Shaman is seen pacing back and forth in a room with his hands clasped together. He seems to be in deep thought as he stops and looks around. Reaching over to a desk in the corner he grabs a folder off the desk.

"So RJ Stone we will be facing off again. Not the first time is it? Could be a simple trash talk day, but no i don't think i will let that happen. In fact i want to lay something out on the line so people will have it to understand. You and i have a bit of a history. It isn't like we actually care about who wins or loses. You can be at the top, but i don't think you realize how it can be a dangerous place." Shaman grins as he pulls a chair out and sits down in it as he opens the folder.

"let me see here, Kidnapping, beaten bloody, cheating, cheap shots, and above all else extreme dislike." Shaman rubs his chin as he ponders. "Simply put this was easy for both of us wasn't it. Everyone of those things fit us to a tee."

Leaning back in the chair he tosses his foot up on the corner of the desk and follows with the other one. He begins reading through the files as he observes everything in it. He looks up observing certain thigns and raises two pictures. One of Chris Bagwell and another of James Varga. "I see you two have popped in here as well as our other little home away from home. Sometimes just wondering why you two want to try and be the best everywhere." Shaman flips the pictures to the side and leans back casually as he reaches for a bottle of tequila.

"Varga you still got away lucky our last time and just so you know there won't be any place to run in the WWA. You hide i know where you are. This won't be your little joke fest with midgets and ye old jack ass remarks and comments. Simply put get in my way and i am going to knock your damn teeth out. Just a fair warning." Shaman stares obviously annoyed. He flips the folder to the side.

"Truth is i have business with RJ Stone tonight. We need to deal with each other in the ring. I like the way you have been handling your business lately. It has been impressive and truth to be told interesting to watch. So lets just do what we do best shall we." Shaman stands up and moves around observing the room. Shaking his head and opens the door and steps onto a balcony. He looks out over a beach in Florida as he smiles checking out all the action below. He turns and looks around the balcony.

"Small little specks of ants in the place i own. You know some could say the WWA was the House that Shaman built. Truth be told i could careless about that title and care even less about those i work with. You jack asses have been overlooking me for years. Now i am in your face and will be much much longer." Shaman looks down at his hands as he begins making fists.

"You know what screw it i don't care if i win or lose as long as i can hurt my opponent. You people are about to learn a simple lesson. No more trying to be something i am not. I am a machine and this machine kicks ass." Shaman looks down at the people below.

"Used to be all the damn time i get taunted and dragged into a useless debate and stupid remarks. My responses will be simple from now on, Run your mouth i punch you in the teeth and laugh as you suffer at the dentists office. I don't really give a flying f&%$ what you idiots think." Shaman waves a hand out over the ocean. "You idiots only look out from your fishbowl while the rest of the world lives in the ocean."

Shaman pulls a piece of paper out of his back pocket and holds it up. "I found this little poem and i want you to listen to it carefully. It is done by a man named Darren M Grime. The poem is called Tradition of Survival." Shaman grins and cracks his neck as he takes a deep breath and begins to read.

" Life of harmony, has soon gone past ,Visitors from the east, arrived all to fast." Closing his eyes as he listens to the waves.

"Time of transition, was this going to last, Concerns of the Sioux, we have to surpass." Shaman opens his eyes once again as the breeze gently blows across his face. " The land that was once, theirs, is no more, Freedom once had, is gone and nevermore, Buffalo once hunted to sustain, is now a core."

Looking out at the ocean once again as the sun sets behind him shadowing his massive form. " Their spirit, they could not take, is forevermore overcoming obstacles, it was all about strive ,Storms and battles, they would always survive." Shaman smiles as the golden orange hues of the setting sun shine revealing a face of pride more than anger and rage which had always fueled him.

"Mother Earth bequeathed, allowing them to thrive, Taking only what was needed, surely glad to be alive, The Great Spirit allows all to believe, Recognizing all living things, this has to be every man and woman of the Sioux, has to agree the pride of the Native People, is there to conceive." Shaman looks to the sky as he stares at the moon lone in the slowly darkening sky.

"The people of the Sioux will always be strong, Giving thanks to Grandfather with dance and song , A past is kept in order teach the young so that they belong, Tradition of survival shall be taught, so that there will be no more wrong." Shaman folds the paper and puts it back in his pocket.

"The underlying story is what i want you to understand. You have tried to push me out. You have tried to make me quit the WWA. I walked away once because of a contract dispute. This time i don't walk away i will fight on whether i win or lose. I will beat you in ways that you never expected me too. There will be no quit in me any longer. The path has come full circle soon you will understand." Shaman turns and enters the building slamming the door shut. Leaving nothing, but the setting sun for you to see.