[The meeting having been ended, and the board room had emptied, save for Christian Light.  Still dressed in the sweat-soaked gray T-shirt, Christian sits at the head of the table, facing the camera.  To his right, almost but not quite out of shot, is the bottle full of chewing tobacco spit that Sam Turner Junior left on the table.]

 

[Christian’s face is one of solemnity.  Almost a contrite one.]

 

“The Last Nighthawk” Christian Light:

After all, I was the one that came up with the whole “two choices” thing.  I’m the one that drew the parallel between what I thought I must do...and what choices I thought you had in front of you.  But I spoke out of anger.  

 

I was angry at Jeff for cheating me.  I was angry at Kai, who stuck his nose in my business and allowed Jeff to cheat me.  I was absolutely furious at the lot of them for the scheme they hatched to bait Tom Sawyer into a one-way ride to the hospital...and nearly to his deathbed.

 

But mostly, I was angry at myself for failing.

 

[Light hangs his head slightly.]

 

Light:

Did you know it has been more than four years since I’ve been pinned in a singles match?

 

The number’s a little skewed, since I sat on the sidelines for the better part of eighteen months, working matches locally against guys who were looking to cut their teeth in the business for the first time.  And it discounts the two or three total losses I've absorbed in different matches, such as War Games.

 

But it’s been a long time, Dragon.  A real long time.  And I’ve got to be honest...I forgot how much it stings.  Maybe I didn’t deal with it all that well when I recorded that video, prompting you with the whole two choices thing.  Maybe I should have stepped back and, instead of just reacting and saying what was on my mind, I should have taken a more thoughtful look at what was going on and not tried to paint you into the same corner I felt that I, myself, had been put into.

 

[Deep breath.]

 

Light:

For that, Dragon, I’m sorry.  

 

But.

 

Regardless of how you viewed my promo piece...regardless of how you feel about the situation we both unwittingly find ourselves in...and believe me, I’d much rather have a normal, plain-ol’ contest of wrestling skill than the one-armed place I’ve found myself…you happened to pick the worst possible result you can think of.

 

You chose to lash out in anger.  You chose to lump me in as part of the problem with the Untouchables, and worse yet, you even decided that one of my legs was going to be the price I paid for what you termed “me looking down on you.”

 

Bad.  Move.

 

[Pause.  You can see Christian’s contrition fade, and now it’s been replaced by determination and focus.]

 

Light:

Let me let you in on a little secret, Dragon.  

 

I’ve been training this week with both arms tied behind my back.  Not because I think it’s easy.  Not because I think the Faces of Death training is below me, because believe me, nothing could be further from the truth.  But, since Jeff Andrews decided to put me in a bad position...can’t imagine why...then I had to prepare for it.  

 

I’ve had to learn to protect myself without the use of my arms, and believe me, I’ve had much better training days.  But I’ve picked up a thing or two in doing that.  I’ve learned how to compensate for a lost limb.  I’ve learned how to better absorb damage and protect the limbs I have left.  I’ve even managed to survive a beating or two from my sparring partners.

 

Why am I telling you this, Dragon?

 

Because if I can survive…even thrive under no-armed conditions, imagine what I can do when I have one of my arms to reach out and grab you?

 

Imagine what I can do when my opponent decides to motivate me with threats to break my leg.

 

Imagine what I can do when that opponent finds out he hasn't got the ability to shatter my leg and bleed me out in the middle of the ring.

 

Don’t confuse me for Jeff Andrews.  Don’t think I’m dismissing you just because Jeff is trying to make a mockery of us both.  Because I will cut you down.  I don’t know how just yet, but I will.  

 

And once it’s all said and done?  Once I’ve taken out Jeff Andrews and we’ve dispensed with the mockery that The Untouchables are putting us both through?

 

You can have your one-on-one match.

 

You can have your showdown with full honor and all the billing our names deserve.

 

But since you’ve decided to make this a fight without honor...well...for your sake, I hope you bring more than one Folding Chair to the ring.

 

You’re going to need a pair of crutches to get yourself out of the ring after all.

 

[End.]