AMA Brian Zewbowski v. Liberty Olivera Lawrenson

[Kross Rhodes]

AMA GRAND CHAMPIONSHIP
Gold Rush Tournament
Quarterfinals Match
Brian Zewbowski v. Liberty Olivera Lawrenson

Deadlines
❂ Remember that role-plays are to be received no later than 11:59 PM EST on Wednesday, November 10th, 2021.

 

[CakeWalker]

*TRIGGER WARNING*

LETS ALL GO TO THE BALL GAME!

Part One

The scene opens up with Liberty Olivera Lawrenson standing inside an empty Minute Maid Park, noticeably wearing a Houston Astros Jersey and having a sour look on her face.

“If you don’t know who I am, then I would say it is Steve Sanders time. And by Steve Sanders I mean you need to pull up your pants, pack your bag and get the fuck out of my face. And that of course means that I do not need to re-introduce myself nor do I need to lower my brand in educating you that I am the only person in AMA Wrestling who currently possesses a guaranteed shot at the World Championship. Instead, I am here in Houston because I witnessed the biggest travesty in the history of Baseball. The only real team from Texas, the Houston Astros were robbed - but before I explain why, I first have to make it clear to all you schmucks why there will only ever be one team in Texas.”

It is evidently clear not just by her tone, but also by her body language that Liberty is in an incredibly foul mood, which isn’t surprising considering that the Atlanta Braves just beat the Houston Astros 7-0 in their own yard to clinch the World Series by a score of 4-2. The Minute Maid Park is completely empty, with Liberty very much being the last woman standing.

“The Texas Rangers are nothing more than a gimmick gone wrong, an abomination to this great state. Why on God’s green earth would anyone with any self respect ever cheer for a team that from its inception is nothing more than a Yankee team. I mean by God, they were once called the Senators and hailed from Washington D.C. That team is nothing more than an act of suppression and a reminder of the wicked, cruel and evil Union that once upon a time invaded the south under false pretences of liberty and freedom - when their sole purpose of invasion was domination and greed for capital. Let it be known, that any Texan that openly cheers for the Rangers is a blood traitor and should be cast out by their friends and loved ones at all cost. In order to be kind, sometimes you have to be cruel to those that you love the most.”

Liberty’s expression on her face doesn’t change, and for anyone watching it would be hard to judge whether this was a work or a shoot at this point with her facial expression and manner in which she is speaking being so convincing.

“But let us return to today - the day in which the greatest team in the history of Baseball, the Houston Astros were robbed. They were robbed by the selective thinking and double standards that are so rife in this country that was once upon a time a great nation but is now fuelled by six of one and half a dozen of the other. And the point I am making is not that if the Atlanta Braves were the better team, because only an idiot from Ohio would make those sort of bizarre claims. No, no, no - the point I am making is that one side is not treated half as bad as the other - despite much worse and more heinous acts of violence. And I suppose there isn’t a better way to kick this whole exploration - than by starting with the facts.”

At this point it is hard to tell what direction exactly Liberty is going with, at this point she just seems like a bitter sports fan who is unhappy her team failed to make the jump at the final hurdle.

“For the last few years all I have heard people say is that the Astros are cheats, the Astros damaged baseball and the Astros should never have won the World Series. And I am hearing little babies crying out in jealousy, because the pathetic little teams that they cheer for just couldn’t match the standard and style and overall skill that Houston brought to the league that season. People often ask, what does a team bring to the table? Well in 2017 the Houston Astros were the whole table with the Commissioner's Trophy placed on top of it. There are not ifs, there are no buts, because when push comes to shove we always were, we always are and we always will be the 2017 World Series Champions and there ain’t a damn thing that any of your bitter sons of bitches can do about it.”

Liberty smiles and sticks out her tongue out of the side of her mouth, as she raises the index finger of her right hand into the air.

“And the truth of the matter is that the history of the Houston Astros is poignant, because it is so similar to my own history in AMA Wrestling. Actually hold the record.”

Liberty cackles to herself, sounding more like a witch from a Halloween party than her usual self.

“Actually my career has been nothing like that. Because I am the baddest bitch on the block, in a locker-room that isn’t segregated but integrated and as the only person on this roster that is in possession of a future world title shot that makes me the most valuable and most important member of this roster. And if anyone disagrees with that statement, then they can crawl on their hands and knees and both at my feet - because no one on the AMA roster would be able to look me straight in the eye without removing all the teeth from their head in the process. But we have got a little bit off topic, as we need to focus back on the topic of Baseball.”

Liberty is fidgeting and jumping down on the spot and it looks as if she is almost ready to throw hands.

“Let us focus on the real elephant in the room. The elephant being that despite the false allegations surrounding the Astros and some of their players playing the drums on a bin, the real issue is in fact the Atlanta Braves and the culture they have created. The negative culture that is unbecoming, but also has no place at all in modern day society.”

Liberty pauses for a second, and has a solemn look on her face as she continues to address the camera.

“For the last few years I have seen a double standard and hypocrisy exist in this great American pastime that is baseball. How is it possible that banging on some bins, can make the Astros the most vilified team in the MLB - but teams like the Braves are literally using offensive gestures like the Tomahawk Chop and we are just meant to carry on with our day and pretend like everything is alright. As a Mexican-American I understand what it means to be a marginalized and victimised population - and when I look at how Native Americas have been treated in history - this theft, this is an appropriation on its worst level - because it is being down by the same people that did so much damage to Native Americans in the first instance. But - it is important that everyone remember that the Houston Astros are the real bad guys - because you know - banging bins or some other bullshit.”

Liberty looks worked up and is pulling off her best impression of She-Hulk as she has both her fists clenched and is visibly shaking with rage.

“But as always - the treatment of minorities has always been something that this government have always turned a blind eye to when they are in a position of power. This is a government that we only ever hear anything about injustice and action from, when they are sitting outside of the Oval Office. I stand in front of this camera as nothing else, but a woman. A woman who is fighting for change, a woman who is fighting for change, a woman who is fighting for liberty. That is why I will be voting for Donald Trump in the 2024 Presidential Election. Take America Back.”

A logo appears on the screen, in what had originally been presented as a promo for Liberty - but in fact had been nothing more than a political piece promoting the 45th President of the United States. The video would shortly come to end.

+ + + + + +

Part Two

Liberty remains in the Minute Maid Stadium, but the filming crew have turned their camera off and Liberty is slowly removing the Houston Astros jersey she had been wearing for the video piece. She is joined by her new publicist Tasha Hilfinger, a former wrestling promoter from the United Kingdom who has a vast history of helping put forward young talent in the wrestling business.

Liberty: Tasha - I’m not going to lie, I felt really uncomfortable doing that advertisement. This really isn’t something I imagined myself doing, as a means to promote myself in the wrestling business.”

Tasha looks very professional, and is constantly making notes the whole time and doesn’t look up from her phone as she replies.

Tasha: Liberty, sometimes we just have to say stuff that we don’t actually believe in. I know people sometimes don’t feel comfortable putting their face alongside that of a politician, but Donald’s people offered us a large amount of money for you to take part in this advertisement campaign. And as your publicist, my job isn’t just to make you look good - but to also put money into your pocket.

Liberty smiles as she finally removes her Jersey and throws it onto the floor.

Liberty: Oh Tasha you don’t understand. Whether it's Biden, Trump, Trudeau or Johnson I don’t even care about that. I am more than willing to offer my services to the highest bidders, that is capitalism after all. Everyone has a price, and I am all about earning as much money as possible whilst I continue to be a sought after commodity.

It is now Tasha who looks confused.

Tasha: Sorry Liberty, but now I am confused. What exactly about this has made you feel uncomfortable?

Liberty: Tasha I know you aren’t from the States, it is part of the reason I hired you - because you don’t bring any self bias to the table. However, part of my brand is to make sure I am as cool as possible. And when I say call - I mean lit. And when I say lit - I mean the dopest motherfucker this side of the border. Which means that I need to be careful with who I associate with. Now, I think before we carry on our business relationship something very important is established.

Tasha looks a mix between curious and bewildered.

Tasha: And what exactly do we need to establish Liberty.

Liberty smiles.

Liberty: When it comes down to it Tasha - I love my sports. Whether they are Worldwide or Home grown. Soccer, tick. Football, tick. Rugby, tick. Hockey, tick. Motorsport, tick. But I do have a line, and honestly a line that I am really unwilling to cross.

Tasha: And that line is what?

Liberty: That line is baseball Tasha. Now I am not going to act like a princess and demand that the video we recorded be deleted, but I want to make sure in the future that I am never associated with the sport of baseball ever again. If you can promise me that, then we aren’t going to have a problem moving forward. If it is, then I am going to have to shake your hand, wish you the best of luck on your future endeavours. Are we on the same understanding?

Tasha nods her head and taps some buttons on her phone.

Tasha: So I guess I should cancel the publicity stunt, where we throw dog turds at the Atlanta Braves bus during their celebration parade this week?

Liberty just gives Tasha a look.

Tasha: Okay - no more baseball events at all. Well I better make a few phone calls then.​

 

[Bobby Barrows]

"You just have to trust your own madness."
- Clive Barker

Part IV:
Pride Before the Fall
​

July 15th, 2021 St. Matthew's Holy Catholic Church Sleepy Oak, Minnesota *A familiar scene appears before our eyes as we see a newer, less ancient chapel, known as St. Matthew's Holy Catholic Church. A neo-Gothic classic design for the cathedral. It appears rather quiet, a few folks here and there, nuns and the like. Entering through the large chamber doors is a very familiar man. A small casual shirt, tie, and black pants make him stick out like a sore thumb, but Brian Zewbowski has always stood out considering his look anyways. With him though is another familiar face, and that is of Detective Harvey Brenton, with a svelte suit of his own, but less conspicuous himself.* ​ Zewbowski: Can you please explain what exactly we're doing here? Aren't we supposed to be investigating those missing kids? Brenton: Listen, Brian. We can get help here with that, but right now, we need this book taken care of. Humanity: The Mundi Deglutiens has one rather unfortunate side-effect that belies its usefulness. It can be well protected through the use of certain rituals passed from Ancient Rome to the modern Catholic church. Zewbowski: Hold on, you mean to tell me the Catholic church knows about this sort of stuff? Brenton: It's better if you don't ask that out in the open. ​ *Humanity's voice echoes in Brian's head, like a ping bong ball against the walls. It reverberates everywhere and nowhere at once, but it is fairly clearly understood.*​ Humanity: The short answer is yes, though. The Catholic Church is two thousand years old, Brian. They have learned many things in that span of time, some things that would truly bring fear to the common folk. ​ *As Brenton and Brian walk towards the altar, they see an older priest speaking quietly to a far younger acolyte. The priest is perhaps in his 50s, while the acolyte cannot be any more than in his early 20s. Brian and Harvey watch quietly as they approach, the older priest in garb fit for a holy man. The man notices the two coming closely and closes the bible before him, which he was reading to the young acolyte.* ​ Father Heinlam: Ah, gentlemen, I haven't seen either of you before. I am Father Heinlam, how may I help you? ​ *Brian turns to see the young man, and there's this absolutely strange sense of... deja vu. As if these two have met before. The young acolyte has a boyish face, light blonde hair, and circular glasses. Brian tries to shake off the weirdest feeling as Father Heinlam turns to the young man and sends him away.* ​ Father Heinlam: Don't worry about the boy, my friends. Young mister Remus is under my tutelage, and someday he will take over for me as the assigned priest of this church. ​ *The name Remus pings Brian somewhat, bringing a stronger feeling to this odd sensation he is experiencing. He doesn't know why right now, but that name may become important later on. Brenton however is all business today, he turns to Father Heinlam and clears his throat.* ​ Brenton: Father Heinlam, I understand that your education was spent in Rome's papal courts, correct? Father Heinlam: Well, this is a surprise, how did you know that? ​ *Harvey Brenton steps up to the altar, before Heinlam, and pulls out that horrid book, Mundi Deglutiens for the priest to see. As soon as he takes on look at it, his face goes pale white, looking at Brenton and Brian with suspicion and then his eyes darting to the others in the chapel. He shakes his head quickly and ushers the two to follow him.* ​ Father Heinlam: Let's take this to my office, gentlemen. Not out here. ​ *Brian feels confused, as how could such a simple priest know such a thing? The voice in his head, that of Humanity, speaks slowly to him.*​ Humanity: I sense your confusion, Brian. The church knows all about Ammar and the book... but only those who have been taught in the halls of Rome, and sworn to an oath of secrecy. ​ *After some time, Brian and Brenton are led into a quiet office space, where Father Heinlam sits behind a large mahogany desk. He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer. Brian and Harvey sit at two chairs in front of the desk and they see Father Heinlam begin to rummage through his desk, pulling out reading glasses and finally releasing some breath, beginning to speak.* ​ Father Heinlam: Alright gentleman. What is the meaning of this. Why have you brought this accursed thing to me. Brenton: There's been activity. We need time, Father. You having an education from the Church in Rome, you know how to stall the forces of destruction. This book, it needs the Ritual of Admonition to keep any of Ammar's cultists from being able to touch the damn thing. Out in the open as it is, it's a danger. ​ *Father Heinlam blinks for a few seconds, and then nods his head. He looks at both Brian and Harvey before shrugging.*​ Father Heinlam: I see... so you both know, do you. Why do you think I can help? I'm just a simple priest. ​ *Brian's face twists into a frown, his eyes shifting from their blue to dark-brown. Humanity takes control for a second and stands up, leaning into the desk and staring down at the Father. His voice is commanding, ​ Humanity: All three of us know, and I would bid that you show more respect to us. ​ *Father Heinlam is completely caught off guard at the voice, and nervously wipes away the sweat from his brow. He inhales, and then exhales slowly.*​ Father Heinlam: ... I see, so even Mortis is active, huh? Very well. I guarantee no promise of success, but that book is as good as protected as long as I stand here. ​ *Humanity leaves as Brian takes over again with a look of confusion; he pipes up quickly in this confused state and demands answers to his inquiries.*​ Zewbowski: Hold on, I need someone to explain this to me. What exactly are we doing here? What is the Ritual of Admonishment, as you call it? Father Heinlam: For a vessel of Mortis, you truly are kept ignorant, my son. ​ *Brian rolls his eyes and shakes his head. That's like the third time this bit has been played on him. He's not really amused.*​ ​ Zewbowski: Tell me something I don't know, pal. *Father Heinlam sighs and leans forward in the desk. He looks down at the Mundi Deglutiens laid before him by Brenton, and after a few seconds he turns to Brian.*​ Father Heinlam: Very well, I shall explain. The Ritual of Admonishment is an ancient ritual handed down from before even the Romans existed. It is dated to have existed as far back as the Trojan War, at least as far as we in the Catholic Church are aware. It may be even older. It is a process by which this... book... is bound by forces that prevent its usage. Think of it as creating a living lock; the person who sets the ritual becomes the lock by which the book is bound. Only that person can unlock its usage... It is not a spell for any common man, and only those who have been taught in Rome know of it; but we do not speak of it openly, save for those, like you gentlemen, in the know. You have to understand... Ammar is not something to be reckoned with. His awakening would damn us all to death without salvation from the Lord. We pray to God Almighty that this horrible beast does not awaken, because what would await us is a fate worse than apocalypse. In doing this ritual, it would buy time, perhaps by months, even years. Zewbowski: How is it this stuff isn't common knowledge!? You'd think something like this would cause a world-wide panic. ​ *Father Heinlam leans back and shrugs his shoulders in indifference.*​ Father Heinlam: The Church is powerful, and good at censoring information if it would harm the natural order of things. I... admit, our censoring of information, while it is intended to do good, doesn't always serve the good of the public... like with our own Church's covering up of... crimes against children, which I dare not speak of. Needless to say, it is a necessary evil. Brenton: You see, Brian, the Church are our allies in this fight, even if their methods are extreme. With the book off our hands, we can then focus on solving the mysteries in this town, and hopefully weaken the power base of Ammar's followers. Father Heinlam: So you're seeking to solve them as well, my friend. Well, I may not be able to serve as much help in your investigations, but what I can do is pray for your protection and for speedy results. Brenton: Father, we thank you; as long as you do your part, we will do ours. Come Brian, I believe we are finished here. We will leave the Father to the book, and we will begin our work. ​ *Brian and Harvey Brenton stand up and nod to the Father, who merely glances at them as he stares at the book, a nervous aura emanating from him. As Brian and Harvey leave the office and down the aisle of the church, they speak in hushed tones.* ​ Brenton: Brian, now that we have some time, I have business of my own to take care of; my own investigation of sorts. I will leave you to it, but I dearly hope when I speak to you again, I have a lead to work on. Brian, take care of yourself, but be mindful of any suspicious activity... especially anyone following you around that you don't know. ​ *Harvey taps Brian on the shoulder and walks away. With all that has been happening, the man is confused enough, but for some reason, he feels somewhat at ease. Ammar is on the move, but at least for a time, his followers won't be able to bring his return. Still, there is some nagging feeling in the back of his head. How long will this last? How long can this reasonably last? Nobody is sure for certain... but the sooner these mysteries are solved, the better.*​

August 11th, 2021 Sleepy Oak National Airport Sleepy Oak, Minnesota *We jump ahead in time to August, three weeks having passed since that meeting with Father Heinlam. It's also been three weeks since Brian had last seen Harvey Brenton. Who knows where he is at the moment. However, that is the least of his concerns. With the Mundi Deglutiens free from him, he can currently focus on winning the the AMA World Heavyweight Championship. This tournament coming up, it's important to him. However, there is another event of great importance to him. He sits in the terminal, in a waiting area, alongside Sarah DuBois. Brian is wearing a more casual affair, a button up t-shirt, jeans with a black leather belt, and his black wrestling boots. Why is Brian wearing his wrestling boots in public? Well, it's a special occasion of course. Sarah DuBois is also in more casual attire, a small grey blouse and some tight form-fitting pants, as well as her trademark Chuck Taylor shoes. Her excitement is fairly noticeable, as is Brian's anxiousness.* ​ Sarah: How long is this going to take? I just can't wait any longer! Brian: Just be patient, Sarah. The plane just landed, after all. She'll be here soon. Sarah: I know, I know! It's been so long since I've seen her! ​ *From the tone in both of their voices, they are speaking fondly of someone who will be appearing. A woman, that is; perhaps someone from their past? For sure someone from Brian's past. As they speak, people begin pouring out of the walk-way from the plane. From there, she appears. A shortish girl, standing 5'5", clearly of Japanese descent. Her reddish hair makes her stand out from the crowd, alongside her otherwise stunning natural beauty. With a tight t-shirt that accentuates her physical features, and a pair of tight jeans, and of course, black wrestling boots. Brian and Sarah immediately stand and wave to her. She notices them and with a big smile, comes up to them quickly.* ​ ???: Kon'nichiwa, sensei! [Hello, Sensei!] ​ Brian: Yurei-Chan, it's great to see you again. How was your flight? *This woman before the two of them is none other than Aka Yurei. In Japan, she is known as the "Crimson Ghost". One of the best and brightest stars in the Joshi scene; though she looks harmless enough now, she is a deadly and devastating performer in the ring. How could she be so good? Well, as a matter of factly, the man who trained her is none other than the infamous "Jujika-Ou", the "King of Crucifix" himself: Brian Zewbowski.*​ Aka: It was good, thanks. Can't believe we're together again, all of us. Sarah-chan! I missed you! *Aka and Sarah share one big hug with one another, in a great happy embrace. Brian pats their shoulders and smiles softly. Without having to worry about that book, and without having to think too hard about Ammar and the mysteries plaguing this town, this small moment makes him happy.* ​ Sarah: I missed you too, Yurei-chan! How have you been? You been okay? Taking care of yourself? You better be! ​ *Aka turns to Brian with a small laugh and shakes her head.* ​ Aka: She been like this with you, Sensei? Kowai [Scary]! Brian: Trust me, it's worse than you think. Sarah: Hey, that's real mean you two! I'm not that mean! ​ *The three share a laugh with one another. Brian turns to look at his watch... it's just past Noon. Brian rubs his hands together and motions the girls to come follow him.* ​ Brian: Let's get going, why don't we? Who wants to grab something to eat? On me, of course. Oh- and one more thing, Yurei-chan... welcome to the AMA. Aka: It's good to be here... I hope the Crimson Ghost is welcome and can be a good fit here. Sarah: Knowing you, Yurei-chan, you'll be a champion before you know it! Who knows, maybe you and Brian will have to battle it out! Aka: If that happens, Sarah-chan, I'll be sure to show Sensei what I'm made of! Brian: I would expect nothing less, Yurei-chan. ​ *Brian, Sarah, and Aka start walking away, Brian with an arm over Sarah and chatting happily with Aka. It's a nice moment of reprieve for Brian himself, after all that has been going on.*​

August 24th, 2021 Chase Arena San Francisco, California *The camera opens up in the empty Chase Arena, with a ring already set up in the middle of the arena. There is Brian Zewbowski, sitting there in the middle of the ring staring out at the empty rows of chairs and seats. He's in his ring-gear and his hair is wet, dripping with water. The anticipation in his movement is palpable. He turns to look at his hands and sighs.* ​ Brian: One victory out of the way, a few more to go. Before too long, I may finally become the AMA World Heavyweight Champion. What a wonderful sight it would be, to finally earn such a grand achievement in my lifetime. However, I cannot look too far ahead. In life, it is better to take things one step at a time; anticipating the future can lead to disappointment and great displeasure. You must plan each step carefully. It is the way of a warrior to worry about the present, and forget the future. ​ *Flashbacks hit on-screen, Brian's many victories within AMA, including against Brandon Roberts in the first round of the tournament. It was a hard fought victory, but Brian sighs and nods his head.* ​ Brian: In the wrestling business, it is about constantly striving to be the best. In order to be the best, one must learn from mistakes of the past and work to improve on them. In my battle with Brandon Roberts, I made many key mistakes that could have cost me victory. I've studied the film carefully, and I've come to learn what I could have done better. I take my time and I take this sport seriously. It is my life, it is everything to me. In this ring, I am one, and I strive for perfection. ​ *The camera then shows several shots of his upcoming opponent: Liberty Olivera Lawrenson. A proud and arrogant woman in AMA Wrestling, known for her outspoken personality and badass persona. Brian shakes his head and carries a smirk on his face.* ​ Brian: There are those who think they are perfection already. Brandon Roberts was one of them, and he fell before my feet. My opponent coming up, madame Liberty, is another such person. Behind all the words, and the taunts, and the prattering speeches, she is an egoist, plain and simple. Whatever feeds her, she suckles on closely. There is such a problem with people like her. When they lose, they become unable to come to terms with themselves. Perhaps it is a bruise to their supposed greatness. Or perhaps they must find some other scapegoat to feel better about themselves. ​ *Brian sighs and shakes his head. Many years ago, he was much the same. This tired persona of greatness personified. Many like that had come and gone. This character of a maddened demon believing to be right and truly the best at bringing pain and misery. A rose by any other name is merely a rose to Brian. It was not truly who he was anymore. His humbleness reflective of his thoughts on the grand scheme of society and life at large. With the haunting thoughts plaguing the back of his head, gnawing like a monstrous virus. Brian knows he is not the best.*​ Brian: There is an old adage, my dear Liberty. "To be the best, you must beat the best". However, I will warn you. I make no claims to be the best of anything. I am who I am, Brian, simple Brian. What I do claim is that I *strive* to be the best. I don't rest until I perfect my gameplan and make my way through this world. Becoming the best means one thing, winning matches. You win some, and you lose some, and that is a part of life. Before you can learn to win, you must learn to lose. Liberty, I feel you must learn how to lose before you can become a champion. When we step into the ring, it will be a battle between the two of us, one of us will win, and the other will lose. Should I lose, so be it; that is the nature of life, I would not be good enough. ​ *Brian inhales and then exhales slowly. He means what he says, and what he says seems to carry weight, at least to him. There are no grand declarations and no great self-aggrandization here. It is a man who is just simply speaking what's on his mind. Lady Liberty brings some sense of nostalgia within Brian. Perhaps even reminds him a little of himself from a long time ago.*​ Brian: But for me, winning would also be the nature of life. I can control my own destiny, though. I can do what I can to win, and I do it humbly. I make no grand claims about myself, I do no such promotion of my ego, no such arrogant grandstanding. Brian Zewbowski, the man himself, is not known to be a man who cries from the mountaintops of his greatness. You and I have had different experiences. I am a man who on more than one occasion fell down, lost his step, thought it to be over. On more than one occasion I thought about retirement, and on more than one occasion, I truly did retire for a time. Every time though, I came back, because I believed in myself. I believed not in my own greatness, but in the support and the love others had given me in times of failure. They helped me back to my feet, made me stronger, made me believe in myself again. Lady Liberty, I have one thing to ask you. You have your people who stroke your ego; but will they be there for you when you fail? Will they stand by your side through dusk until dawn, through thick and through thin? Or will they leave you, to find the "next big thing"? Perhaps those questions will plague your mind now, when we step into the ring. However, I wish not that for you. I want you at your best, and their best is what I demand from all my opponents. So Lady Liberty, show me what you have. ​ *Brian steps through the ropes to the floor, and begins to walk away, turning to the camera, with a wicked smile. He knows his job won't be done until he wins. He must win, for himself. Lady Liberty awaits him.*​