"And this is what I return to?"

[Edward White looked into the promo booth, an exotic silk-kashmir handkerchief clasp over his mouth as to not allow the germs into this his million dollar mouth. The room, a standard space used by most, reeked of cheap liquor, smoke and a particular combination of stink and sweat.]

"Excuse me. Hey, you, the guy with the dumb hat."

[A baseball hat clad man turns around and gives an eye to man dressed in a full tuxedo, cufflinks and an air of arrogance. Under his arm, the man held a clipboard.]

"Please tell me who used this room last and if that's too much of a task for you to complete, I'll gladly speak with your superior."

[The man bit his tongue for a moment, mulling over his options. Eventually, he showed the clip to "The Socialite", jabbing his index finger into the last column: Pete Whealdon]

"... Figures."

[Edward White turns around and briskly walks away from the odor, one more moment there and he might have lost the fine French cuisine churning in his stomach.]

[As he walks down the hall way, he begins to mumble, however from over his shoulder the camera man is still shooting.]

"So, really, this is what I return to? Where is the standard? Where is the respect?

"We have a man chugging cheap whiskey in a promo room, chain smoking while billowing Daddy every other line while finger banging prostitutes between takes?

"I imagine it's not better with Jimmy Kort in his double wide with mountains upon mountains of canned PBR or with Mike Sloan... doing whatever he does...

"... Excuse me, did I give you permission to film me?"

[White is turned around now breathing down the camera's lens practically. He backs back a little, takes a deep breath, counting down from an number in his head.]

"Alright. I really can't expect standards from Defiance, this has been the home of rapists, racists, religious zealots and irresponsible lunatics. It's only right the man such as myself brings it back up to it's former standings. A task that even respectable men such as Elijah Goldman cannot undertake.

"This is a responsibility...

"No. No. No.

"This is a burden that is put onto my shoulders. A burden that normal people cannot handle, as proof with our very own Jeff Andrews stepping down from his once heralded positions to once again compete with the savages and simpletons.

"My business partner, Cancer Jiles, a cool exception to the previously made statement, of course."

[He grins slightly, his beard moving into the appropriate position as well.]

"And once again, I'm also back to deal with the financially irresponsible, the socially inept and the most childish of manboys. I'll tell you, the more things change.. the more they stay the same.

"Which in part, is why I'm thrilled. Money for Nothing and Cool for Free versus The Untouchables."

[He pauses and with every ounce of his core he faints surprise.]

"Ohhhhhh, but sadly their will not be a touching reunion of the two.

"Jeff, would you like me to call Joshua Bell to play you some melancholy piece for solo violin? I would front the bill for his performance and even the rental of the stradivarius violin he must play. Quality is important, especially for such a tender moment as this.

"Maybe, just maybe, I should go all out. A score perhaps? Would you want it to be composed by John Williams, Hans Zimmer or Gustavo Stanaolalla?

"Truly a tragedy. But the more I think out loud, these options are far too sophisticated for a man like you. Give me the word and I'll buy Dwight Yoakam a bottle of rye whiskey and he'll come and eulogize the event with an acoustic guitar and maybe some toothless cousin of Jimmy Kort on the jug or bathtub bass."

[Edward White laughs quietly as he searches his pockets for something.]

"I did come prepared to laud my success and censure your failures, but I've decided...

"I've decided to...

"... smoke this cigar...

"and once I find my lighter..."

[One a-ha moment later, he finds his lighter and ceremoniously lights and puffs on the cigar until it glows the proper even red. He sucks in and blows out smoke.]

"Point out how offensive of a man you are. While Goldman hit the mother-lode, I'm going to go deeper in the mine shaft. Well, I won't. I'll get a very small child to go deep into the mines, ignore the silver or gold that Elijah found and go straight for the heavier metals. Hopefully Uranium, I know some unethical friends that would play top dollar for that.

"International Business aside, you don't have a partner. You won't find a partner.

"As men of your stature would say..."

[Edward grins once more, before sucking on the cigar once more.]

"You're up shit creek."

[He cackles as grey smoke billows out from his mouth.]

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