That's more like it, you mother-*beep*er.

That's more like the Shaman we all know and *beep*ing love.

What?

What am I saying?

Why am I saying this?

Shoulda thought it was *beep*ing obvious.

Jackson Kraven sits on a huge black leather couch, a big grin on his face and (for some unknown reason) a black cowby hat perched on his head.

Let's see, shall we?

I'm in a singles match with a genuine, bona-fide legend, live in front of thousands of people, going out on television to millions of people.
I'm not fighting two low-lifes that mean jack-*beep* to anyone with half a brain cell.
I'm not fighting a midget with a deathwish, or some pop-culture-obsessed *beep* tied to his wifey's apron srings.
I'm fighting one-on-one with Shaman, the walking miracle.
A man who "fell" to his "certain doom" but days ago.
A man who "by all rights" ought "never to walk again, never mind wrestle".

Kraven cackles nastily.

I'm fighting a big dumb *beep* who believes that all he needs to do is swing a few hammers and "do his best" and he'll beat me.
I'm fighting a useless, three-move schmuck who really, truly believes his own publicity, a man so desperate to be liked that he throws himself in with every flash in the pan that comes along, just so he can whine and cry when it burns him...
just like it always *beep*ing does.
I'm fighting a man who really, truly believes himself to be able to defeat me. A man who really, truly, down in his heart of hearts, is stupid enough to believe that he and his "honour" and "skill" are enough to bring me down.

The Tomorrow Man shrugs. It's like watching continental drift, as huge muscles flex and warp under the material of his "NO MORE TOMORROWS" t-shirt.

Try me, Shaman.

Just *beep*ing try me.

Bring the biggest guns in your *beep*ing arsenal, and unload them one-by-one.

Try and stop me, just like last time.

Here's a question for you- how was I able to exit your *beep*ing pit in the first place, even if I "had help"?
How come I wasn't lying there "in a world of hurt", a "broken man"?
How come I wasn't "staring up at the lights" wondering how I'd "been so badly beaten"?

I'll answer my own *beep*ing question, seeing as how you're probably still trying to figure out what "able" means.

I was able to do it because you weren't, you sorry sack of *beep*.

I was able to do it because I'm not a useless, deluded never-was halfwit.

I was able to do it because I'm the Tomorrow Man, and...

Kraven takes off his sunglasses and winks conspiratorially at us.

...to run the risk of "sounding like a stuck record"...

The sunglasses go back on, and the Tomorrow Man smiles again.

...I do whatever the *beep* I want.

Run to "your" boss and cry about it, Shaman.

Tell everyone who'll listen that you beat Jackson Kraven and Craven Moore for the US title.

Tell everyone again and again and again how you're so *beep*ing "extreme".

You know what I'll do?

Just what I did last time, you glorified *beep*ing stuntman- beat you.

Here's an idea, Shaman- you might want to take notes.

After you and me get done on Meltdown, how about we take it a step further.
How about we take it to the next level, you and me?

How about we go out into the parking lot, and we drink us up some tequila, and we bust each other up real good, huh?

That's what "you people" are good at, right?

Brawling drunk in parking lots?

Kraven tosses his head back and roars with laughter. It's scary- almost a man laughing as he signs his own death-warrant.

Then suddenly, the mirth is gone, and he's looking straight at us again, the Tomorrow Man again.

Or how about you and I get it on at Rage In The Cage, Shaman?
I have a little idea germinating here in my brain, a match that will make your Himalayan Pit Match look like a walk in the park with one with your favourite dog.

A match that will make King Of The Hill look like a stroll in the rain with the one you love.

A match that will make Hell In The Frozen Cell look...

Well, we'll find out when you say yes or no, Shaman.

If you remember what "no" means.

Here's a hint- it's the opposite of what you say when someone asks you if you're a big, dumb jackass who should have done the world a favour and died at birth.

Kraven jerks his head savagely at us, and the camera dies to black...