Amid the humid serenity of Kowloon Park, he sat.  It was midday, and he was here for a reason far more practical than the simple killing of time.  He had a meeting.  Irritated that the other man had not yet shown, he closed his weary eyes and reclined back as far as the awkward park bench allowed him.

His rest proved to be only momentary.  Disturbed by the shrill ring tone of his sleek Motorola cell phone, he rose to his feet.

He answered, "It's Chester."

The voice on the other end spoke quickly and quietly.  Satisfied, he hung up promptly.  The other man was on his way.

"Not too long now," Chester Browne said to himself as he sat back down and retrieved an American newspaper from the inside pocket of his light jacket.

On the far side of Hong Kong, Lord John Taylor hung up his cell phone and lounged back into the luxurious back seat of the HKWF-branded limousine bestowed upon him by "Uncle" John Profit that morning upon arrival in Hong Kong.  He had resisted the offered luxury at first, of course, but the HKWF figurehead had been insistent.

"Driver," Taylor called, "I was just talking to him.  It's clear.  Go ahead as planned.  You know where to drop me off."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you," Taylor said, just as his phone rang once again.  This time it was somebody entirely different.  It was his lawyer, Larry Collins.  Taylor listened intently to what was rather unusual and unexpected news and then hung up.

"Everything alright, Mr. Taylor?" The driver asked, apparently quite concerned.

"Fine," Taylor lied.  "Nothing that'll get in the way of today's proceedings."

Back in Kowloon Park, Chester Browne was in a daze.  He'd grown tired of the newspaper and had drifted off into something of a daydream.  As usual, it was all in shades of grey.  His entire world went by at the speed of sound.  The other man.  Lord John Taylor.  Heatwave II and the part that needed to be played at it.

The hard slam of a car door brought him back to reality, a lot more slowly than he would've expected.  Before he could gather his bearings, he heard the car turn back from whence it came and get lost in the congested traffic of a Hong Kong afternoon.  Then he heard the footsteps.  Then he saw the other man.  Tall and lean, this wasn't the man to whom Chester had revealed the truth so long ago.  The man directly in front of him was.  The small man in the wheelchair being pushed forth, that was him.  The man who was so much further in debt to Chester than he'd ever realise:

"Ramon Amadore!" Chester greeted 'the other man' with enthusiasm.  This was Ramon Amadore, paraplegic former luchador and, most importantly to Chester Browne, an old friend of John Taylor's.  The friendship had been severed years ago, after Taylor broke the Mexican's spine and indirectly sent him on a downward spiral that saw him end up in prison for ten years.

Ramon nodded.  It was one of the few movements his oppressive body would grant him and one which he took full advantage of.  "Mister Browne...  I was surprised to hear from you so soon."

"I imagine you were.  I trust the flight over was to your satisfaction.  And call me Chester."

Chester, Ramon practiced.  "It sure was, Chester.  You know I really gotta thank you for everything...  Getting me out and all."

Chester smiled, thinking to himself: You have no idea.  "No problem, Ramon.  It's what friends do."

"We're...  Friends?"

"Kindred spirits, my boy.  We've got something major in common...  A shared associate.  You know who I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Juan," Ramon said with a genuine scowl.

"He goes by John these days, but that's the guy.  You know him very well, don't you?"  Well enough to make you valuable, Chester thought to himself.

"Si.  He's evil, Chester.  How did you say you know him again?"

"Funnily enough," Chester began, "I never did."

The ex-con stared up at him through dead eyes.

"It's not important right now, Ramon.  What is important is what you can do for me..."

The limousine pulled up outside the venue.  His appointment was for a half hour ago, but that didn't matter.  What John Taylor was about to tell his hosts - The four walls of the legendary HKWF promo room, "The Cell" - was going to be well worth the wait.

It was years since he had been in The Cell, and not once had he actually made a broadcast from it.  Today was going to be very different altogether.

When he reached the room, it was just as he remembered it - Dank, dark and musty.  The perfect setting.  He sat down and it all came to him.

"Hypocrisy is everywhere in professional wrestling, Seth." he began without flinching, and he never looked back.  "You call me a hypocrite, you instantly become one yourself.  You belittle some random midcarder, you're a hypocrite because you were once in his size-tens.  I know that I needn't go on, you'll have gotten the message by now.  The fact is that there is so much going on in Combined Championship Wrestling, chances are everybody is guilty of hypocrisy on some level.  Not that it's anything to feel guilty about.  Nine out of ten of those on the receiving end aren't worth getting stressed about...  I verbally rip Kid X or Viktor Kovalex to shreds one week just because they look at me funny and don't feel the need to follow up, then in some bullshit little way, I'm a hypocrite.  At the end of the day, it doesn't fucking matter.  I deal with so many worthless subordinates on a weekly basis, there's no point in keeping up anymore.

"Call me a hypocrite if you like, but if that's one of your 'wild cards' in defending yourself against allegations as urgent and true as those with which I charged you during the week, then my hypocrisy is the very least of your worries.  You need to get your priorities straight here, Raidesy...  You're labelling yourself the Lord of CCW, yet you can't defend yourself in nothing more than a distant debate?  Actually - more accurately - all you can do is brush aside my more substantial points and get so wound up in the little things in the hope of convincing your crowd that I never made them?  You should've been a politician, man.  I present to you the fact that you're being led on, unknowingly, by your HKWF higher-ups, and all you've got in the way of rebuttal is a swift and clean denial?  Yet, when I called you 'bald', in passing, you had a field day?  For shame, Seth.  In your position, you really can't afford to pick and choose your priorities.

"You ask me to show you proof of my claims?  That's not up to me.  I know it to be true, as does anybody with even half a brain and an open mind.  It's in your hands now.  It's up to you to give us some conclusive proof to the contrary.  Show me that I'm wrong.  Contradict me.  Call my bluff - I fucking dare you.  And don't even beat around the bush, either.  I act like you're a rookie?  How?  You're putting words in my mouth - or rather, on my actions - now, and that's just sweeping the real issues under the rug.  I'm not here to talk trash, Seth.  That's not what I do.  Deny it as you may, but I speak the truth.  I'm a realist.  Perhaps I don't always speak the whole truth right off the bat, but does a good poker player reveal his winning hand for his peers in advance?  No.  I know when I'm right, Seth.  And I'm right on this one.

"I was right about your inner craving for the limelight as well.  My limelight, apparently.  The difference is that, as if with the hand of God, I created my own highlight.  I generated interest and heat from absolute nothingness.  It's Genesis all over again.  And no, you didn't say it was a bad thing.  I didn't give you the chance to.  I simply called you a petty seeker of others' attention, and all you've done is proven that.  Right again.

"I'd rather not kiss your ass, so I'll take a rain check.  Kudos, though - Another fine testament that you are truly a master of all things argumentative.  And, oh wait, there's that little word again - 'act'.  I act like you're offending me?  I'd ask 'how', but I know better than to expect an answer.  Instead I'll just say that you're not.  What you're doing isn't offensive.  Or edgy.  Or raw.  None of the above is more like it.  You're doing nothing new here, don't forget that.  While I'm making history in GZW, you're picking up scraps as they come along - a HKWF World Heavyweight title win after the belt had been around the waist of three - count it, three - active GZW wrestlers...  And you call me a traitor for turning my back on that black hole of a promotion?  Please. 

"And you're ashamed to have ever been considered a peer of mine?  That makes what difference, again?  I should be ashamed for wasting so much time in HKWF, but I'm not.  I've learned from it.  I've learned not to be ashamed of the past, Seth.  And that's directly adverse to your little watering of the ego theory...  Wrong again for you, I'm afraid.  I'm not even going to go near this alleged fake plastic shit, though.  I'd like to see what else you've got in store there.  It's a winning angle, surely.  What's next?  Down with the man?  Anarchy?  Pretentious, teenage angst-ridden bullshit is all that is, Seth.  It's dead, and you've been poking at it with the same flimsy little stick for years now.  Move the fuck on and get that bald - yes, bald - head into the real world, for once.

"Speak first, think second...  That a motto to which you've become accustomed recently, by any chance?  I didn't call you a coward, Seth.  I didn't give you that distinction.  Funny that this, what stands out the most in your mind, is the tip of the very topic you've dodged so insistently.  Ignoring your childish little denial of the whole thing, John Profit is the coward in this.  You're the deceived muscle put in place...  The means to the only end that can save HKWF.  I'm not going to crawl back to that miserable place - during a house show, no less - to challenge you for a title I don't even want.  Don't you see that?  The problem lies not with the fact that you aren't putting your title on the line at Heatwave, but with the way you so blindly perceive it.  One of your set ideas, most likely.  Set ideas are the foundation of failure, Seth.  Things need to evolve.  If one dry little prude believes that to be set in his ways is the key to success, then the world isn't going to stop for him - It's going to trample over him.  It's going to grow around him and overcome him.  That you are too stubborn to even consider this is laughable.  In the end, it'll be your loss.

"I said months ago that only when I truly need the HKWF title will I actively seek it.  I'm certainly not going to give you the bragging rights you so desperately need by answering your 'call' and wandering out to an unprotected ring into nothing but an ambush.  You seem to have misinterpreted my problem with the match.  It's on principle apart from anything else.  It won't be solved by a makeshift title match on a house show, it'll be fixed with your admission that you - a 'rebel' - are being used as a last ditch effort to save a dying corporation.  You can spare the little kindergarten play as well, that won't suffice here.  This is Combined Championship Wrestling...  The beauty of it is that things can happen - that is to say, titles can be defended - anywhere.  Even your old pal Len DuBrey defended the prestigious Hong Kong title on a GZW show or two...  This falls back to your set ideas, I'm sure.  Work on that.

"It seems as though I struck a nerve when speaking of your attempts at the Unified title...  So much so that you felt obliged to belittle mine, at Crimson's "At Our Best".  That's right, Lord Of The Coliseum night '04.  Pretty funny.  The problem with how you see it is this:  I could've taken a shit in the ring that night and it would've rightfully been hailed as a breakthrough...  A revolutionary development...  Another career-defining act to add to the collection.  You're honestly trying to tell me that I didn't go all out that night, even against Nathan Williams?  You're wrong, I'm afraid.  My title was on the line throughout, yes.  It wasn't my decision, no.  But I took it as face value and dealt with it.  I couldn't afford to lose it just weeks after winning it.  That's the greatest incentive, really.  Desperation and urgency.  Thing is, you don't have that going into Heatwave.  You've got someone else's comfort, corporate backing and security.  It's an enviable position, of course.  I won't dispute that.  But, more should be expected of a World Heavyweight Champion looking to triple his fortunes.

"And, ummm, you showing up to spoil the party?  I suppose that was all part of the master plan as well?  Just so that, what, eight months on, you'd get some bonus bragging rights?  Or perhaps it was because you were at the time stuck in a dull war of your own with that lummox.  Yeah, that's the one.  This time, I'll proudly acknowledge that I wasn't important to you that night.  You cut that match short by ten minutes, but only a fucking moron would believe that the result would've been any different had you not shown up.  Williams is obviously that fucking moron, so we'll forget about him for the time being.  If you're honestly trying to argue that I was handed that belt, then please do tell what you think of your own situation.  If being forced to defend a title against a seven foot idiot who happens to have a title of his own hanging out of his fat ass is being handed something, then you, sir, are looking to have the Triple Crown flown in by private jet.

"Still getting that skull of yours busted open, I hear.  No less impressive than when I've heard that the other thousand times, but nonetheless - good point.

"That temper of yours seems to have gotten the better of you again, by the way.  I was pleasantly surprised to hear that you went on to put more words in my mouth.  What where they, again?  Not worth sifting through is what they are.  You did seem to be of the opinion that I was calling you some sort of pushover, though.  A rookie, even.  That's just not right, Seth.  Don't jump the gun like that, you'll give yourself a hernia.  I know what you can do, and it's impressive.  Don't worry about that.  That isn't the issue as far as I'm concerned.  However, if you're going to get hung up on bullshit like this, then perhaps it is.  As far as you becoming Triple Crown Heavyweight Champion doing serious damage to CCW - I stand by that.  Not because of a lack of ability or talent, but by your head being so far in the clouds and up your own ass that you, in my professional opinion, aren't right for the part.  I'm not trying to convince a soul that I'll walk all over you.  The very fact that our match is a Pay-Per-View main event proves that that won't be the case...

"You just aren't coming at this from the right angle.  Believe it or don't, you're not ready for this.  You've got a shitty and stubborn little attitude when it comes to this sort of thing.  You're looking for immediate success...  Nowrightnowallmineminemine.  And you're looking no further.  That's the problem.  That, with no pun or cliché intended, will be the downfall of your reign, should the unthinkable happen.  I can see that your intentions are focussed solely inward, and that'll be a major problem.  Of course there's Profit's plan that you still refuse to acknowledge, but that you have such a stern belief despite having heard the truth must be downright scary for the more enlightened higher-ups of Combined Championship Wrestling.  You're not even defending your own title, on one of the biggest Pay-Per-View appearances of your life...  How in the hell are we supposed to believe you'll defend THREE titles, on a routine basis?

"You won't.  You'll get bored.  It won't be different enough for you.  You'll slack.  You'll snag.  Eventually, it'll all unravel, but at that stage HKWF by association with the Triple Crown championship will have restored itself.  Everybody wins.  Except you.  You fall.  Hard.

"John Profit will be the overall winner, though.  You don't think the evidence is right there in front of you?  My word isn't good enough?  It's just a 'crutch' to lean on - Protecting me from what, exactly, by the way?  HKWF has been going down for quite some time now.  Desperate measures were called for, Seth.  Although it might've been packaged nicely, it's all in plain view.  The triumvate of GZW wrestlers holding the HKWF Championship...  The interfed TV deals and appearances...  Even the appointment of Jackie Lee as General Manager.  It was all one big publicity stunt, based on nothing.  And it crumbled.  People got fired.  People left.  Networks cut contracts.  Look at the world around you and say out loud, 'HKWF has absolutely nothing to gain by helping me win the Triple Crown.'  I bet you can't do it.

"I could spend weeks pointing out how much of a headstrong, high-strong fucking tool you are, Seth.  But there's no point, because you'd just fire back with more of the same.  Instead, I'll just advise to really think hard and genuinely listen to what people tell you before just firing back on instinct...

"I guess I'll leave you and love you for now, Seth.  Oh...  One more thing: Next time you call me out, take the time to check that I'm actually in the fucking country at the time..."