(Once again, I find myself forced to shake my head in disbelief at the idiocy that surrounds me in this federation. People like Craig Robinson, Chris Cane, Thurston Edward Marshall III, Tempest...they and their ilk make it exceedingly difficult for narrators like me to avoid falling out of my chair from laughter. Let's take a look at the latest comments from Tempest, first mispronouncing The Icon's name as "Dahl" instead of "Daher," then going on to say that The Icon's appraisal of Tempest's worth was accurate only in the respect that he is instead worthy of the Falconer Championship rather than being worth the sweat off The Icon's posterior; but even before he went on the air, we were treated to a brief little episode featuring Thurston Edward Marshall III, who actually had the grapefruits to deny whining about his loss in the big Falconer Title match at Avalanche. Whining is bad enough, but denying it is even worse. And what of Chris Cane? He still has yet to appear on camera and defend his unresearched and unintelligent decision to book himself against The Icon in The Icon's specialty match with The Icon's title on the line. Cold feet, perhaps? Or just the cold realization of how royally screwed he really is? Then, last and certainly least, we come to Craig Robinson, the rather unstable addition to The Erinyes and the man who has set himself to the impossible mission of thrashing the man called Drakestone. Obviously, he doesn't have any idea what sort of man he's getting into it with. Trust me: Come Wednesday, he and the entire world will know exactly what Drakestone is all about. Consider that a guarantee. But what, pray tell, do the two BoV members themselves have to say about this? Watch...and learn.)

(The scene opens up at Lambert-St. Louis International Airport. The place is rather crowded, with most of the arriving passengers here to see the upcoming GWA event, Insurrection, set to take place at the Savvis Center this Wednesday night. Among the streaming line of passengers, two arrivals stick out from the rest, one because of his massive size and the other because of a gold championship title belt clutched in his hand. Yes, I'm talking about Drakestone and Jim "The Icon" Daher. The luggage for both men is limited to a simple black duffel bag slung over each man's shoulder. Drakestone's attired in his usual all-black, while The Icon has an "ICON=GOD" t-shirt underneath an open red St. Louis Cardinals Mark McGwire jersey, a St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap worn backwards on his head. They both look around, then notice someone holding a sign with the letters "BoV" on it. The two men shrug to each other, then head over to the man.)

Drakestone: You lookin' for The Brotherhood of Vengeance?

(He looks up at the big man.)

Man: Indeed I am. You two are them? From the GWA?

The Icon: Yeah, that's us. Whassup?

(The man smiles.)

Man: Your parter's manager, Sarah, arranged to have me take you to your hotel. If you'll follow me...

(The man then turns and heads to the exit. Drakestone and The Icon look at each other, then follow him out of the airport. The scene fades out...)

(The scene fades back in outside a rather grand hotel. A black limo pulls up in front of the hotel and parks, allowing us to view the GWA logo on the front license plate. The driver - the man we saw earlier at the airport - gets out and moves to the back door, then opens it. Drakestone and The Icon step out of the limo, looking up at the massive building. The driver steps to the trunk and removes their bags, along with the Falconer Title belt.)

Driver: I'll carry your bags. Here's your belt, Mr. Daher.

(The man hands the title belt to The Icon, then heads up the red carpet - "Nice touch, fellas." - to the hotel, stopping at the front door. Drakestone and The Icon follow. They take their bags from the chauffeur, then enter the building, finding themselves in a rather immense lobby. They walk up to the front desk, where Drakestone rings the little bell. Almost instantly, a uniformed clerk is there to greet them, flashing a toothy smile at the two GWA superstars.)

Smiling Man: Hello! Welcome to the {**********} Hotel! How can I help you today?

Drakestone: We're here for a room.

Smiling Man: Splendid! Do you have a reservation?

Drakestone: Well, it was all arranged by someone else, so I'm not real sure, but if we do, it should be under Drakestone and Daher.

(The smiling man whips out a massive book and places it on the desk, then quickly scans through it.)

Smiling Man: Ah, here it is! Drakestone and Daher. My, my, it seems your friend has quite a loose wallet. Your friend has reserved our Presidential Suite for you. I'll fetch the bellhop. He'll take your bags and lead you to your room.

(The smiling man rings the bell, and (again) almost instantly, a uniformed bellhop appears at the counter.)

Bellhop: Yes, sir!

Smiling Man: Would you please escort these two gentlemen to our Presidential Suite?

Bellhop: Yes, sir! Right away, sir!

(The bellhop takes their bags - "No, I'll carry my belt, thank you very much." - and leads them to the elevator. The scene fades out...)

(The scene fades back in inside the lavishly appointed Presidential Suite of the hotel. Drakestone and The Icon are in the process of getting situated, and the bellhop just departed with a generous tip in his hand. The Icon heads straight for the bed and flops down on it, getting mildly surprised as he bounces up in the air about a foot before settling back onto the bed. After a few minutes, a knock sounds at the door, drawing Drakestone's attention.)

Drakestone: That'll be Ross Bobby.

(A puzzled look comes to The Icon's face.)

The Icon: He found us that quick?

(Drakestone chuckles, then removes his cell phone from his belt clip and shows it to The Icon.)

Drakestone: He had a little bit of help.

(They share a chuckle, then Drakestone puts his phone back on his belt clip and answers the door, revealing Ross Bobby and a GWA camera man. Drakestone steps aside to let them in, and the interview crew swiftly sets up in the hotel room, moving with dizzying speed. In practically no time, the camera is set up, a microphone thrust into Ross Bobby's hand. Drakestone and The Icon take their seats nearby, and the interview begins.)

Ross Bobby: Hello, GWA fans! I'm here with Drakestone and the GWA Falconer Champion, Jim "The Icon" Daher, and I'm here to get their thoughts on this coming edition of Wednesday Insurrection. First, Drakestone. Your match against Craig Robinson. What do you think about what he's said so far?

(Drakestone chuckles.)

Drakestone: Ross, frankly, I think about what he's said only if I'm having trouble falling asleep. This Craig Robinson character has shown me only that he's an absolute buffoon, incapable of devoting even the smallest bit of thought to the one idea he should be thinking most about: self-preservation. Day in and day out, he continues to spout his nonsense, still clinging to the fruitless hope that he might actually win. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, he still refuses to accept the fact of his inevitable failure. If that's the way he wants it, then so be it. His loss will be that much more painful in the end. And if any of his Erinyes partners get the bright idea of trying to save their friend Mr. Robinson...then I'll be more than happy to welcome them to Mr. Drakestone's Neighborhood. The fact of the matter is, I really don't need to waste my time with this Craig Robinson character. He's disrespectful to the extreme, insane to the extreme...and winless to the extreme. It's like I've been sayin' all this time: Craig Robinson will serve as the first stepping stone on my path to the Gladiator Championship, and no one - not even Ashram Kenjin himself - can keep me from attaining my goal. If Craig Robinson wants to stand in my way, then he can't say he wasn't warned. Craig, you're standing between me and the Gladiator Title, and you're gonna learn that that's the most dangerous place there is. Oh, and one more time, just for you: Your Final Judgement has been passed. Give your soul to the Lord...'cause your ass belongs to me.

Ross: And that brings me to you, Icon. A whole lot of people have had something of some sort to say about you, so...your response?

Jim "The Icon" Daher: My response? Laughing my ass off, that's my response! Chris Cane's my opponent this Wednesday, right? So why is it he's the only one who hasn't had somethin' to say about me on camera? But wait, hold on one second here. I hear from a fairly reliable source that he might not have meant Hell in a Cell when he signed "Cell" on that contract. Well, Christopher, allow me to enlighten you on a little something. You failed to elaborate on what specific Cell you meant, so therefore, the automatic assumption is that you meant Hell in a Cell. You still have not elaborated more on this, so therefore, our match will be a Hell in a Cell, and it will remain so until I hear otherwise from someone with some stroke. Period. If you have a problem with that, tough sh*t. I'll beat your ass whether it's a Hell in a Cell, a Prison Cell, a "Cell" Phone, or even a One-"Cell"ed Organism. 'Nuff said. Now, what about ol' Thursty 3 and our old friend Tempest? Well, I'll sum up what I think about you two goofs in one small, simple sentence, just so your small minds can understand me clearly. Kiss...my rosy...red...ass. You've all done nothin' but be a nuisance to me, but it's okay. In due time, I'll show you all why I'm the Falconer Champion...and you're not. I'll see your asses later, so thank you, and have a nice FRICKIN' day.

(With that, the scene slowly fades to black.)

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