man's arm was raised. I commend your ferocity but at the end of the day a brute, senseless assault does not win matches. Strategy does. Psychology does. Most importantly, intellect does. You say you are not here to win gold but to make money and hurt people. That's one of the many virtues that separates the student from his teacher. I joined XWF for one reason only. To dominate.

Mr. Rockwell rolls a black leather executive chair over and languorously seats himself.

So next week we will have a...history exam, so to speak. The question is, class...who is to become the next steppingstone in Mr. Rockwell's climb to the top of Mount XWF? I'll let the locker room make that decision. For those of you who are ignorant to the language of subtleties, allow me to translate. I am offering an open challenge to anyone who would like to be an integral part in the legacy that is Mr. Simon Rockwell! Whoever it is, I suggest you study up for next Wednesday's test because for most of you...it will be short answer.

Simon tilts back in the chair and folds his feet on the desk, a corrupt grin emerging.

Class dismissed.