The camera opens to the back halls of the Wildcard Weekend PPV. Mystica stands in his priestly garb, with a stack of well-folded pamphlets in his arms. As folks walk by, probably to the bathrooms or snack stands, he hands out the pamphlets to those that tarry for too long. Most just take it and keep walking. Some hand it back to Mystica, stating they are not interested. And yet, some take the pamphlet and, without even reading it, immediately march to a trash bin and throw it out. Mystica sighs.

"Poor beauts. Don't even know what's coming to them. I'm trying to hard to warn them. But they're as blind as Hyphema. Blood pooling in their eyes. It's an odd sort of foreshadowing to the blood that will sting their eyes in these end days. While a bunch of thugs duel it out tonight, I'm out here trying to tell them the truth. But they're like the Romans. Just interested in gladitorial combat -- eager to watch another man do what they wish they could. All they want to see is the brutality of the human condition. That is our natural state -- brutality. We want blood and guts spilled across the floor; to slip in the entrails of men we've never met, but seen on massive telescreens. We want the crimson tides to run deep, but our own veins to remain guarded. Hypocrisy."

Frustrated, Mystica himself strolls over to the refuse bin and tosses all the rest of his pamphlets into the bowels of the bin. He wipes his hands clean on his slacks and walks over to the corner, his back to the wall.

"Can't trust anyone to listen. So how can I trust another man to watch my back? How can I trust Heironeous to help me Wednesday? I have to be blind like all these people. I must learn to walk in the dark and have faith in someone other than my own word. Difficulty, to say the least. Well, have at it, then, mate. Let's hope you go hard in the match tonight so you come off with some sort of energy for Wednesday. Easy take-down, the Shawns/Seans. Really, what's with the Irish names 'round here? It's like they all heard there were free potatoes and Guinness if they signed up. Goodness. It's going to be exactly what all these people come here for. Blood and guts. A massacre. Something is rising in me. I can feel it, man. An angel of death is coming, and I think...I think I'll welcome it with open arms. Enough of this goodwill towards man. Let's spread the good word of the coming pain. Endless, nameless, pointless."

Achievements

• 1x Tag Team Champion
  
• August 2013 Superstar of the Month (Thank you all so much!)
  
• 1x US Champion
  
• 1x X-treme Champion