FILMED HOURS AFTER THE CONCLUSION OF MAXIMUM DEFIANCE

The camera opened up backstage with Lance Warner casually walking backstage. The feeling especially after a Pay-Per-View where the home roster had been almost entirely shut out left the halls feeling very somber. Lance Warner - a man whose profession required him to be mostly unbiased - couldn’t hide the mood of the locker room affecting him.

Lance Warner:
Hello, DEFIANCE… this certainly has been a night that DEFIANCE soon won’t forget. We’re about two hours removed from the hellacious War Games match where the United Toughness Alliance was victorious…

He sighed - almost a hint of disgust in his tone.

Lance Warner:
We’ve got several of our trainers and medical staff working around the clock trying to help the stars of DEFIANCE. The UTA are off celebrating… we’re hoping to get a word from somebody… anybody… but it doesn’t seem anyone wants to talk to us…

Warner stops by the trainer’s room when coming by the opposite direction, a very defeated-looking Oscar Burns walks his way, holding an ice pack on the back that Scott Stevens had so viciously worked over just hours ago.

Lance Warner:
Oscar… hey, Oscar!

The very loquacious and energetic Burns looks like the Invasion-of-the-Body-Snatches-esque doppleganger devoid of any of his colorful personality.

Oscar Burns:
Mate…

Burns lets out a sigh.

Lance Warner:
Burns, a word?

He doesn’t even answer, motioning for Lance to… well, go through the motions of questioning.

Lance Warner:
Can we get your thoughts on what happened out there? What’s going through your mind?

The Kiwi lets out a heavy, almost defeated sigh and continued favoring the ice pack on his back.

Oscar Burns:
We lost, GC. I don’t know… Mark Shields, what the hell was up with that? I dunno… was he on the take? Honest mistake? We got beat, mate, what the hell else do you want me to say?

Lance Warner:
And what about your match with Scott Stevens tonight? Surely, that was a dirty tactic he tried to pull, throwing Carla Ferrari in harm’s way to help get him the victory.

Oscar Burns:
You think?!

Lance almost jumps back, a little caught off-guard by the attitude. Burns quickly puts up a hand.

Oscar Burns:
...Sorry, mate. Not your fault. Look… I’m a sportsman, but I’m a gentleman first. The lady was in danger, I reacted in the moment, but Stevens… abusing officials seems to be that ponce’s favorite pasttime around here. But… I do know this… if I ever face him again...

Before Burns can get out another word, the trainer’s door opens and out comes one of the five men that participated in the brutal match - Reinhardt Hoffman - angrily stepping out. No doubt displeased with the result of tonight’s match, the protege of Bronson Box stops when he sees Burns. The Gentlemen German doesn’t even try to hide his disgust.

Reinhardt Hoffman:
You'll do what? Choke?

The Technical Spectacle turns toward his fellow DEFIANCE roster member.

Oscar Burns:
Mate. You got a problem?

Reinhardt shakes his head.

Reinhardt Hoffman:
Ja… you. What was zat display earlier?

Burns raises an eyebrow.

Oscar Burns:
Excuse me?

Reinhardt Hoffman:
Herr Burns... I won’t pretend zat ze night went well for DEFIANCE… but in zat main event, we left it all on ze line… You? YOU? You had Scott Stevens in your sights and you couldn’t even pull ze trigger.

A rarity now… Burns. Angry.

Oscar Burns:
Mate… you SAW my match, right? One of our own was being tossed around by that brute, Scott Stevens! I tried to help her!

Now it’s Hoffman’s turn to be disgusted.

Reinhardt Hoffman:
First off, we are NOT mates. We fight on ze same side, but zat’s doesn't make us equals. Secondly… I didn’t hesitate out zere any time I had an opening. You did. And zat kind of with zat kind of hesitation isn’t somebody I want fighting alongside me. 

Lance tries to step in.

Lance Warner:
Guys!

Lance tries to reason, but neither Burns or Hoffman are hearing it. Burns gets in Hoffman’s face.

Oscar Burns:
Now, I haven’t been here nearly as long as you… MATE… [with a stern look] But I’m feeling stroppy. If you got a problem with me and if you are indeed a Gentlemen German… then we settle our business like men… in the ring.

Hoffman inches closer to Burns. Still very calm, but still very, VERY tense.

Reinhardt Hoffman:
Zat, we can agree on. DEFTV 93. You and I, one on one, Herr Burns.

Oscar Burns:
See you soon… MATE.

Hoffman brushes past Burns, practically brushing his shoulder into him on purpose before he limps away. Burns shoots him another look and watches him leave before he himself departs, leaving Lance visibly exasperated.

Lance Warner:
Ugh…

Warner takes his leave as well with that, the scene fades out. 

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