"What about Trendkiller?"

The words echo in Jaymz's brain the moment they are spoken, and they immediately lose all meaning. What about the Killer of Trends? What about the big badass Texan? What about the shiny-headed douchebag?

Trendkiller was a monster of a competitor, but a man without any worth.

And yet, why did he avoid mentioning him? Why did the mention of his avoidance stun him so?

Was it fear?

No. Jaymz Watkins does not fear.

But, what about the blood that Trendkiller had spilled until this point? What about his own blood Trendkiller had freed from Jaymz's arteries? What about the careers broken, and the monstrous form of the man.

Surely it was perfectly logical, as well as acceptable, for one to fear a man such as that.

Jaymz opens his mouth to speak, but he hesitates.

I can't fear him. He mustn't frighten me. Otherwise, I become nothing.

But I fear him. I have felt the blows, and have seen his burning eyes.

There must be an out, something to be done to avoid the question entirely... What did I say about enchiladas?

"I don't know if he likes enchiladas. You'd have to ask him." The crowd laughs again.

Oh, thank God. My mind sighs at that.

"I'm afraid I don't have time for more questions, but I love all of you and look forward to seeing many of you in the crowd, cheering the WWA on!" He poses, basking in the flashing of lights, before moving over to his rep and wife.

Oh, God. I sweated.

I've tipped my hand...

I may not want to face you, Trendkiller, but I will if I must. And I will beat you, somehow.