*These are the words spoken by Christopher Jefford, who on Breakdown made his in ring debut with the XWA. He lost his debut match against a wrestler named mOp, which Jefford thought would be a pushover, but ended up losing to in a narrow loss. As for what he's eluding to in this conversation with his friend/manager Gregory Dixson is unknown, what is known, however, is that they are back in Christopher's private locker room after Breakdown's tv portion ended, and the dark after matches begin.*

What are you talking about man?

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK I'M TALKING ABOUT GREG? I JUST LOST MY FIRST MATCH TO A SECOND RATE SCRUB! WHERE WERE YOU!

Dude, I got locked in the locker room, apparently somebody shoved a 2x4 through the handles after you left for prep, and I couldn't get out until after the match when somebody finally heard me yelling and took them out.

Wow, are you serious?

Serious as a heart attack.

*Jefford ponders for a minute. Who could possibly be dead set against Gregory Dixson not coming to the ring with him? Then, it becomes obvious.*

I know exactly who did it. It was those two gay dudes that hang out with mOp, they didn't want you out there because they knew what we were up to! Those no good cheating bastards.

*Greg rolls his eyes behind Christopher's back, amused at the fact that he would call them cheaters for trying to prevent him from cheating himself.*

This is complete and total BS Greg. You're my manager, you get paid for coming to the ring with me, that's your job!

Yea, I see what you're saying man, but there's nothing we can do about it now. You lost the match fair and square, and that's all there is to it.

Correction Greg, I didn't lose that match fair and square, I got CHEATED out of that match because those two homo buddies of his prevented my manager from coming to the ring. As far as i'm concerned, this match is null and void, never happened, non existant, phony, Santa Claus, whatever.

Oh come on, it's just one match, we all lose sometimes, it's nothing to get royally pissed off over, you'll get over it.

Over what?

Over your loss to mOp like two hours ago.

Loss? mOp? What loss to mOp? I didn't have a match did I?

*In amazement, Gregory just stares at Christopher, amazed that his best friend, the man who used to always own up for his mistakes, play by the rules, and love the people, would turn into such a crybaby over one meaningless match.*

Everything is going to be alright Chris, c'mon, let's go get some chow, i'm starving.

I thought you told me earlier that you were broke?

I was, but i'm your manager now, i'll use some of tonight's pay.

Tonight's pay? As in your pay for the night? For managing me?

Well yea man, what other kind of pay do I get nowadays?

You're not getting paid for tonight.

Say what?

You're not getting paid for tonight.

What? Why not?

You are being paid to be my manager, and tonight, you weren't my manager, simple as that Greg.

Dude, it wasn't my fault that I was trapped in here all night long, you think I wanted to be in this place the entire show? You know I get claustrophobic, besides, i'm your best...

That's beside the point Greg, your job is to manage, to help me win my matches, and tonight, you let me down, you weren't there, you let some A ball chump hit my best heat, once again, even after all of the guarantees from you and that scumbag Chris Wall, I got screwed! I just can't catch a damn break, it's always one thing or another, someone is always out to get me, I just never thought it would be you Greg.

*Dixson glares at Jefford, amazed at such a scumbag he has become in such a short time. Never in his life has he heard Christopher Jefford complain about losing, but worst of all, other than complaining, his best friend is blaming him for the loss, when he wasn't even at ringside.*

I'm going to let you cool off, you've obviously blown a gasket man, this isn't you, you calm down, and i'll see you later alright?

*Before Jefford can respond, Dixson strides past him and out the door, destination unknown. Chris just watches him leave, and after the door shuts behind him, he picks up the small television monitor that broadcasts the show to his locker room and hurls it at a wall, obliterating the device.*

I knew I shouldn't have come here, guaranteed contract or not, private locker room or not, it's not worth it if i'm going to get screwed like this each and every week! I'm going to straighten this out, i'm going to go find that piece of crap Chris Wall and beat his ass! And i've already wrestled my first match, if i'm fired, so what? I get all of the guaranteed money from the contract, a pretty penny to say the very least.

*Jefford smirks evily. He grabs a pair of blue basketball shorts, reminiscent of his Dusty J days, and puts them on, followed by a green and black "XWA Rulez" t shirt, and heads out of his locker room.*

*Scene shifts to the Xtreme Owner's office. Chris Wall is shown sitting at his desk, all smiles, filling out some paperwork per usual. But why shouldn't he be smiling? He owns a famous worldwide wrestling company, and is going to be competing for his own World Heavyweight Championship, imagine that, and owner and champion, as if he didn't have all the stroke already. Before he can feel too good about himself, Christopher Jefford comes barging through the door and storms to his desk, then pounds his fist on it and starts yelling.*

THAT SON OF A BITCH MOP LOCKED MY GUY IN MY DRESSING ROOM! THE CONTRACT SAYS IF I HAVE A MANAGER, HE MUST BE RINGSIDE! IT'S IN THERE IN BIG BOLD LETTERS WALL!

Whoa whoa, calm the hell down Jefford, why is it that everytime I see you, you're whining about something?

IT'S NOT WHINING, IT'S IN CONTRACT, BLACK AND WHITE, THE CONTRACT HAS BEEN VIOLATED, AND SINCE YOU'RE THE OWNER, YOU OWE ME AN AWFULLY BIG PAYCHECK!

*Wall digs through his filing cabinet and finds the Christopher Jefford contract. Turns out Jefford was right, it is a violation, but Wall sees the amount of money he would owe, and his eyes widen. He looks up at Jefford.*

Calm down now kid, just calm down. Now, you're right about the contract, it says that, I got it. But, there's no way you're leaving this company.

Oh really?

Yeah, really. Hell, sure, i'll pay you this damn money, do you think money means anything to me? I'm rich damnit! I have ubers more money than your contract is worth, it's not skin off my nose. But let me tell you this, if you walk out that door right now, you're never working in this company again, NEVER. And i'll see to it that your ass doesn't work in any major wrestling organization in North America again too. You are not as big and bad as you think you are, you're just like the other wrestlers, only with a stupid incentive laden contract I never should've given you if I knew what a whiny little creep you are. Be that as it may, you're not walking out that door, you may care about money as your number one priority, but I know this isn't enough for you, you want more, because that's how you are, a greedy scoundrel. And you know if you walk out now, my promises, my GUARANTEES, are not bullshit, this is going to be your last big payday.

We'll see about that, old man. You should be very proud of yourself, you just lost the greatest professional athlete in the world today, tomorrow, and yesterday.

*Jefford turns his back to Chris Wall and begins trodding off to the door, ever so slowly, as if trying to call a potential bluff by the Xtreme Owner. Jefford gets to the door and grabs hold of the knob, then begins to turn it ever so slowly, waiting, anticipating Chris Wall to beg for him to come back, whether or not he believes it will happen or not. He opens the door as wide as it can and puts one foot outside of the office, then turns back to Wall, who has gone back to doing paperwork. Noticing that this is either no bluff, or Wall is just very very good at this game, he puts his foot back in, shuts the door, walks back infront of the desk, and takes a seat in the chair infront of it.*

How does it feel Jefford? How does it feel to lose at your own game? You're not who I thought you were, you're nothing but a primadonna, a greedy, selfish, glory hound who cares only for himself.

Glory hound? Well excuse me Mr. Owner, Mr. CEO, Mr. Big Stuff, but if my mind serves me right, you put yourself in the World Heavyweight Title match at Revenge.

You know damn well that Stevie Radical can't compete due to his concussion, don't you dare scrutinize me for that decision. I needed a last minute replacement, and for such an "old man" i'm in better shape than you, hell, I was the best option!

*Jefford begins to laugh and speak incoherently due to it, he can't get over what Chris Wall just said to him. He tries to speak again, still inbetween laughs.*

So let me get this straight....ha ha ha.....your best option was, ironically, yourself? Ha....when your number one prize is sitting right here in front of you? Face the facts Wall, the contract shows it, that match against mOp, shouldn't even have counted, I never lost, and since you insist on putting him in the match anyway, why not throw me into the mix instead of being the selfish fool that you are and inserting yourself into the equation?

Because Jefford, whether you like or not, you did lose, you lost fair and square, as far as Gregory Dixson being trapped goes, i'll deal with Erick and Patrick later. The bottom line is, you didn't win, you don't deserve to be there, and I made the decision I felt was best for the company.

*Jefford just glares at Wall, his expression from laughing hysterically to madly pissed off in a matter of seconds. For he truly believes all of the BS that comes out of his mouth in his own mind.*

But I do have something for you to do at Revenge, and it is rather important if I do say so myself.

And what would that be?

Oh trust me, you'll find out soon enough, but as for the immediate future, next week on Breakdown, you have a match against DLS. So instead of bitching about your own failure, how about you go out and try to win a match, and shall DLS beat you, I can't wait to see your head explode.

Bite me. I'm going to make DLS wish he never got into wrestling, just you wait.

Don't just sing it, BRING IT!

*Jefford gets up from the chair and kicks it backward onto the ground. He then hurriedly leaves the office of the Xtreme Owner, while Chris Wall can only shake his head.*