((The world looks a lot different from the back of a car.))

((They'd taken off later then they'd wanted to today...a late night of drinking had seen to that. Though it did give Kyle time to watch LWF television, and stub his toe in a fit of rage as he had kicked a bare foot at his coffee table. Which in turn had roused Bryce from his alcohol induced slumber to shout obscenities at Kyle.))

((But now they were on the road, (after a brief stop off at 7-11 to pick up some provisions) with a cameraman in the back seat, November riding shot gun with a foot hanging out the opened window, and Nightstryker in the drivers seat of Kyle's SUV. Currently they were doing a cool 45-miles through rush hour traffic as they headed north...))

NIGHTSTRYKER: Doesn't anyone in California know how to drive!?! For the love of...

((He leans heavily on the horn (that's car lingo for "Fuck you asshole!") as he throws a hand out the window and a finger up in the air. Kyle, doesn't look overly bothered by the traffic...))

November: Sure, it's just the rest of the world that doesn't get it yet.

((Bryce snaps his head in Kyle's direction and glares.))

NIGHTSTRYKER: Do you want to drive then?

((November holds up a hand as he pops a Cheeto in his mouth.))

November: No way...these guys are crazy. Besides, I should say something about Marcus.

NIGHTSTRYKER: Well say it then.

((Slowly Kyle turns his head to look back at the camera. His face taking on a very serious expression.))

November: Hi Mark. I'm sober now. 

((He looks back over to Stryker and shrugs. Bryce, shrugs back. Which in turn causes Kyle to shrug.))

NIGHTSTRYKER: Ok...I'm not playing that game again. You should maybe say a bit more though. Huh?

November: I don't know...atmosphere isn't quite right. I mean the front of a car... Mark had that whole white room and white suit thing going on. I think it was symbolic or something.

NIGHTSTRYKER: FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!!

((Comes the sudden outburst from Stryker as he slams on the breaks...tossing Kyle forward a bit in his seat and jarring the camera  bit.))

November: Jesus Christ man...watch the road! You know what never mind. Get off right here I'll drive...

NIGHTSTRYKER: Hey I know how to fuc-

((The sound cuts and we fade out before Bryce finishes his comment.))

((When the image comes back up we're in a gas station parking lot. The focus of our attention is still on Kyle as he leans back, posing, on the side of the SUV. Much better atmosphere. As he opens his mouth to speak the sound of a horn blowing cuts him off. His mouth snaps shut, he shakes his head, flips his sunglasses down on the bridge of his nose, and begins again...))

November: So I'm sure you're wondering... "What's up with the fifteen minute intro?" Mighty Thunderwolfish of me eh? Hmm...well I guess I'm having them put it in there just to further illustrate my point of how unconcerned I am with this match. Because I still don't care. I'm not looking to make this a highlight in the story of your career. Me beating you? Doesn't prove a damn thing to me. You beating me? Only further proves that without the accomplishments the ring has to offer...there's very little to your life.

Which you've agreed with me about. Which was a brilliant move on your part because it leaves me shut off from pursuing that line of thought. Well I mean I suppose I could pursue it, but then it'd just be one big vicious circle of me saying "Hey, you have no life!" and you nodding your head as you reply, "Yes... I agree."

So you know I'll just side step that whole subject, I'll also go ahead and drop your dad out of the conversation because you tried to turn it and make it about "Ransom" and well I've already had that conversation with Faith like a month ago and I'm not about to spend the next couple of weeks debating with you what I do or don't want out of him or them. I'll just remind you that Bryan got burnt when he tried to talk to a "Charm" about being a Charm. It would have been wiser just to keep the conversation on you...because you probably could have tripped me up on something there. But now you've just the privilege to speak to me about my past associates and the subject of the Fatal Charms. Because you just don't get it...nobody does. 

So instead I'll refocus us. Because you need refocusing Marcus. Your thoughts tend to bounce every which way when your interviewing, and you really do need someone like me to walk you through this.

((He pauses and brings his hands up to his face...palms facing each other...))

So we're focusing now, and we're focusing on you and me. Me saying, "Try dispersing your attention to other things in your life", and you saying "Nope... can't do that. Must wrestle. Must wrestle good." And you still don't get it. You can't fucking understand that a happy medium can exist between the life we live, and the profession we chose. I can't speak for her Marcus...fuck I don't want to speak for her. I'm done with her. But if what you're doing in your career is what matters to her...then it should be you kicking her to the curb.

Get it yet boyscout? Are ya maybe wising up a bit to the ways of the world? Maybe if she were a groupie your shallow attitude would have her spreading her legs for you, but last time I checked a relationship has never been built on one's accomplishments. Unless you take into account Greek mythology, but then again I've never taken that subject very seriously, and I have a feeling neither do you. Hell, I use to talk through all my classes.

So ok...I stepped away from the subject a bit, but it was in the attempts to make a point. And I'm hoping you're starting to see that point... that the clouds are starting to lift and you're finally starting to see the sun shining through. 

((He shakes his head and scoffs a bit as he looks down to his shoes. Behind him we can make out a blurred form moving towards us from across the parking lot.))

I'll try to clarify. You asked me, "What do I have to offer?" and that's just it, Marcus. The point I'm trying to make to her. You have nothing to offer her. Titles, matches, victories... I'm sure she could care less, and since you refuse to change...

((He trails off as Bryce's form finally clarifies on the other side of the SUV...))

NIGHTSTRYKER: Ready?

((He nods, and looks back over his shoulder to Stryker.))

November: Yeah...just a sec...and I'm driving.

((Bryce just glares.))

November: Ya know what Mark. You don't need to worry about me trying to break you knee...or end your career... or any of that stupid shit the majority of your adversaries try to dump on you. Because that's wrestling BS we all throw out there to intimidate. Instead I'll leave this very real truth. By the time the 15th has come and gone, despite what may happen in that ring...I'll still come out the winner, and leave you with a crushed and shattered heart.

'night tiger.

((A little nod tot he camera and then he spins back around towards Bryce, who's still glaring.))

November: Come on keys!

((His hand goes up and opens and closes a few times.))

November: We're losing daylight!

((Bryce finally tosses the keys at him...well more like throws the keys at him. Kyle, has to duck them as they go whizzing by overhead. As he goes to retrieve them...chuckling to himself...Stryker moves to the passenger side of the car...))

NIGHTSTRYKER: Cock sucker...

((black...))