Planet Earth, its current inhabitants number 6.94 billion people and a multitude more in animal and plant life, also home to 112 elements and a number more alloys, and it is one of these alloys that holds our interest right now.  That alloy, a useful mix of iron and a number of other elements, is also applicable as a name for a rather lacklustre superhero movie, but also now, is the translation of a name, a name which now means a hell of a lot to a man, currently sat on a building site, girders all around.

“By surrounding myself in steel, I might hope to glean some insight into the man I face this week, gain some information onto the man who I will clash heads with, but I found nothing.  But then again, I truly expected to gain nothing, I just wanted to find a nice little referential place to sit and have a chat with Mr Stalin, but then again, you must know that Erik, you seem to be an interesting sort of bloke.”

Sat on the floor, his back against a leaning steel beam, Nathan Cole cuts a mean looking figure.  His 300lb frame is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and we can see, for once, that this is a large man.  His head and face, freshly shaved, reflect the light from the sun, and his eyes are staring directly at us, through the camera.

“You see, Erik, if I can call you that, you seem to be operating under the illusion that ne facing you is going to be some sort of ordeal, a punishment for my showing which did not impress you.  Well, that may be half true, in that I’m being put in your path as an intention to punish me, have the big bad Stalin run over the stalled Nathan Cole and put him away, but, that is not the case, and as for you thinking that not being able to choose your opponent being a punishment, that is only half true as well, because it would be true if I were some random jobber for you to waste your efforts on, but I’m not, I’m all ready for you, and any victory you manage to get over me will be as a result fo you having to fight your monstrous ass off to get it.”

His gaze never shifts, staring at the camera relentlessly.

“So you see Erik, this match isn’t going to be as bad as you imagine, you get to face a decent opponent and you get to see just how tough you are, that has got to be a good thing.  But, I do have a question for you though, if I may.  You see, you have stated … and stated, so many times, that you want to bring the wrestling back into the WWA, that you want to destroy the ridiculous, the comedy, so I ask, does that include destroying a modern day Templar with a longsword?  I only ask because, if it does, please get it over quickly, because now all I want to do is shove that whole gimmick up the backside of creative and have it done with, but, now that I come to think of it, do I give you that honour?  I mean, if you really want to fight, I should be done with it before I face you so you are just going man on man with a warrior, not some medieval knockoff.  So what do you say to that?”

His eyes open wider, his expression asking the question more than his voice.

“Well, I know what I say, I say that I ditch the tunic, the sword and the shield, and I walk out to that ring and show you the real me.  I show you, and I show the WWA brass just what I can do, when I ditch the crap, and I show you just what I can do when I get into a real fight.  So how’s about it?  How about I leave all the theatrics, the costume and the rubbish at home, and I stand up to you man to man, warrior to warrior, and fight you till I don’t have an ounce of strength left in my body.  That will be a strange experience for you, won’t it?  Fighting someone who is actually prepared to fight back?  I mean, Everett and Maxwell, hardly battle ready and fighting fit, were they.  But me, I’m all raring to go, I’m more fighting fit than I have been in ages, and right now, I’m standing in your way.  What do you think?  I mean, I’m the good guy in all this, are you ready to fight the good fight?  I only ask because, well, you call yourself a good guy, but your actions, your modus operendi, that just screams evil to me.  Was your personality given to you on a piece of paper like all your other instructions were?  I know how much you love paper and envelopes.”

All that suggestion needed was a sly wink and a sex joke and it would have looked great somewhere else.

“Actually, now that I mentioned that, can I ask a serious question?  How does a man who wants to bring the seriousness of the world back to wrestling operate under such a farce?  I mean, a good guy who uses all the moves of a bad guy, has the look of a bad guy and talks like one, isn’t that as farcical and as ludicrous as it can get, thus making his original goal the goal of destroying himself?  Or am I just getting into the realm of philosophy there?  Anyway, I digress … so are you all ready for the show?  All your arrangements set, all your details worked out?  We wouldn’t want you to miss a show and then be put out to pasture, like happens to some people.”

A smile crosses his face, as if he doesn’t care what he is saying.

“Stalin, come Underground, I intend to give you a proper welcome to the World Wrestling Alliance, a true and honest welcome, and no matter what you do, no matter who talk to you or who prepares you, you are in for a fight you never expected.

Finally, he looks away, smiling, wondering just what to expect when Underground hits.