With a genuine smile, his words echo far and wide throughout the land.

[In Sean Connery voicebase]
Greetings, my friend, I hope my message today finds you in proper health and good spirits. Glad pauses a few seconds, his smile fading as he takes on a more serious demeanor. Some of us were wondering, Tommy- why not stitch up that pussy of yours and go back after that Federweight title you let some small Asian boy walk all over you for?

The pause that follows those words is a much longer one, as Glad allows those words to resonate with their intended recipient as well as the entirety of the XWF kingdom.

After some time, he proceeds: Don't make your fans look like misled, gullible fools for speaking of your trash talk game so highly. Don't let yourself look like someone who curls up and whimpers as soon as a viable challenge arrives on the scene. Your actions are a direct insult to not only the championship you held, but also to the entire audience who was expecting to finally see you work your way through an encounter with someone who poses a true threat. Moreover, your actions are an insult to myself and the entire concept of 24/7 championships. When you failed to successfully fend off the attacks of Ophelia, you exposed yourself. When you failed to even try against North Korean War Monger, you buried yourself.

Well consider this your open invitation to go ahead and dig yourself back out and accept the responsibility your falsely inflated and bloated reputation has dropped on those trembling shoulders. Go, Tommy, show us how it's done.

Turning to walk away, Glad hesitates and slowly looks back at the camera to add just a little more. I don't like people like you- running your mouth anytime you think you've got it easy; his voice becoming harsher and his disappointment in Gunn ever more apparent. Cowering in fear when you find out your running of the mouth is more of a leaky dribble compared to the real kings who occasionally grace this Kingdom of the Infectious Tongue. Hell, abandoning one title and thinking you have what it takes to claim another that sits much higher in power.

Go run that mouth, bottom feeder. You make me sick, Glad says with a sneer, shaking his head ever so slowly in disgust.

After the feed ends, several real-time seconds of silence pass, the crowd begins chanting for 'Tommy Gunn', pleading him to return to the ring answer the challenge.

...

Suddenly, the X-Tron clicks alive and the crowd screams!

...



And immediately the arena unleashes a downpour of boos, heckles, jeers.

North Korean War Criminal emerges from the back curtain, his walking orchestra accompanying him, his cadets flanking him on left and right. He wears an immaculate North Korean military uniform. The right cadet carries a sheath in his hands...

He steps down the ramp and as he gets closer and closer to the ring, the audience's disapproval only increases its volume.

He reaches the ring steps and makes a flawless ninety degree turn to the cadet wielding the sheath. The sheath is presented to NKWC with a bow.

And NKWC unsheathes...

A microphone.

NKWC walks to the center of the ring, microphone in tow as his assembled entourage surrounds the ring in support of his incoming message. The music cuts. The rest of the audience does not share that desire to support and instead only screams louder, attempting to drown him out.

It is ineffective.

"Inspiring words, Gladiator. Had I heartstrings that bended toward your goal, they surely would have been tugged. Please. Call out to Tommy Gunn. The man who defended this belt successfully more times than any other title holder. Why wouldn't one call out to Tommy Gunn?"

"The man I beat effortlessly. It took me longer to defeat Tommy Wish than it did Tommy Gunn. Maybe you should be trying to recruit Wish into your reclamation efforts."

"Perhaps, you could call out to Sid Feder. The most famous loudmouth to ever step foot in the XWF, the original namesake of the title that we no longer allow our people to speak of."

The audience tries to start a 'FE-DER FE-DER FE-DER' chant.

"THE SAME MAN THAT HELD THIS TITLE ONCE AND SUCCESSFULLY DEFENDED IT NEVER."

The crowd only chants Sid Feder's name louder.

"Call out to anyone you feel like represents your slow-witted tongue-tied American XWF Top 50 in trash talking capability."

The crowd pops for the sheer mention of the legendary XWF Top 50.

"Your Mr. XWF."

A howling scream of approval.

"Your Frodo Smackins."

A Frodo chant immediately breaks out!

"Your one-time XWF Universal Champion Gator."

The crowd rises to its feet applauding.

"Your Two-Time XWF Champion Morbid Angel."

The crowd applauds faster and faster...

"Your Two-Time XWF Universal Champion Vinnie Lane."

The crowd beats its hands together screaming "YES! YES! YES!"

"Send everyone of your top 50 in order, from bottom to top."

"Send any and every XWF superstar you want. And I'll send every one back in a body bag."

The boos return, more deafening than ever. The volume actually begins to compete with the volume of NKWC's microphone.

He turns up a dial on its side and once again, he can be heard.

The crowd finds a way to increase its volume again through sheer hatred, but it is insufficient.

"I'll blow through every last one of your hand-picked lap dogs. In a manner just as easily as I defeated your champion, Tommy Gunn."

The music resumes, the band plays again. The cadets rush into the ring re-sheathe the mic.

"Oh."

"By the way, Gladiator."

The music immediately ceases. The Korean entourage freezes.

"Challenge me with any worthless lazy American XWF superstar you like."

"I look forward to proving True Korea superior in every battle."

"But if you ever call this belt by its false name again."

"There will be... drastic consequences to your actions."

"The NorthKoreanWarCriminalweight title belt will not tolerate your slanderous references to its past as a worthless American joke."

"Glory to the future of this championship as the one true trophy of the XWF."

"Glory to True Korea."

He pauses...

And nods.

The music resumes, the mic is sheathed, the party walks to the back in perfect step. To a resounding wave of fury from the pro-XWF crowd.