Lucius walks into his house, an abandoned shack. He sits down in front of his computer and shakes the mouse to turn it on.

What the hell is this?

He sees a message on the board, posted by Razor Ramon. He chuckles to himself, remembering all of Ramon's losses. Lucius leaves the computer and slips his copy of Dark Side of the Moon into his radio.

There was that one time that you got yourself disqualified vs British Bulldog. Another where Jeff Hardy in his jobbing days beat you by a count-out. When was the last time you beat Steve Austin? Never, right? That little fire you caused is nothing compared to the pain of defeat, which is exactly what you will feel. You want to cut MY hair? What about that stupid sprig hanging down on your forehead? How about I rip that off for you? I figured that you drink Jack Daniels, because you obviously have impaired judgement. In fact, you can't speak clearly anymore. How can I be afraid of a man who sounds homeless? You can't even spell "Lucius" correctly! How do you even expect to wrestle on Madness? I can just punch you in the temple and you would tap out from your hangover-induced migraine! Oh well, living that way is just a way to speed up your eternal torture. Just take a couple of Bennies and sit this one out, old timer, it will be SPADES better for your health than fighting me. Or come on out, get the crap kicked outta you, and get Sacrificed. Basically, i'm giving you the option; go to hell now, or go to hell later. It's your choice, and no one else but your own damn fault. Just get used to the heat, Ramon. It ain't nothing like Cuba.

Lucius gets up and goes to his basement, walking past the corpses, crying people, and pentagrams to get to his shrine. He kneels down before it with closed eyes as he mutters an incantation, and those still alive in his basement all open their mouths, letting out their souls for him to use. He absorbs them all, and opens his eyes. They are ruby red, before they change back to his usual angelic green shade.

Let the Fyre burn.