"Finally, something concrete after nearly a month in veritable purgatory."

Staring down the camera lens, John Taylor spoke.  More than a hint of cynicism was evident in his distant, cold voice. 

"It's been a long time coming, though.  For the past month, I've sat around uncomfortably as everyone from Willie Haire to Brian Sabre receives the airtime that I deserve.  Sure, I was entered into the Contest Of Champions battle royale, but what is that?  Nothing but a human game of bingo.  It was a stroke of luck that James Tanner was even still in the ring by the time the man once known as Hero showed up and made his mark.  It was a fluke that he was able to get Seven over the top rope...  But really, is that anything to be proud of?  Anyone could put anyone over the top rope.  It requires no skill, no planning...  It's simply a case of being in the right place at the right time...  Tanner is clearly not ready for his World Heavyweight Title shot, and that will become clear over the next few weeks.  Some day, were he able to mature as a performer, then the title could be within his grasp.  Not today, though..."

"But excuse me, I'm digressing.  My original point was that gimmick matches, rookie tournaments and a seemingly endless string of tag team matches have prevented the Lone Gunman from competing as regularly as I would have liked.  This impromptu state of inactivity has irritated me to no end, but fortunately all that is about to come to an end this Wednesday.  This Wednesday, I step into the ring with Jimmy Williams.  I know Williams all too well, but not necessarily for the right reasons.  It wasn't all that long ago that he and I were engaged in one of the time's most publicised war of words.  Why?  Because a showdown between he and I was all but signed for the semi finals of the World Heavyweight Championship tournament.  Provided, of course, that he could get past Joshua Cleaver and I could get past the supposed "Untouchable", Kaine..."

"I held up my end of the bargain.  Big Country, on the other hand, couldn't.  He shocked the world on that fateful night on Crimson when he squealed and tapped out to an Octopus Stretch from the self-proclaimed "King Of GZW".  Well, perhaps 'shocked' isn't the most appropriate term.  When the helpless Jimmy did tap, he effectively tore his credibility to shreds.  This was a man billed as one of the very toughest in the world, billed as the greatest Extreme champion this side of Seth Raide.  Why, then, would he throw it all away and admit defeat as he so did?  Would it not have helped him save face if he'd just allowed himself to pass out or to blatantly get disqualified?  I know, it's all well and good to say this in hindsight, but it still bears some relevance.  Going into the tournament in the first place, myself and Jimmy were two very different men coming from two very different places."

The view turned blurry as Taylor apparently twisted at the camera's focus lens.

"I was nothing.  I was labelled as 'past it', 'too old', a 'never-has-been', 'washed up', even a quitter by one Jimmy Williams.  Ironic, to say the least.  The man that once loved to be referred to as 'Big C', however, was in a very different place altogether.  Jimmy was on the verge of cementing his position as a bona fide main eventer.  It was all within his grasp.  He had everything going for him.  Combining that with the lack of true Main Event talent within the tournament, many expected T-Rex Junior to go all the way.  Soon enough, he and I caught each others' attention.  It was inevitable, and it came into fruition ten fold.  Dirt was dug up from anywhere possible, all sorts of trash talk was exchanged, but the key argument for Jimmy's case was a simple one - The Lone Gunman was a midcarder that quit under pressure.  Jimmy Williams was more or less a main eventer that wouldn't quit.  He was bad.  He was tough.  He was this, that and the other."

The view returned to normal, focussed on what was probably Taylor's left eye.  The stone dead cluster of brown fluid stared inexpressively down the lens as Taylor was heard breathing heavily before continuing.

"...What was my argument, then?  That Jimmy sucked?  That the Lone Gunman would wipe the floor with him?  No.  My argument was a rational and logical one, one that has since proven to be true.  I argued that the outcome of the tournament, and specifically the match between himself and myself that never actually happened, would either be make or break time for the "Real Deal".  Coming back from an injury sustained from the undefeated World Heavyweight Champion, Paul Spartan, Jimmy had all the momentum in the world.  But, it was gravely important that he strike while the proverbial iron was hot.  Why?  For any number of reasons.  The imminent return of his big brother, for one thing.  Whilst sharing the first two-time Heavyweight Champion's last name would do Jimmy no harm in terms of credibility, there really is no substitute for the real thing.  As soon as Nathan returned, the window of opportunity for his little brother would be shut for the foreseeable future.  Were Jimmy to ever make it, he would have had to do so before Nathan's big return.  He knew that just as well as I did, but for the sake of his image, he wouldn't acknowledge it..."

"...And look what that did for him.  Nathan is back, and doesn't appear to be going anywhere for the time being.  His big brother's presence will forever hold Big Country back in some way, shape, form or fashion.  There isn't room enough for two brothers at the top.  Ask Justin Sharp.  On top of that, Jimmy's already been out lapped in terms of title opportunities and moving up the card by Tonya Glory, James Tanner, Kid Kaos, Joshua Cleaver among others.  I have no doubt that Jimmy's tapping out to Cleaver symbolised something of a role reversal.  Whereas after Crimson that night, Jimmy choked on some particularly potent humble pie, I strolled away one step closer to the World Heavyweight Championship.  I never made a huge deal about it, I just went out and did what was necessary.  That night, I became what Jimmy Williams was on the verge of becoming.  Equally, that night marked the start to a dire losing streak for the man once proud to label himself the "Real Deal"...  Jimmy then began his descent to somewhere between a curtain jerker and a midcarder."

"Sounds familiar?  Probably because I was stuck in that same position for years in HKWF.  I know what it's like, but I've also learned how to get out of it and how to avoid ever falling into it in the first place...  The fact that Jimmy ate his big words and slipped down a sizable amount of rungs was merely an added bonus..."

"However..."

Taylor took a step back, his entire face clearly in view.

"However, Jimmy may now be on the verge of something close to redemption.  In six days, he'll step into the ring, a humbled man, to face the Lone Gunman in a tables match.  Although not exactly a gourmet situation, it'll no doubt serve a purpose.  In all likelihood, I'll walk out of Wednesday Metal victorious, beating Williams at his own game in the process.  Should that happen, it just may be the final nail in the coffin for the man's career as a serious performer.  His infinite game of ping-pong with "Buzzing" Electric Sharpe must come to an end some time.  The Real Deal is in desperate need of a direction.  Unless he can truly pull an upset, that direction will be straight down..."

Taylor stroked at his goatee for a moment, something of an inviting smile coming across his otherwise inexpressive face.

"Like I said, Jimmy, this is your chance at redemption.  You've now got the opportunity to rebuild a considerable amount of credibility lost over the past few months while settling a score in the process.  Let the war of words resume..."

The scene faded to black as Taylor hung onto the last few words for a moment.