The following is an edited MP3 recording of a phone call between DisOrder members Reject and the injured Brian Sabre available for download at the official GZW2K1 Website.

"I know, Brian.  But it's something I have to do."

"That may well be, comrade, but it is suicide to go out there without DisOrder backup.  Do you not see that?"

"Brian, is that the purpose the DisOrder serves?  Do we exist solely to give each other backup?  To bail each other out when the challenge becomes too great?"

"No...  But you know as well as I that you're not going out there facing a legitimate challenge...  Jameson's a spoilt brat, he wouldn't know honour in competition if it dropped him stiffly on his head through a table."

"I know...  Which is why it is my duty to beat it into him.  This was a man who, mere months ago, was in contention for my HKWF Hardcore title.  If this is my last match, I've got to leave a lasting impression right across his little forehead.  If Jay Jameson's career is going to outlast my own, then I owe it to hardcore wrestling to teach him a lesson that'll stay with him for life."

"Listen to yourself, man.  You're Reject.  You don't owe anything to hardcore wrestling...  Over the years you've given 'hardcore wrestling' new life.  Don't let this be your last match.  It'd just be giving Clancy McClean and his cohorts what they want!  They yearn to cash in on your last big match scenario, 'Ject.  They're mass-producing T-Shirts, my friend.  You want honour and distinction, then go back to HKWF today.  Leave on your own terms, not Clancy McClean's!"

"Brian, I'm not going to take the easy way out.  My terms won't be fulfilled until I've got McClean and Jameson's heads on a couple of skewers."

"...Then make them work for it!  You go to Hong Kong.  Jackie Lee welcomes you with open arms, the GZW execs can't touch you because your contract was up for termination anyway.  They want you so bad, let them come to you."

"You honestly believe that's how it is, Brian?  The thing is, they don't want me that bad...  Not in the ring, anyway.  McClean wants rid of me, full stop.  He sees me as the clichéd thorn in the side of the wannabe executive.  Jay Jameson wants whatever McClean says he can give him...  The condition of that deal is that I'm out of the picture.  The key is that it doesn't matter how that happens.  Once I'm gone, the good times for Jameson roll.  If I leave now, on my terms, it'll do nothing but speed up the process and make less work for McClean and Jameson.  Clancy McClean couldn't give a shit if I go to HKWF, UJW or the side of a street somewhere.  As long as I'm not competing in his company, he's on cloud nine.  That means that the only effect me walking out would have would be to simply give Jameson more undeserved rewards for something he wouldn't have been able to do..."

Silence on the other end.

"This isn't like you and Monarch or Taylor and Raide, Brian.  Jameson isn't looking to best me.  He knows he simply doesn't have it in him to do it.  Jameson is looking for attention, pure and simple.  It doesn't matter to him if that comes through a match with me or a million squash matches against Nathan W. and Rico. J...  In fact, he'd probably prefer it to come through that than to have to endure a Last Man Standing match with me.  He's an obnoxious punk, Brian, but he's not stupid.  It's obvious he was raised better than that.  I'd be doing him a favour by simply walking out, and I'll willingly inject my veins with the most noxious Heroin before I do that toe rag anything resembling a favour...  I think you'll see that leaving now and letting them work for their meal just isn't an option."

"I see.  Let's say your right, then, and it comes to the Last Man Standing match...  Jameson's not stupid, right?"

"Not totally."

"Right.  So do you think he's going to walk out and face you, man to man?  Do you think he's going to make it that easy for you?"

"He doesn't possess the power or will to make anything other than sexist jokes and beer bongs, Brian.  If you are truly concerned, you should probably focus that concern on Clancy McClean and whatever he might have planned.  He's got to know that Jameson hasn't a chance of being the Last Man Standing..."

"...But that's not his goal.  You said yourself that his priority is to get rid of you."

"Exactly."

"So assumedly he's banking on something other than Jameson winning.  He's a smart son of a bitch, that McClean..."

"Smarts will only get a man so far, Sabre.  Especially when such a man's goal is to get rid of Reject."

"That may well be, but you know he's planning something.  He's got contacts, Reject.  He's got the Executive Committee in one hand-"

"No, he doesn't.  He might think he does, but he doesn't.  McClean is-"

"Listen to me, 'Ject.  Whatever angle you want to look at it from, he's got you outnumbered.  He accompanies Jay to the ring...  Instantly, you're outnumbered.  No, he's not a wrestler, but he's practically untouchable.  You lay a finger on him and all of a sudden contract termination and assault against a minor are the least of your worries...  Add to that this guy Quake, Jameson's new best pal.  What about Eclipse?  He and McClean still talk, so I hear.  What about the rest of What Money Can Buy, wherever they are?  He's got dirt on Richards, too.  The point is that he's owed a LOT of favours by a LOT of people.  People a lot bigger and nastier than Jay Jameson...  Do you see where I'm going?"

"...Backup."

"Yeah..."

"We've been through this already, Brian.  And just because the match means little to McClean and Jameson, that doesn't mean I don't care about it.  In fact, it means more to me than any pissy affair with Electric Sharpe or Mr. Klown...  I'm out of here after Destiny Fulfilled, that's practically set in stone.  Taking McClean and Master Jameson with me, however, is a cause I am more than willing to fight for.  It's worth being outnumbered.  It's worth being battered and bruised.  It's worth whatever it takes, comrade.  I'm not afraid to lose blood for this, Brian...  I'm not afraid to lose fans for this, Brian...  I'm not afraid to DIE for this, Brian..."

Sabre sighs on the other end.

"My time has come.  I can see that clearly.  But it doesn't worry me or concern me.  It certainly doesn't scare me.  It excites me, Brian.  It's given me a burst of adrenaline I haven't felt in months...  Finally it's something to convince me that this life is worth living, after all.  For once it's something that breaks away from the norm.  No longer will a Reject match on a GZW broadcast conform to the sample set out by the event schedule.  This means something, Sabre..."

"I can tell.  Just remember that, in one form or another, the DisOrder will be there for you."

There is a long pause.

"...I will."

"Good.  I've got physio in ten minutes, I've got to jet.  Good luck, my friend.  Don't hesitate to call on us."

"Goodbye, Brian."

Two simultaneous clicks signal the end of the conversation as both men hang up.  Silence.