{{The scene fades in from the fuzz on your screen.
You see the scene as it is now, in the bright daylight. You see before you a hotel lobby.
There is a desk to your right where people check in. There is a large waiting area to the left
with several chairs and sofas. There are some people sitting there.
There is a large revolving door directly in front of you, constantly spinning. There goes someone exiting the hotel.
There goes someone coming in, and the door keeps spinning.
Suddenly, you turn around, a full 180 degrees, and you see the elevators to the upper floors.
They are all brass door and wall coverings. Very ornate inscriptions on the walls.
Just then, one of the elevator doors swoosh open and Skarrphace himself walks out.
He's dressed in a pair of Adidas pull off pants, a same-color Adidas pullover jacket, and cross-trainers.
His platinum chain is under his jacket, hiding the pendant "1" that's there.
He gives you a quick smile as he walks past and you follow him towards the revolving door.
As Skarrphace leaves the hotel, a limo pulls up and he gets in. You follow him in.
Skarrphace has a briefcase with him, which he opens once seated and pulls out some documents.
He begins to read over them to himself before speaking.}}

Skarrphace: Yeah....right.....ok, oh, hey....yeah, on the way to the arena tonight....got everything I need....and I was just going over some things that Hoefel said in his interview time this week....I have to admit, Double H, this is makin' me chuckle a bit.....go home to my wife and get some of her cooking? Well, you must not know me that well, cuz this man is a bachelor....has been and always will be....a straight playa for life....but as far as cooking goes, believe me, I can do my own version of "soul food" and I'm plenty well off for this match....and as far as nagging injuries are concerned...well, you saw how easily the 'Phace won against Showtime, so I got nothing holding me back from giving it my all tonight....and I'm glad it's hardcore rules, cuz I pride myself on being one hardcore mother fucker myself....so I'm sure tonight's match will be one helluva contest....but make no mistake, Double H....you don't have a chance at winning. No....I will make sure of that. You see, I've been in some fucked up matches in my career inside the squared circle....performed some incredible moves in the most spectacular arenas....death-defying stuff here...and this match is no different than those....the only thing that's different in those matches and this match is that I'm facing someone who I call a friend outside of the ring....the key word here is "outside" of the ring, because truth be told, when I get in the ring, I have no friends....I trust no one. The only one that I have ever been able to trust is myself....and that's what I have to go on....tonight, it's going to be me and you and a hardcore match for the rights to move on in the UWA International Tournament....and when it's all said and done....I will have my hand raised....and you will have a big, fat, stinkin' "L" on your record, courtesy of The ONLY 1 THAT MATTERS....once again...you know who that is, don't you Double H? That's me....that's Skarrphace....the ONLY 1....

{{Skarrphace thumbs through some more paperwork.
He finds something that catches his eye as he stares at it intently.
His gaze turns from nothing to rage within seconds as he continues to speak.}}

Skarrphace: *deep breath* XTC....oh XTC....what have you gotten yourself into now? I wonder sometimes how the hell you even get into events these days....your reputation must really proceed you....but truth be told, you make me sick. You're just like every other no good, backstabbing piece of shit wanna be hardcore mother fucker that has ever walked the planet Earth. And to the 'Phace, you have absolutely ZERO value as a human being and as a wrestler....in that order. You're scum.....the shit below scum really. You wanna come up and attack me....twice you've done it after I've disposed of opponents....twice you've attacked me by going behind my back....and you call yourself brave....you call yourself strong.....you are foolish. You are ignorant....you have no brain in your head and you have no courage in your heart. I laugh at you, really. But I will not tolerate your person any longer....that's why, no matter what happens in my match against Hoefel, I want your ass as soon as you're willing to set foot inside the ring against me....I want you in a Thunderdome Death Match.....you know what that is, XTC? Of course you don't, but it's my version of it, so let me take the time to explain it to you....a large Thunderdome type cage surrounds the ring....and there are handcuffs everywhere around the cage. The objective is to get your opponent handcuffed to the cage....when you do that, you've won the match....and then, after you've done that, the winner gets 5 minutes to do whatever he wants to you while you remained handcuffed to the Thunderdome....no one can get in, no one can get out....it's only me and you....and trust me, I will cuff your lame ass to the Thunderdome...and then my 5 minutes with you will seem like an eternity....when the EMT's come to carry your ass out on a stretcher, you will know...you will FINALLY realize, that you cannot win....for I am the ONLY 1 THAT MATTERS....and you....do....not.

{{Just then, the driver of the limo rolls down the partisian window.}}

Limo Driver: Umm...Mr. Skarrphace...we're here.

Skarrphace: Good....time to rock and time to roll, Double H....bring ya best, cuz the 'Phace is comin' to get ya....let's ride....if you're ready, let's get on the Merry-Go-fuckin'-Round.....MOUNT UP!

{{The limo stops and Skarrphace exits the limo, with his equipment bag in hand.
He shuts the door behind him and the scene fades to black.}}

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