*Michael is seated in an office at the Sears Center. His hands are over his face and he lets out a deep breath. He looks up and a camera crew is starting straight at him. He tells the camera man to come closer*. Michael: Dat fucking Kid. *Michael throws a binder and a lamp off his desk in rage*. Michael: That fucking clown thinks he can do this? I'm not a child, Kid. I know you did that to Dragon. I know you tried disrupting our show because you're dingy ass isn't on the card. I know that you think you're fucking clever. I know that you're proud of yourself, but the time for pride is over. *Michael leans back and closes his eyes as he tries to calm down*. Michael: I've already ended you, you bastard. I've pinned you down and proven that you're the old guard. I've proven that you're the past and this, me, I am the present. I don't need you to sell tickets. I've buried your saggy ass six feet under. You're just a liability. But it seems that your ghost has come back to haunt us. *Michael leans close into the camera, red in the face, shaking with anger*. Michael: I have nothing to prove, but I'll be sure that someone will step up. The time for metaphor is over. Kid, you black bastard, you will be vanquished...but not by me. *Michael chuckles and steps out of his chair. He walks off frame, leaving the crowd in suspense as to who is going to join Michael*.