The crowd in Fargo continued to cheer as EBWF was just moments from going off the air. Edge was backing up the ramp, still surveying his handiwork in the ring as the referee counted the pin fall. As Christian’s music began to play, and the referee looked around confused at what had just taken place, Edge turned and went back through the curtain. He wiped his sweaty palms on his black hoodie as he stepped into gorilla. Renee Young was waiting for him.

Renee Young: Edge! Edge! Welcome back. Can I have a word with you?

Edge: Not now, Renee.

Renee Young: But Edge, the EBWF fans have a right to know why you just…

Edge: A right to…

It was clear the happy go lucky Edge of the past wasn’t making an appearance tonight. He ran a hand through his closely cropped hair.

Edge: They want to know why I just went out there and interfered in a match no one gave a shit about, is that it?

Renee flinched at Edge’s language, but he shrugged, figuring they’d cut it out in post.

Edge: Christian Cage was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And he won simply because he was the guy in the ring that was not Bray Wyatt. Bray Wyatt took months off of my career, Renee, and I don’t know if you noticed but I got a lot more years of wrestling behind me than I do in front of me. I’ll be damned if Bray tries to end my career.

Renee nodded in sympathy.

Edge: I have every intention of winning the King of the Ring tournament and part of doing that is making sure Bray Wyatt stays the hell out of my way.

Renee Young: Even in the short time since you jumped the barricade, Paul Heyman has said that you will live to regret this decision.

Edge: I’ve done spears off of 10 foot laters and set myself on fire for this business and Paul Heyman thinks I’ll regret beating up Psycho Mr. Rogers?

Edge squeezed his eyes shut.

Edge: Either I’ve just lost all sense of survival of Paul Heyman has lost his touch. I’m not sure. Whatever I’ll come to regret, it won’t be doing what I had to do to win the King of the Ring tournament.

Renee Young: You have declared for this tournament, and in fact, your first round match is against Stone Cold Steve Austin.

Edge: Jesus Christ, was I gone for 7 months or 25 years? I have a feeling I’ve said this same exact thing a million times before, but if EBWF could stop jumping into its Time Machine and basing its entire existence on nostalgia that would be great. I don’t normally do “Old” jokes, because I’m typically the butt of them, but damn.

Renee hid a smirk, and Edge became more animated.

Edge: So let me tell you what’s going to happen here, Steve. It’s a three day weekend in the US next week, so I imagine you’re going to spend all weekend in Seattle getting drunk as a lord. You’ll wake up Monday morning at think, sum’bitch I’ve got myself a match tonight.

Edge affected a redneck accent before sighing, already tired of the game.

Edge: You’ll ring yourself out. Drag your potbellied, bald, alcoholic self down to the ring on two obliterated knees and you’ll stand there like a dope while my music hits. I’ll come out, and make no mistake, Steve. I am angry. And while I’m not angry at you, you are the guy in my way. And just like last year, I’m going to eliminate you from this tournament leaving everyone in the arena and everyone watching at home wondering why you still drag yourself out here night after night, ruining a legacy that defined an entire industry for so long.

Edge chuckled.

Edge: No one understands foolish pride better than me, Steve. But after what Bray Wyatt did to me? I think I still have something to prove. And you’re the first in a long line of matches I have to win to prove it. So here’s the real bottom line, Renee. For you, and for everyone watching at home. What Stone Cold says? It doesn’t mean shit anymore.

Edge walked away, leaving Renee looking after him as the scene faded to black.