[We cut backstage, just behind the entrance curtain where Christie Zane waits nervously… microphone in hand. She looks over her shoulder to the producers at the long table full of monitors and headsets and raises her eyebrows. We hear one of the faceless TV nerds mutter “he’s coming up the ramp now”... Christie closes her eyes and breathes a deep breath as the entrance curtain flips open and in strides a bloody, battered but very pleased looking Wargod.]

Zane:
Bronson! Please, a word for the website!

[Bronson Box stops with an uncharacteristic smile underneath his sweaty mussed facial hair.]

Boxer:
Gladly my dear, gladly. I always have time for my faithful. And for you, of course my dear Ms. Zane.

[The Wargod’s chipper demeanor is so unusual and off putting we can see Christie get visibly uncomfortable. Bronson notices too, smiling even wider, placing a hand on hers helping to steady the microphone clenched tightly in her tiny grip.]

Boxer:
Christie, dear… you don’t have to be afraid. Tonight was the successful completion of a long journey, one that started the very second I foolishly thought Edward White an ally so many moons ago. A mistake I paid for with a few months sitting alone up at the Conclave… watching. Watching as this temple to MY defiant legacy was erected by the very man who ousted me.

Zane:
How does…

Boxer:
It feel? How does it FEEL to be standing here in that very temple after stealing the bloody pay per view? How does it FEEL to know that some generous soul paid for said pay per view to be broadcast on every single television set in a certain white collar prison in upstate New York… how does it FEEL to finally vanquish the lauded Dusty Griffith and take my rightful place as the undisputed beating thumping driving HEART of this promotion?! 

[The Original DEFIANT leans in a little towards Zane who still seems rather nervous.]

Boxer:
How… does it FEEL… to have my claim of being DEFIANCE’s Ace validated? To be the MAN? Well Christie. It feels bloody fantastic to tell you the God’s honest truth.

[Looking relieved that her interview subject is still in a celebratory mood, she finally manages to gather her wits and ask an actual question.]

Zane:
Now that you're back and you've achieved your goal of beating Dusty Griffith... What’s next for Bronson Box?

[Box stops, his smile droops a little, a more thoughtful… but somehow sinister look flashes through his bloodshot brown eyes. He claps the petite little interviewer gently on the shoulder.]

Boxer:
Let’s see how the main event susses out, shall we? I happen to have a vested interest in all three of the personalities involved, you know. So I’ll simply wish the absolute BEST of luck to my DEAR friend Mr. Dewey... I’m sure the next edition of DEFtv will be an enlightening one for each and every one of us...

[That creepy satisfied smile returns in full force to his smug mug.]

Boxer:
Now Christie, if you’ll excuse me I believe I hear the unmistakable sounds of Mr. Griffith receiving a good drubbing from those FINE fellows of Team HOSS… I believe I’d love to sit down and watch that a few times over before I depart this evening. 

[Bronson looks up and away, his hand still resting on Christie’s shoulder.]

Boxer:
What a magical night, Ms. Zane. Bloody magical.

[As Bronson walks off down the tented tunnel containing the bulk of gorilla, Christie Zane breaths a visible sigh of relief calling for the camera to cut.]

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