In an empty wrestling arena a wrestler's theme plays to crickets. A shadowy figure appears in the entrance way for dramatic effect before emerging into sight revealing himself as former professional wrestler TREVOR. TREVOR's face goes from eager to disappointed in no time flat as he realizes the arena is empty. His disappointment then turns to laughter as TREVOR looks down at the ground, shaking his head. I should have known. There's only so many times you can make a grand return and expect people to care. People forget. They move on. But not me. I'm not a legend around here, I'm quite the opposite. Nobody ever wanted to give me the time of day in this place no matter how far I was willing to go to prove myself. So I've come back to IWT for redemption. I'm just as good as anyone in IWT has been or ever will be and I wish I could sit at home and take satisfaction in knowing that, but I can't. I've sat home for years with a pit in my stomach knowing my name should be written in gold on the walls of this building... But the reality is that it isn't and it never will be. So all I can do is take a piece of this company and bring it back home with me as my prize. Whatever form that piece takes, I'm game. Trevor pulls out a cigarette from his pocket and sparks it, then chucks his microphone into the empty crowd. He walks down the ramp into the ring puffing his cigarette. He removes his shirt and sits down in the middle of the ring to wait for something, anything.