*Thomas Drago is seen talking to the backstage crew when a familar figure walks through the frame, Drago turns to see who it is before turning back to his friends, then his head shoots back to the figure and he rushes towards him.*
Drago: It can't be you!
*The figure is revealed to be a really happy Tyson Frost.*
Tyson: Sup, Tommy? Aren't you glad to see me?
Drago: Wh-Wh-Wh
Tyson: Hey, Tommy. Can you please help me confirm that this is not true?
*Tyson pulls out a Goth Girl magazine, the cover has Robert Blake sitting down on a little stool with the World Championship on his shoulder.*
Drago: Yes, it's true. It's been true for a while.
Tyson: Really? This place sure went to crap after I was injured, didn't it? I mean, come on, he looks like if Bork Laser and Marylin Manson had a child and then put it up for adoption in an all girls orphange. And HE'S the face of the company? Sheesh. What about the other titles?
Drago: Well, Chris Young is the IC Champion. And Alex Pierse is the Iron Man Champion.
Tyson: That seems about right. I mean, Chris is a mid to upper mid card guy, don't tell him I said that, it'll go to his really messed up head. Wait, did you say Alex Pierse? Ha, the guy that can't cut a promo for his life and has to rely on a girl I brought into wrestling? That's priceless. Anyway, you look like you're just about burst. Was there something on your mind?
Drago: Yes, actually. WHY THE HELL ARE YOU-
Tyson: Woah, calm down. Wait, there's Ben! I'll be right back in two minutes, pinky promise.
*Tyson dashes off and leaves Thomas Drago confused at what just happened.*
