GT chuckles at first, then begins to grin. The place? It's somewhere dark, most likely inside a building. His neon green eye glowing in the darkness. He looked at the camera, smirking, chuckling some more, before he begins to speak, for the first time since he began to let his throat heal up.

We've faced, what? Once? The moment my father built his chrysalis, he began to kill me, slowly. I WAS THE HIGHER POWER'S CLEANSER! I... I was supposed to cleanse this world of weakness... No... I died DURING THAT TIME, and when he emerged, I was gone, and he become The FAILED PHOENIX! HE THREW ME AWay... Ohhh yes... But my fight was with my Brother the moment that my father became BROKEN! He was BORN the moment the flashy lights filled him. And you know of my Brother. Brother Panzer. While we were in our father's brainmeats, we had a fight for the ages! But you will never see it. It is because of that seeming eternity, I was neaRLY MURDERED, AS HE FLED OUR FATHER for greener pastures.

So, I don't know if we faced each other, more than the one time. The time my tag partner and me, beat both you and Morbid Angel! In my mind... I am still one up on you, Gilmour. One... to zero...

He grinned, the eye moved in the darkness, seemingly moving closer then farther apart. He was rocking back and forth in the darkness.

Peter. You think your past accomplishments are going to help you win in this match. What makes you think that? If you're... such... a king of Xtreme, then, why did a newcomer have to come up with such a brutal, such an unforgiving match stipulation? If you're such a... king... of Xtreme, why did I, A FUCKING MONSTER, think of that?

I know why, Peter. Because you're truly not the King, are you? You're a pretender. Hiding underneath title wins. Your past will not help you, Gilmour. Nothing... NOTHING! will help you... You will have to resort to tactics you've probably forgotten, tactics you haven't used in years... because the New Breed of Beast is coming, to destroy you. TO DEFILE, EVERYTHING YOU ARE! The New Kind of Monster, is coming, TO REND YOU LIMB FROM LIMB... and put each piece up on individual hooks.

There is going to be pain, Gilmour. There will be blood. THERE WILL BE, NO ESCAPE! You can try to use the arena to your advantage. Sure, you can knock Random and I around outside of the hooking area... But how STRONG are you, Peter? Are you going to be able to lift me up? I doubt it. But maybe you can.

To be honest, I am a massive slab of meat. Maybe you'll see me as that, as I have you, as something that needs to be hooked, preserved, until a consumer wishes pieces of my flesh.

No... I doubt it. I doubt you've thought that way, Gilmour. But right now, Peter, I feel as if the whole world...

is in my hands...

With that, lights went on, and Ghost Tank is sitting in the middle of a ballroom, blood splattered all across the walls, all over the floor. In around his neck, is several hearts, made into a necklace thanks to his suturing kit, and several bodies, decapitated, with their limbs cut off and an array of organs pulled out with their meaty chunks of entrails and limbs strewn apart and made into a bloody perverted version of a globe, with different things making up all the land masses, with him sitting where Papua New Guinea is supposed to be.

Peter, Random... This is going to be so much fun!!!

His laughter began to echo inside the ballroom, as the feed cuts.