TD: Personally, I hope Chow catches up with Lau and deals with him once and for all. Moving on; the comments have being coming in for a while now, and it looks like we're finally going to find out just who the Lady DeWinter is bringing into the IIWF. And so far, she's certainly got my attention... SR: Yeah, I could tell that by the look on your face when she invited you to dinner... TD: And just what is that supposed to mean? BL: You were all over that classless tramp. TD: Becky, please! The Lady DeWinter is one of the most elegant, beautiful women I have ever set eyes on. In any case, just over a week ago, Milady started dropping hints about a man, whom she claims is the world's most gifted technical wrestler. I'm still sceptical -- how many men have made that claim before? SR: Too many, Dross. However, I have a feeling that this might not be so lofty a claim... [Lady DeWinter is walking down to a raised interview area near ringside, accompanied by a footman. She is wearing an elegant Versace gown, with one leg split to the hip. She stops for a second, giving the crowd a look of complete disdain.] TD: Admittedly, her attitude could do with a little fine-tuning. SR: She looks perfect to me. Maybe you're even less of a man than I thought, if that's possible. Her "man" can't have been too pleased with the way you were slavering over her at dinner. BL: Which did you find more appetising, Timmy? The fine French cuisine, or that... [nearly spits] bitch? SR: For your sake, Dross, you'd better not have upset her main squeeze. TD: You know who it is, don't you? SR: Hey, I do my research... TD: Who is it, then? SR: Shut up, Dross. Barry Moron's about to conduct the interview. [Lady DeWinter steps onto the platform and walks up to Larry Morton, giving the crowd a cold look.] LM: Lady DeWinter, over the last week or so you have been talking about a wrestler you are planning to introduce into the IIWF. And in the process, you have made some, very, erm... very unladylike comments about the United States. DeW: Mr. Morton, everything about this country disgusts me. [The crowd starts booing.] The filth I see in the streets is completely appalling [she glares at the crowd] and the people have no respect for social class or station whatsoever. I regret nothing that I have said. LM: That isn't a very nice attitude coming from a guest to our country.. DeW: [laughing] Guest, you call it? I'm here on business, and that's all. If I had the choice, I would be gracing the courts of Europe. LM: [fighting to be heard above the crowd] Milady, I'm going to be frank here. You've said a lot about your wrestler, but you have yet to tell us exactly who he is. Will you please put us out of our misery and bring him out here? DeW: [snatching the mic] Certainly, Mr. Morton, if you would be so kind as to step back... [she addresses the crowd, who are booing everything she says] Now I would like all of you proletarian imbeciles to kindly stand up and show some respect for the man weighing in at 275lbs, and hailing from Lancashire, England... ["Intermezzo" from Sibelius' "Karelia" Suite starts up over the PA system.] SR: [almost in awe] No way... DeW: ...for the man who may very well be the single, greatest, technical wrestler in the world today... SR: Out of my way, Dross, I've gotta be involved in this! TD: Steve, wait! You know who it is? Too late... Steve's on his way up to the interview platform. DeW: ...stand up and show the proper respect for.. Looooord Byyyyrron!! [The crowd boo deafeningly. A well built and handsome man steps out of the dressing room area and into the aisle. He has his blonde hair tied back in a small bob, and is elegantly dressed in an expensive Versace suit. He is also carrying a long black brass topped walking cane. Without even acknowledging the crowd, he walks straight towards the interview area, a look of smug superiority on his face. In the background, Steve Roberts and Larry Morton are having a tug of war with the mic.] SR: Give me that mic... Lord Byron! Sir! Come up here... [Steve offers a handshake to Byron, who accepts, wipes his hand on his jacket and folds his arms. Lady DeWinter walks up behind Byron and puts her arms around his waist. Byron shrugs her off irritatedly.] SR: Okay, let me be the first to welcome you here to the IIWF, and may I say, sir, what a pleasure it is to meet you. Byron: [speaking in an unmistakably British accent] Steve, let me make one thing perfectly clear, right here, right now. I am here, quite simply, to wrestle. And when I wrestle, I wrestle to win. I really couldn't give a damn about what all you miserable peons out there think. I am not here to win your respect or your popularity, I am here to win matches. You see, Steve, over the past few months, I've been hearing a great deal about this federation, about the heated competiton, about the [sneers] incredibly talented athletes et al. Well, so far tonight, I have been very disappointed. I have seen nothing at all to suggest that any of the wrestlers here could even begin to present a challenge to me. [The crowd roars in anger. Byron ignores them.] Byron: So what I am going to do here is send out a warning. To people like you, Chris Quigley. To people like Dan Kauffman, Don Antonio and the Subway Psycho. The so-called [sneer] top competition here in the IIWF. If all your individual talents were combined into one, you would still fall some way short of the ability I possess. I'm here to show you just what a true professional wrestler can do, and if that means that I have to go through every single one of you miserable clowns, that is exactly what I will do. DeW: [putting her arm around Byron's shoulder] It doesn't matter who it is, my Lord will accept any challenge, any time, anywhere. He is _the_ greatest technical wrestler this world has ever produced, and once you meet him in the ring, you will begin to see how he has earned that title. And you will wish that you had never been so stupid as to doubt him. Byron: As I said, I am here to win. And noone is going to stop me. Steve, it has been an honour speaking to you. Ciao. ["Intermezzo" from "Karelia" Suite starts up again, and Byron performs a mocking French bow to the crowd, before taking the Lady DeWinter's hand and leading her down the steps and back to the locker room area.] TD: What arrogance! If Byron thinks he can just waltz in here and put the badmouth on people like Dan Kauffman and Chris Quigley, he's got another thing coming! BL: Er, Timmy, I hate to tell you this, but he just did.