Taylor couldn't believe his eyes.

They were deceiving him.  They had to be.  How'd he done it?  Why'd he done it?  Why'd Taylor been naive enough to fall into the trap in the first place?

But, no.  Something really didn't add up.  Ramon had been a mess.  For ten years he'd been destroying himself with whatever toxins he could get his paws on.  There was no way a junkie could've outsmarted the Lone Gunman.  Of course, he hadn't.  Although still in a state of disbelief, Taylor saw right through it and saw that all the loose ends led back to the Entity.  It was the entity's doing.  Ramon was a puppet in the truest sense of the word.  Ramon had been bait.  Taylor bit his tongue, barely unable to fathom the realisation that he'd fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

...And now he was fucked, really and truly.

The Entity was all thinking and all seeing, certainly more so than Taylor himself.  Taylor had always prided himself on being just as much about psychologically picking apart an opponent as doing so physically.  This time, however, to his absolute disgust, he'd been duped.  The Entity had gotten him.  Through any number of means, the same end could've been reached, but they'd played the guilt card.  His jaw hanging ridiculously low, Taylor remembered something Ramon said, I'm not trying to ruin you.  Whether the man once known as the Speeding Bullet had been lying through his haggard teeth or if he had genuinely been kept out of the loop, John Taylor did not know.  What he did know was that the Entity had managed to salvage a particularly potent skeleton from the depths of his proverbial closet.

The pirate footage made available on the GZW website from an anonymous source could've been interpreted in any number of ways.  Taylor'd obviously been played like a fiddle and had been suckered in by Ramon's desperation.  The prison meeting was supposed to be in confidence.  Although he was an atheist, Taylor cursed himself a thousand times for not seeing the signs.  Ramon had called him.  Ramon, or whoever representative the entity had seen fit, had made the arrangement.  That alone should've encouraged Taylor to think twice about it.  But he'd been busy.  Preoccupied.  He sighed, as this was a flaw he saw and criticised in many an in-ring opponent.  He just assumed that Ramon had heard about his big win and was looking to make a quick buck.

He just assumed that.

Why the fuck did he just assume it?

Assumption was another big mistake, although Taylor still saw his original theory as a reasonable one.  When Ramon called him on the telephone, Taylor could instantly tell that he wasn't the man once touted as the future of Mexican wrestling.  Ramon sounded like a fading old man in a broken young man's body, and that's exactly what he was.  In spite of whatever contempt and hard feelings Ramon obviously still bore, Taylor couldn't help but see his former friend as harmless.  As far as Taylor knew, Ramon's brain was too fried to even understand the concept of spite and malice.  He certainly didn't believe that Ramon would even dream of a double cross, let alone if he could even do so.

Ramon had obviously made a tidy profit on the whole affair, and Taylor sternly believed that that was as far as the junkie's participation in it went.

It was bigger than Ramon Amador.  Far bigger.  Ramon's face was merely the one that the Entity chose to wear that day in Mexico City.  What was still unclear to the Lone Gunman, however, was just whose idea it was to cut the video footage short?  And for what purpose was it done?  The footage, if in the wrong hands, could prove to be incriminating.  Were the conclusion of the tape aired, Taylor could easily be fired, his name being simultaneously dragged through the most foul mud.  He knew the means, but what, exactly, was to be the end?

Then something came to him.  Even then, merely sitting at his computer desk trying to get his head around it all, he realised that his eye was being pulled away from its comfortable position on the ball, yet again.  The very same thing was what left him susceptible to being played by Ramon in the first place, but perhaps the video's sole purpose was to do just that again, just in time for the Lord of the Coliseum - when it would really have counted.

Maybe.  Whether it was that, blackmail or simply Ramon pulling a fast one with a makeshift shoot interview with the top man on the GZW roster, he wasn't sure.  He grunted.

"Living a lie?", he asked his barely decorated kitchen.  Expectedly, he received no response.  "Care to elaborate, Nathan Williams?  I can understand that dinner was getting cold and so you may have had to be a little more abrupt than usual, but really - can you do no better than that?  Is throwing out an overused, overly generalised line the best that can be expected from the man with the chance to become only the second dual CCW Heavyweight Champion?"

Taylor smiled to himself.  He knew the answer.  He said it over and over again in his mind before finally uttering it aloud; "Unfortunately, yes.  Williams, maybe now you'll start to see why you were never booked as much of a talker during your glory days.  You simply don't have it in you.  You were the guy that went out and dominated whomever it may have concerned.  Until, of course, you were completely overshadowed by the slightly larger Deacon Kane.  From there, you played second fiddle with a couple of strings missing to the only Lord of the Coliseum in history.  But of course, you know that far better than I do.  My point, dinosaur, is that your mic skills are deplorable.  You were labelled T-Rex for a reason - you were the voiceless giant that roared and smashed all who the fans saw fit.  Sadly, though, your species is on the verge of extinction.  Down to some poor judgement on your part, it will not be a quick death, but rather it is a slow, laborious one which is already in progress.  When'll it be time to finally throw in the towel?  That's up to you.  What isn't up to you, though, is your path in the Lord of the Coliseum tournament.  For whatever reason, you've got the Lone Gunman in the very first round.  I appreciate that you now see me as something more than just a partial threat, but I must also tell you flat out that you will go no further in the tournament than our match.  Through whatever means necessary, I'll progress to the second round to face either Seven or Pimp Bizkit.  Big words, perhaps, but it's simply the way it has to be.  It's been said that I have the most to lose going into this thing.  That's true.  It can also be said, however, that I've got the most to gain..."

Before going on, Taylor went over the possible repercussions of the video's ending being aired.  Before delving too deep, he tonelessly pressed on.

"Going into the tournament, I'm the World Heavyweight Champion.  Last time around, it was James "Monarch" Corbin standing in these very shoes.  The rules clearly state that the title is on the line throughout the tournament, which, in an ideal world, would mean that the eventual victor and Lord of the Coliseum would also be the World Heavyweight Champion.  Last time around, that didn't happen.  Monarch dropped out of the tournament, but did so in such a way that he technically never lost, and as such he retained his title whilst Deacon Kane went on to become the Lord of the Coliseum.  It is a known fact that neither man was completely satisfied with the outcome, as the true top man wasn't exactly decided.  It wasn't until the two eventually squared up with Monarch defeating the giant that the issue was even partially resolved.  This time around, though.  I am not going to drop out of the tournament for fear of losing my title belt.  If anything, I am going to put more than humanly possible into ensuring my victory across the board and ensuring that I emerge as the undisputed Lord of the Coliseum, simultaneously becoming the only World Heavyweight Champion to defend successfully three successive times in one night and the only World Heavyweight Champion to win the Lord of the Coliseum crown.  It's no small feat, but it is one whose rewards will truly be worth it.  That is what I see as mine to gain.  Recognition.  Respect.  A non-stop ride to the very, very top.  With the recent string of one-defence champions, it is my duty to prove myself as more than that.  Nathan Williams, doing that must come at your expense.  I'd apologise in advance, but it's simply the way it's got to be."

Taylor felt satisfied, knowing that he had expressed his point perfectly.  It was then that he recalled Pimp Bizkit's recent words, the most prominent concept being that of Pimp's deserved rematch against the World Heavyweight Champion.  "Don't worry, Pimp.  In spite of your less than enviable position at number eight in the contenders rankings, you'll get your rematch.  Let's not beat around the bush, you're going to beat Seven in the first round.  Seven is one of several placeholders within the tournament.  I pointed that out before.  He serves no purpose other than to further the tournament along.  He plays the same role played the Giggles/Wylder two years ago when he replaced James Corbin...  Pimp is all but predetermined to meet me in round two, in what is to be the second of three "rites of passage" style title defences.  It'll start with T-Rex.  That'll be followed by the Pimp Bizkit rematch.  Of course, the odds are on Sean Fiery making it to the final for what should be the go-home defence, the big one to finally cement my status, but it could just as easily be a Kid Kaos or an unknown like Jay Jameson.  That much is variable, interchangeable, but the first two rounds are practically fixed."

"The Entity has seen to that."

Taylor fell into a deep silence once more.  A million possible reasons and goals for filming Taylor's meeting with Ramon whizzed past.  He wasn't sure which, if any at all, to even bother clinging on to.  The thought that somebody...  Something...  Was trying to mess him up one way or another almost frightened him.  He quickly got that thought out of his head as he mechanically ran through the card and listings for the Lord of the Coliseum.  He simulated every possible outcome in his mind and found at least temporary solace in it.  Whatever the Entity was up to, it certainly had Taylor's road well planned.