Tom Sawyer stands before a black banner. He's wearing a pair of sunglasses, because the edges of his eye socket still have a bit of swollen discoloration to them. He's wearing a DEFIANCE baseball cap, and an old Foreshadowing jersey.

“I don't know why I did what I did last show.”

He brings his hand up, adjusting the baseball cap's brim.

“I didn't even mean to end up in a three-on-one match. But life happens for a reason. I was shown humility and I was shown my place. I am not one man capable of taking on the Untouchables.”

He wasn't even one boy capable of taking on the Untouchables.

“I was in over my head the entire match. From the word go, I had bitten off more than I could chew.”

Tom put both hands on his hips, the bluejeans beneath revealed ever so slightly.

“Ronnie Long was way stronger than me. He could have torn my arms clean out of their sockets and beaten me to death with those suckers. That Longbomb... Well, I can't attest to it personally."

The kid glanced away from the camera, hand brushing over his cheek.

“Kinda... Can't remember it.”

Tom snapped his gaze forward, hands waving dismissively. “And Heidi? Man, she was something else. Rare form indeed, huh? Like the good old days, when she was kickin' everybody's ass all over Maryland. Man, it was some pretty kicks, right? Just... wish it weren't against me.”

Tom swallowed, and wiped his hands clean.

“And the Crescent Kicks... God, wasn't that double Roundhouse/Crescent cool? Too back it nearly broke my Orbital. That was a cool visual, wasn't it?”

He couldn't help but grin in spite of his pain. It had looked gorgeous.

“I was outclassed, outgunned, and outshined in every aspect of the concept, huh? Sure, I got some lucky hits in here and there, but I was a drowning man facing high tide. If I hadn't opened my big trap, I coulda avoided a lot of grief, and been there for Eugene and Christian.”

Tom turned, kicking a foot at the floor in slight frustration.

“If I had just thought before I spoke, maybe I coulda talked my way into a real tag match. Or a three-on-two. Or nothing, and been able to help Christian. Y'know. Something better than what I got.”

Phew. The kid let out a long breath.

“Well. New day. New match. Only one of the top names in DEFIANCE's actual rankings. Ignoring the whole title setup, the top person in DEFIANCE who is an actual, every-show wrestler who isn't either Heidi or my big bro Xtian...”

He spread his hands.

“Claira St. Sure. So. Again. Maybe more than I've got in the tank.”

“It wasn't very long ago that I was on top of the world with Lucas Harper by my side. We could beat anyone. Truly Untouchables, Untouchables, Chasin' Lincoln, $$$Cool, we beat 'em all! Nobody could keep us down for long! Any beating we took, we sprang back from!”

A moment passed, before Tom pulled those shades away from his face. Man, he still looked like ground up hamburger.

“Not anymore. Guess I'm finally getting older, huh? The luster has faded.”

Tom smiled for a few moments, laughing at himself.

“Well. Claira. You and I are both... On the outs? With the Untouchables. You, because you aren't their chosen champion. Heidi is their chosen asskicker. So the role you fell into with Kai is kinda...obsolete. They have all the belts taken care of, all the angles covered. You... You were a good pawn, but ultimately, you're passe.”

“Me? I'm just a moron who blundered into helping the Devil win the fiddle contest with Johnny. I saved Jeff Andrews' tuchis once or twice, and made sure that good and truth and justice were upheld. So Jeff could then turn on Eric because of his own ego. So Andrews could attack Dane because he doesn't think the Andrews name is whispered with as much reverence as the Dane one.”

Tom took a few long moments, licking his lips. Considering.

“If it wasn't for my stupidity, I'd have come in at the right time, been able to start competing, and wouldn't have gotten caught up in this Andrews business. But you know, Claira... My big problem is the same problem I had last show, the same problem I'll have next show, the same problem I'll have on every show.”

Tom looked flat at the camera.

“I don't know when to leave well enough alone. And I never can back out. I'm a terrible poker player, because I'm always all in. And if that's good enough to beat you or not... Well. We'll just have to see, huh?”

“We'll just have to see.”

From the sound of his voice... He wasn't too hopeful.

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