[[Slowly the smoke from a cigar rises and fades in the air. The large frame of Kevin Nash sat frozen in place, only his eyes made movement as they followed the trail lead up and then scatter. Like an idea, it starts out so strong. So solid. But then, as time passes and the idea begins to spread, the purity of it dissipates. It stretches itself so thin that ultimately it simply fades to nothing with even a slight breeze.

Kevin reaches with his massive hand to roll down the window. He is seating at the rear of a stretch limo. The vehicle barrels towards the Bridgestone Arena, with the massive former World Champion in it. With the window open, the smoke quickly dashes from the cigar right out the window, creating a visual jet stream image. Nash raises the fat stogie to his mouth as he takes a deep drag, throating it, and exhaling out the window. Ordinarily the man known as Big Sexy isn’t one to smoke, but as he’s grown older he’s grown to appreciate a fine Cuban every now and again. Especially when he was stressed out – and the last week had been more stressful for him than he had anticipated.

It had been years since Nash made wrestling appearances consecutively. His body wasn’t use to it, nor was his mind. Even if EBWF had gone out of their way to accommodate his every want and request, it was still taxing. He left the Saturday before the PPV, and returned the following Monday, only to get a few days rest and be back at it for this weeks Warfare. Something he has done countless times before, in fact he use to do house show between them, but as time had marched on, so too had his ability to recuperate after an event. The idea that he was still young and able bodied enough to do this long term started out strong, he could visualize it easily – but now that idea was being tested and he feared what would happen when the idea faded in the wind.

Nash took another drag of his Cuban, blew it out and looked down at himself. He was dressed in an Armani suit, his favorite pair of Johnson & Murphy shoes, his Presidential Rolex watch. He looked the epitome of success. And perhaps he was, but success had made him complacent. He knew this. No matter how much he may think he wanted another shot up at the top, a part of him knew, the body would give out long before the spirit. But that didn’t matter – not now – not tonight.

Tonight he was going to face about 18,000 fans. And Nashville had a history of not being big Kevin Nash marks to begin with. He knew they would all be looking at him, waiting for him to screw up – dying to pounce at the slightest misstep. He had taunted, he had threatened, he had taken the poster boy of EBWF through the mud and now his character was responsible for taking away the heavyweight title.

The crowd would be thirsty for blood, they would be hungry for answers about Ted DiBiase, about Cody Rhodes, about AJ Styles, and they would be relentless if Nash didn’t deliver it all. Not only give them what they wanted, but be flawless and entertaining while doing it. Kevin Nash had cut thousands of promos in his career, but in this moment, in this limo, heading to that arena in Nashville Tennessee, he couldn’t think of a single one that carried the weight that this one would. Not that it would even matter if he could...]]

-=-=-=-=-=-

During Monday Warfare; moments before Kevin Nash addresses the crowd. Backstage.

[[Nash threw an easy smile to the director seated at the Gorilla section. A pair of metal mobile folding steps were set up a few feet from the table which lead up to the entrance curtain. Kevin glanced around suddenly aware of an unmistakable fact; he was alone. He looked back behind him, the hallway that lead to the locker rooms. His private changing room was closest to the Gorilla position – a rather superfluous honor he insured was in his contract. Now he saw it as less an honor, and perhaps more a prison. He kept him isolated. It kept him separate.

Historically, he had wanted to be separate – with his friends. But now Triple H was gone, HBK was gone, Hall was gone, Hogan was gone, all his friends, pushed away one by one. He looked the other direction down the hall – the offices. The days of sharing a few drinks with Bischoff during Nitro were over, the nights he and McMahon had joked around while huddled by a monitor were distant memories, now there was only Wes and his crew – a crew that started out distrustful of him and only had their opinions plunge further over the years.

His allies and friends within the board of directors kept him as a safe man. But they weren’t here at the shows. The bottom line was, Kevin Nash was more hated than accepted by his peers. And in truth, more feared than respected. The years he had spent poisoning other people around him, while shielded by his connections had left him unprepared him for this. Now in the twilight of his career, he genuinely was trying to help. He wanted to see his legacy end wrapped in something more than just himself or the now bastardized legacy of the nWo. He wanted something that he could live on through...

But a man alone must live only through himself.

The director gave Nash a quick nod indicating the time was approaching and he should get ready. He did a couple of quick hops up and down to get some blood flowing. He raised his shoulders up and down and shook out his neck. A big inhale in before a giant exhale. And after it all, he still didn’t feel any more relaxed. He put his hands together to crack his knuckles when he made a startling realization; his palms were clammy. He was nervous. He was scared.

“S.C.O.M.” by Fort Minor began to blare on the PA system in the arena. The old familiar sounds of his entrance song caused the crowd to erupt. He could hear the sea of people burst with emotion. Hope, anger, confusion, they all flooded the Nashville arena with a tense atmosphere. Kevin Nash slowly raised his eyes upwards looking to a figure he rarely connected with...

Well God, this is it. Either it’s here, in me, in this moment – or this has all been for nothing...

Nash began to step forward. The crew at Gorilla looked nervous, he should have gone through the curtains as soon as the music started. They’ve been working with a static shot of no one coming through the curtains for a few seconds now...But Nash continued to move at this pace. The crowd would build, and sure enough, they did.]]

Jim Ross: Oh my! Would you listen to that audience reaction King!?

Jerry Lawler: He’s not even here yet, and these people are already going crazy.

Jim Ross: You can love him or hate him, and frankly there’s a lot of people in both those camps, but however you feel about him, it’s irrelevant! There are only a very few number of people who can bring out this kind of reaction from the crowd, and Kevin Nash is one of em-

[[No sooner had JR finished his thought than the curtains parted. In one swift movement Kevin Nash emerged from the back. Kevin Nash’s face was fixed. His lips pursed together to not reveal any emotion. His eyes narrowed as he looks around at the thousands and thousands of rabid fans. Posters, smartphones and cameras all held up. Hand gestures both flattering and insulting were raised. But Kevin Nash just stood there, stood there and silently dared them to throw every ounce of emotion at him.

The big man was no longer dressed in his Armani suit. He had dressed down to a pair of nice jeans, some black casual shoes a shirt from Express. He had made the choice about an hour earlier that the suit look might get too much heat, he wasn’t about to let the wardrobe steal his moment. This right here was what he had waited for. This was the raw, primal, pure emotional outpour he knew he needed. Love or hate, it didn’t matter to him – he was going to use this.]]

Jerry Lawler: Nash looks like a statue, he’s not moving JR.

Jim Ross: I don’t know how to explain it King, but Kevin Nash does not look to be in any kind of hurry to get in the ring.

[[Without warning a giant cup of soda flew through the air and just barely missed Kevin Nash’s head. Big Sexy’s eyes darted in the direction of who threw it. Security was already rushing towards them but before they arrived another fan sitting near by threw his popcorn at the initial offender. Nash watched as the small pocket of fans began to brawl with one another. That was his cue. This audience was white hot. He began his deliberate march to the ring/]]

Jim Ross: Well it seems we might hear from the big man after all.

[[Kevin Nash steamed right past the ring steps and marched around the ring straight to the back where the commentator booth was set up along with some other crew members.]]

Jerry Lawler: Is he coming over here?

Jim Ross: I don’t know King!

[[Nash grabbed a microphone. He immediately ripped the foam “EBWF” decoration off it. He held the mic high in the air. The audience popped. He then climbed on top of the announcer’s table and pointed the microphone towards the audience. They blew the roof off the arena. The atmosphere when from electric to frenzied as Nash lowered the mic and raised his other hand indicating they should quite down. The mob had just started, they didn’t want to quite down now. Nash spoke into the mic.]]

Kevin Nash: I’m gonna need to talk a little bit.

[[No. The arena laid into Nash with boos. With cheers. With chants. There was a lot of mixed feelings, but none of them were reserved.]]

Kevin Nash: I know you all want an explanation, and you’ll get it. Because you deserve it. Because this is a business where the audience is always right...isn’t that so?! Don’t you think you’re always right?!

[[The cheers began to die down. The roar of rage picked up.]]

Kevin Nash: You don’t even know what you want! You want an explination?! You want me to answer “Why Nash Why?” but you won’t even be quit long enough to hear it.

[[Nash was right, but the audience wasn’t going to let up. So he decided to just power through. He got down from the announce table and walked up the steel steps to the ring, but he didn’t get in. He just stood at the top of the steps, turned around and looked out into the massive swarm of increasingly hostile audience.]]

Kevin Nash: I said before the match even took place – I promised, I made a vow that I would hold up my end. I would set the stage. I would lay the foundation. I would light the torch. And that’s exactly what I did. When I made the three count on AJ Styles – I fulfilled my promise.

Jim Ross: What is he talking about?!

Jerry Lawler: I thought he was talking to Ted DiBiase in that promo!

Jim Ross: Me too!

[[Nash looked around the arena to see people begin to quite, at least to the point of being able to hear.]]

Kevin Nash: Now, I happen to be close enough to my estimeed colleague Jerry Lawler over here –

[[Nash steps down the steps, his eyes all the while locked on to King. Nash walks right up to the announce table.]]

Kevin Nash: Would you mind very much repeating your thought to the good people here in attendance this evening.

[[King looks confused, but goes along with it...]]

Jerry Lawler: I said, I thought your message before the match at Sacrifice was for DiBiase.

Kevin Nash: He thought it was for DiBiase. Did you, did you all think it was for Teddy?

[[The crowd reacts. Clearly, when Nash made a promise to do his part, they thought it was for his on air protégée of sorts.]]

Kevin Nash: And JR, you’ve got a far better memory than I...did I ever actually say I was talking to Ted DiBiase?

[[Nash shoved the mic in JR’s face - ]]

Jim Ross: Uh, no. No Mr. Nash you did not.

Kevin Nash: Interesting. So a pair of legendary commentators, and what seems like the majority of 18,000+ here tonight all seemed to think my promise, the promise I made that this would be the beginning of how things should have been all along – was directed towards Ted DiBiase Jr.

[[Kevin Nash grabs the camera out of the hands of the camera man standing closest to him. He holds it back but bores a hole right into the center of the lens.]]

Kevin Nash: You all had your own theories I’m sure. But what you all seemed to miss, and what all these people here overlooked –

[[Nash uses the camera to pan around and show the audience in fevered pitch.]]

Kevin Nash: I was very clear from before I stepped foot back into this company.

[[Nash drops the camera which momentarily shows his feet walking away and back towards the ring steps. We cut to another live feed camera that’s ringside as Nash ascends the stairs back to the ring.]]

Kevin Nash: I said it and I meant it – AJ Styles. He’s special. He’s got something that doesn’t come around all that often. But it’s not enough to have the X-Factor, you need to know how to use it. And come hell or high water, I will make him use it.

Jim Ross: I think this is raising more questions than it’s answering King.

Jerry Lawler: I just want a straight answer out of him!

Kevin Nash: Ted DiBiase, he’s a great talent. No doubt in my mind, the kid has all the tools right now to be a World Champion. Cody Rhodes, won that match fair and square. The Miz, top athlete in the world, would be in any promotion. All three of the other men in that match deserved to be there – and deserve to be contenders for that World Title.

[[The crowd pops for this. Even if they don’t mark for them, there is no denying their talents.]]

Kevin Nash: But AJ Styles?! AJ has been World Champion in two promotions now. He’s been a main event player for a decade. He’s done it all, and earned his stripes – he’s a bona fide marquee name. So, the question is; is that all that he is? You want him to hold that belt, put his name as top billed, continue on the path he’s on...wins some title matches, lose others, bounce back and forth between a couple of main event fueds…OR…do you want to see him become who he should have been the entire time. The man who holds the World Title is a symbol! He’s a symbol of the top that you can reach. Why, tell me why AJ’s eye’s should be set so low?

[[The audience is baffled. Nearly dumbstruck. All the brewing emotion, has been replaced by stunned silence.]]

Kevin Nash: Hulk Hogan never stopped at the World Title. Shawn Michaels never stopped at the World Belt. Andre didn’t even need the strap. Steve Austin was the hottest worker in the world at a time when he was on the rise. That belt, that spot, that safety net...it’s the ultimate prize for most everyone. But sooner or later, you either grow beyond it, or you are swallowed whole by it. AJ Styles, you’ve got a long ways to go, and if you thought becoming a World Champion was hard, you might not have what it takes to ever move beyond that – but I see in you, what I saw in few others. You should be thanking me – I promised I would set this company right. I promised I would do my part to mold this into what it should have been all along. Your stage is set, are you man enough to grow beyond a great wrestler – are you ready to become a legend? You might hate me for it, and these people might not “get what they want” – but if you ever dared to dream bigger, this is your moment. Seize it!

[[Kevin Nash drops the microphone. He stares intently into the closest camera. And very methodically raises his eyebrows, as if to taunt, “it’s your move.” The audience lets out the last of their feverish emotion. Still angry, some seem to understand the method to the madness and cheer Nash, other pop for the Big Man simply because he still has that intangible connection with them.]]

Jim Ross: Well I didn’t see that coming.

Jerry Lawler: I don’t think anyone did.

Jim Ross: I don’t – King I just don’t know what to make of any of this.

[[The camera cuts as Warfare goes to commercial. The last image is of Nash leaning against the turnbuckle, casually, yet calculatedly. His demeanor not relaxed, but of an alpha male lion – settled but ready to strike...ready...for...anything...]]