my name is spelled....S-K-A-R-R-P-H-A-C-E....but you can just call me Champ

{{The scene fades in. You see yourself at one of the entrances to Los Angeles International Airport, or LAX as it's known
throughout the world. You look to the far right and you see Skarrphace talking with someone at the counter. The counter is
unmarked as you look around for the airline it's associated with. As you approach Skarrphace, you pick up this part of the conversation.}}

Skarrphace: So....we're all set to take off as soon as I board, right?

Attendant: That's right, Mr. Skarrphace. Right now it's 9:50 p.m. California time, and we should have you in Orlando around 3:00 a.m. EST. You did request this late of a flight, didn't you?

Skarrphace: Yes, I did. I wanted to avoid the rush during the day....thank you....gate 213 right?

Attendant: Correct, sir. Have a pleasant flight.

{{Skarrphace picks up his papers that were on the counter and folds them up and puts them in his pants pocket.
He gets his bags and heads down the terminal hallway, a long, wide passageway. He gets to the security gate and
places his two travel bags on the conveyor belt as he takes his keys and large gold Rolex watch off and places them
inside the bowl that the security guard takes. He walks through security and gets his bags to continue on. A few moments
later, you see a sign for Gate 213 up ahead and Skarrphace veers into the lobby area and towards the door that leads
to the outside. He strides right past the attendant at the door, merely waving his paper he had pulled out from his pocket.
Once through the door he makes his way down a flight of stairs and opens another door and suddenly you're outside.
You hear the sounds of planes and engines all around and you continue on with Skarrphace. He gets to a small leir jet
and walks up the steps to board it. As soon as you and he are aboard, the stewardess closes the door.
You recognize Xavier Apollo from the night before already on board and Skarrphace slaps hands with him in greeting as
he takes a seat across the plane from him.}}

Xavier Apollo: I didn't think you were gonna make it, 'Phace....

Skarrphace: I always make it, X, you know that....besides, I didn't want the daytime flights, too many people....anyway, did you get my message from earlier today?

Xavier Apollo: Yeah, I did....and I got what you asked for, although it wasn't easy....

{{Apollo reaches to the bag that was laying beside him and unzips the top of the bag. He reaches inside and pulls
out a bag. He hands the bag to Skarrphace and Skarrphace reaches in and pulls out two VHS-like tapes.}}

Xavier Apollo: Just like you asked for....one is a tape of Calhoun's past matches and the other is a tape of his interview done today....I think you definately got his attention.....

Skarrphace: Oh....so you watched the interview already huh? Yeah, well he'd better learn never to take someone like me likely....let's see what he had to say....

{{Skarrphace takes the tape marked "Today's Interview" and slides in in the VCR to his right.
He takes the remote control from the console and presses "PLAY" as soon as the tape is all the way in.
Suddenly, you hear the captain come on the speakers inside the cabin.}}

Captain Over: Yes, this is Captain Over....we are about to take off from LAX here in just a few moments so if you would observe the Seatbelt and No Smoking signs are turned on for your safety....please sit back, relax and enjoy your flight...next stop, Orlando, Florida....

{{Skarrphace and Xavier look at each other and just crack up as the interview starts up. After watching the interview,
Skarrphace stops the tape and looks to be pretty mad as he composes himself.}}

Skarrphace: So let me see if I've got this right....Calhoun is getting his piece of shit Lexus fitted with a system....and because he's a cheap mother fucker who wants to live life as a wannabe gangster, he pulls out a glock and threatens to kill a man over stereo equipment? Who the fuck is this guy?!? Listen up Calhoun, listen well. The world, as you know it, is coming to an end starting Wednesday night. This sort of bullshit is just what I was talkin' about....you wanna give the 'Phace a history lesson....how fuckin' quaint....but let me tell you a little something about history....when the 'Phace is involved, history has a way of changing....and besides, what you did in the past means absolutely NOTHING to me. I am the future of this sport, of this industry....and I am the one who will make or break hundreds upon thousands in this business....Calhoun, I am the Standard by which things are judged. Do you actually think YOU can say that about yourself? Think about that for a while as I get myself a drink....let that sink in....

{{Skarrphace stands up as he walks over to the small bar on the far end of the cabin.
He gets out a highball glass and a bottle of cognac. He reaches into a cooler and puts about 5 or 6 cubes of ice into the glass,
and they click around a bit as they settle in. He opens the bottle and fills the glass about halfway.
Closing the bottle and replacing it where he got it, he goes back to his seat, still looking focused.}}

Skarrphace: And another thing....since when do you have to walk around carrying weapons to be a man? The 'Phace walks around with his bare fists, but then again I don't go looking for trouble either....you see, it's absolute trash like you that makes me sick, and I can't wait to rid the UwF of your punkass come Wednesday night....do you see this? Take a look at me, Calhoun, take a long ass look, because I will be standing over you when it's all said and done and I will be the one moving on in the Universal Title Tournament....all you do with your time is think up more ways to talk shit and different languages, but it all says the same fuckin' thing to me....word after word comes out of your mouth, but the sound never changes....the tune never changes....the best bullshit artist in town, and that's you, Calhoun....the man with a gun. Big fuckin' deal....I tell you what, why don't you show up to Orlando with that gun, you fuckin' prick, and I'll take it and pistol whip your ass so bad, your mother won't recognize you....oh wait, you prolly shot your mother cuz she tried to get you to pay for something you thought was overpriced.....what a bastard. You talk like you want ME to recognize.....yeah, I recognize....I recognize fake-ass bullshit when I see it, and you are spittin' it out by the ton....feeding the public dose after dose of your Grade A bullshit and hoping...praying that they'll buy it. Well, CC, I'm not buyin' bro....and you have officially bought yourself a ticket into the worst beating of your life come tomorrow night....I'm gonna make sure that nobody....and I mean NOBODY ever takes the 'Phace lightly again....especially your punkass....

{{Apollo gets up and goes to the bar himself. As he's fixing his drink, Skarrphace leans into the camera.}}

Skarrphace: And one more thing, Calhoun....my name is spelled S-K-A-R-R-P-H-A-C-E....Skarrphace, the ONLY 1 THAT MATTERS....but you....you can just call me Champ.....if you actually think that you are ready to ride with the Only 1, then let's do this....hop up on the Merry-Go-fuckin'-Round.....and MOUNT UP....see you Wednesday, bitch....

{{Apollo comes back down and puts his seatbelt on as the plane begins to move.
Skarrphace presses "EJECT" on the remote control and takes the tape out of the VCR.
He take the other tape marked "Calhoun's Past Matches" and puts it into the VCR.
As he presses "PLAY" on the remote control, the scene fades out.}}