**The scene opened with the camera zoomed in on Syxx's face. He was wearing his wrestling singlet in the traditional black and neon green adorn with gold also supporting a royal looking cloak draped over his shoulders and down his back. His eyes looked clear, his face looked determined, and his voice was solemn as he spoke.**

Syxx: Honestly, I didn't know if I would ever be here again. You know why, I don't feel the need to elaborate. However, in a world where kayfabe is for a lack of a better term "broken", I can't sit idle and let others make money on my artistic licence. Let there be no mistake about it, there is only one Lord Syxx! Often imitated, never duplicated. This brings me to Sir Jericho. You may ask, why me? You were a good lord in your own right for quite awhile...until you weren't. You reigned over the realm with a sense of dignity, you were even instrumental in my resurgence years ago so you may ask, "Why you?" It is simple Sir Jericho, you claim to be the best in the world at what you do and I find that claim to be largely unsubstantiated. You have won many battles and carved quite the legacy for yourself, but there is only one supreme lord of all the seven continents and his name is Lord Syxx. You may find this slightly disagreeable, but come Christmas Eve of Destruction your ass will become grass upon which I will smoke! You and I are similar in a lot of ways. Similar in age, similar in tenure. That is all these simpletons want to talk about is how many name days we have seen. We've both been here for more than just several fortnights yet I have witnessed you accrue accolade after accolade whilst my cupboards remain so noticeably bare. Don't take it personally, you are just a pawn in my ascension. Disagree and I will cordially invite thee to suck it.

**The scene faded.**