His feet quickly pace down the hallway in the early morning, intent on reaching their destination as fast as possible. They collide with and press hardly against the ground to carry on forward, a slight muffling produced by the carpet above the wooden floor.

It's the backstage of the War Room, following the chaotic Trio Tag Edition that saw the resurgence of the XWF's Trio Tag Division, with new and promising teams, one of which stole the long held title - breathing a breath of fresh air into what otherwise seemed like a pointless title, a piece of gold thrown over a fat guys shoulder, even though he hadn't defended it in so long his partners up and left before the time came once again.

However, while the present situation we find ourselves in does have to do with the previous Warfare, as well as a title for that matter, it's not at all related to any of the Trios matches.

As he walks down the white-walled corridor, Smoke quickly turns his head to view the open doorways, looking for something quite obvious to find, something that means a lot - to him at least. After last night, it apparently doesn't mean much to a certain someone else, but that must be mind games, considering how he wanted the belt so much in the first place.

Looking through a doorway, he sees his target, and halts himself to run into the locker room and to his prize.

There is a hammer on a bench, laying alongside a television. But on the ground is what's important. There, among assorted shards of gold and glass, sits the FTW UFO Title. His FTW UFO Title.

He kneels in front of it, his temper rising as he examines the belt. The ruins of what some in the XWF would call a worthless title, but to Smoke it wasn't. Scotty Guillermo must have agreed with everyone else, because after stealing Smoke's belt, he took it to this locker room and smashed it to pieces, using some tape and a blue Sharpie to mock the real champion, adorning the title with his name 'Smoke Man' across the centre - doing it on camera, for all to see.

Asshole.

Smoke mutters under his breath. With his thumb and finger, he carefully holds a grip on the title's strap, careful to avoid the shards littered around the place. He raises it as he stands himself, slowly grabbing the title with his full hand and looking it up and down. Damn, Scotty did one hell of a number on it.

It doesn't matter anyway, it's his title, and now it's back - has his name on it for proof. Maybe that's a plus. Or maybe not. Depends on how you look at it. Either way Smoke will have to go to management to see about a possible replacement. He went out of his way to rescue the belt so they damn-well better.

Smoke inspects the back carefully, and after deciding it's clear 'enough', he flings the title over his shoulder. It's remarkably lighter than before - possibly because of the broken metal, glass, and the actual computer inside the belt. He adjusts it a little, ready to leave.

With a slight rise he turns around, ready to quickly depart and head home before anybody finds him here and tries to take his belt. But immediately after he turns he stops dead at the figure standing in the door frame.

A well-dressed man, in a full-black suit - blazer, trousers, shirt, everything. His hands are casually buried in his trouser pockets, and he stands with a smirk on his face - the kind of smirk that looks like he's trying to be sly and threatening, but really he's trying too hard.

There is a few seconds of silence between the two. Smoke, frozen on the spot, and the man, standing there - blocking his only exit.

It's quite clear to Smoke that the man did not want to let him leave.

The curious thing about the man, however, is the eye-patch...

Shane .

The 'big-bad-boss-man' tilts his head forward slightly in acknowledgement, his facial expression completely unchanging during the movement. Still, he does not speak.

This is really strange, Smoke considers. After Smoke Man came down to collect the belt, Shane shows up - blocking him from the exit. When handling the Lethal Lottery, as Captain, Smoke could reach him remotely to confirm his choices, and Shane could do the same back. If Shane wanted to just talk to Smoke, he probably would've done that. That's the pressing issue right now. That's why it's strange. There has to be a reason why he's here. But why is he here?

Smoke shakes his head in annoyance after not actually saying that last sentence aloud like he should've.

Did you want to talk, Shane? If you did then you could've just called me.

Shane slightly moves his head to the side, blinks once, and rotates it back. He's clearly not in the most chirpy mood, as he usually is.

Smoke, there is a matter I'd like to discuss with you, and I wanted to do it as soon as possible.

But why here, why now?

The boss's expression changes slightly. Now showing the slightest hint of anger and annoyance. It's not entirely written in his face, but it's dropped enough to notice just that change.

Because you are too predictable, Smoke Man. I saw what Scotty did to that title of your's and I knew you'd come rushing here to get it. This matter can only be dealt with here and now. We cannot let you go, not yet.

"We"?

Smoke subsides. His grip on his title tightens.

I don't understand, what's going on?

Smoke takes a couple steps back and rolls his eyes from left to right slowly, surveying the room in case of any kind of ambush. Shane's smile fades. He's clearly had enough of Smoke's idiocy, and tires of the back and forth between the both of them.

This past Wednesday, on the Trio Tag Warfare, you won your Gangsta's Match against Matt Ward. Tell me Smoke Man, how exactly did you win?

Still unsure of himself, Smoke looks around a little more before fixating his eyes on . The readied stance he'd gotten into by backing up does not go away as he answers the question.

I Chokeslammed Matt Ward and pinned him.

Shane quickly rolls his eyes - almost too quick to notice. He looks visibly agitated. Heck, both of his hands has come out of his pocket, and his hovering in the air in front of him, mid-way to forming 'claws' with his fingers.

Before that.

And with a noticeable look of sudden understanding on his face, Smoke Man knew where he was headed. He relaxed his stance slightly.

...I... I stabbed him.

Shane's hands open up and spread to his sides, fingers and hands wide.

With?

...With a box cutter...

Shane shoots his hands in the air above him in fists and triumphantly shouts:

With a box cutter!

He lowers his hands and presses them together, putting them behind his back and standing straight. He continues talking, his tone growing more and more condescending.

You stabbed Matt Ward with a box cutter.

He puts his hands on his knees as if cooing a child to form a fucking sentence.

And how many times did you stab him Smokey Wokey?

And he said that like someone trying to coo a child into forming a fucking sentence.

I stabbed him nine times!

Smoke almost shouts his response, agitated by the treatment he's been receiving, even by his boss.

And there we have it, Smoke Man stabbed Matt Ward nine times with a box cutter in order to win his match on Warfare.

The boss stands upright and looks Smoke dead in the eye, standing more or less the exact same way as he was in the first place - overuse of smirk and all.

And that's the whole reason why I'm here Smoke Man. I'm afraid that I, and by 'I' I mean the San Diego Police Department, will have to escort you from the building and place you in custody.

Smoke stands up straight in disbelief.

What!?

Shane points his finger up at Smoke Man and shouts.

Don't you argue, asshole. Stabbing a man is a crime, and that's a crime you've committed, whether you like it or not. And I can't have an active criminal on my shows. It's not personal Smoke Man. It's anything but. It's just business.

What's best for business, right?

Without a moment's hesitation, Shane walks over and slaps Smoke hard in the face.

Not only is that wrong but I will not be compared to someone of the likes of Triple H. Triple H wishes he could be me. Triple H wishes he chose to bang my daughter so that he could take over the XWF.

Although still reeling from the slap, Smoke still splurts out one more mock.

But... you don't have a daughter... do you?

I COULD.

Shane runs his hands through his hair to cool himself off. He clearly let Smoke get to him and that's not a good sign. He heavily sighs out of his mouth and recomposes himself.

Smoke Man, I strongly suggest you cooperate. Otherwise you risk losing your role as captain in the Lethal Lottery or even your job. You tread a very thin line as it is, I wouldn't try to test the waters if I were you.

Still holding the sore side of his face, and gripping the title, Smoke slightly nods, enough for to understand. He starts walking off but is stopped by 's hand on his shoulder. Smoke looks at him, and Shane rotates his hand until his palm is facing the ceiling. His expression is silent and cold.

Knowing what he wants, Smoke Man heavily sighs and places the shattered title into Shane's hands. Shane nods in appreciation and then walks further into the locker room, inspecting the scene of the crime. Smoke makes his way out and is met by two members of the San Diego Police Department. They handcuff him and escort him out of the building.

Although if there was any good thing to take away from that. Anything at all. Is that Smoke Man would still be competing in the Lethal Lottery. And if that means a week in custody, so be it.