Korey X Smyth is now seen on a steel bridge spanning the length of a factory floor deep below the manor. The factory floor is Dickensian in its toil and squalor. Rat colonies intermingle with child workers, nipping at their toes. Hot steam spews dangerously everywhere. Out of date machinery rumbles along with nerve wracking squeals. And everything has an Amazon logo planted on it.

Korey is dressed like a straight up 1920's robber baron now. Flowing cape, luxury clothes, and of course the monocle. He also looks like he has a pencil thin mustache now but it looks drawn on.

Neo Ryce! You, my ugly friend, are my way out of the cesspool of the FXW! I'm earning my golden ticket out of here! You see, my world is one of production, and employee efficiency and ledgers and profits! I don't have time for this barbarism! The only reason I joined the FXW was because I mistook it for the WFX: Western Flyer Express! I was looking for a cheaper and more efficient way to ship my product. Imagine my surprise when I was told I was a professional wrestler! Ah well, I'll just take it out on Page. You know, I don't even have to whip him myself now! I just point to the whip and he goes and does it himself. Good dog. But no biscuit. Not with the price of dog treats today.

Just then, there's a blood curdling shriek from below. Korey rolls his eyes.

Oh hell, already?! He walks over the bridge to a white board.

This department has worked five minutes 0 minutes without injury.

OSHA can excavate my asshole!