The shot opens in the backstage corridors of the ATW Industrial Arena as former ReEvolution Champion, Adam Nedman, rounds the corner and comes into view. There's something different about him. There's an uncharacteristic spring in his step and instead of the usual Stoic look upon his face there is a rather broad grin. He looks like the proverbial cat that got the cream. Just up ahead, however, waits Pandora. If anything can put a damper on his day, surely it's her.
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Pandora: Whoa there, sunshine.
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He pauses there before taking a small bow and doffing his imaginary cap.
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Nedman: M'lady.
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Pandora: What on earth has got into you?
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He smiles.
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Nedman: The reverse of that is more like it.
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She looks quizzical.
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Pandora: Oh. Wait... what? Never mind. At the end of last season, at the Pay-Per-View, Edge of Sanity, Ghetto Blaster defeated you for the ReEvoltion Championship by destroying both your knees and climbing the ladder. I would have thought you would be storming in here, with a face like thunder, hell bent on revenge and getting your title back. Why so spritely?
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Nedman: Yeah, that does sound like something I would do. But there are two reasons that I won't be going after Ghetto Blaster and the ReEvolution Championship. Firstly, after that match, the only things holding my knees together were sticky tape and good wishes. So after many painful surgeries and a long recuperation period, I had time to reflect. There's an ancient Chinese saying, I forget the exact translation but it goes something like, on setting out for revenge first dig two graves.
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She looks pensive for a moment then seems to understand.
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Pandora: And what was the second reason?
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Nedman: Oh yeah. Well, like I said, there was a long period for recuperating from the operations, when I was just laid up in bed. And Ghetto Blaster sent round a number of his female, er, associates, many of whom are very well versed in various forms of, um, massage and physical therapies to aid me through my, shall we say, rehab process. As it turns out, Ghetto Blaster is not such a bad sort.
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Pandora has been stunned into silence. Nedman takes her hand in his and gives it a gentle kiss before continuing on his way, leaving her frozen in place. And the shot fades out.
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Pandora: Whoa there, sunshine.
-
He pauses there before taking a small bow and doffing his imaginary cap.
-
Nedman: M'lady.
-
Pandora: What on earth has got into you?
-
He smiles.
-
Nedman: The reverse of that is more like it.
-
She looks quizzical.
-
Pandora: Oh. Wait... what? Never mind. At the end of last season, at the Pay-Per-View, Edge of Sanity, Ghetto Blaster defeated you for the ReEvoltion Championship by destroying both your knees and climbing the ladder. I would have thought you would be storming in here, with a face like thunder, hell bent on revenge and getting your title back. Why so spritely?
-
Nedman: Yeah, that does sound like something I would do. But there are two reasons that I won't be going after Ghetto Blaster and the ReEvolution Championship. Firstly, after that match, the only things holding my knees together were sticky tape and good wishes. So after many painful surgeries and a long recuperation period, I had time to reflect. There's an ancient Chinese saying, I forget the exact translation but it goes something like, on setting out for revenge first dig two graves.
-
She looks pensive for a moment then seems to understand.
-
Pandora: And what was the second reason?
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Nedman: Oh yeah. Well, like I said, there was a long period for recuperating from the operations, when I was just laid up in bed. And Ghetto Blaster sent round a number of his female, er, associates, many of whom are very well versed in various forms of, um, massage and physical therapies to aid me through my, shall we say, rehab process. As it turns out, Ghetto Blaster is not such a bad sort.
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Pandora has been stunned into silence. Nedman takes her hand in his and gives it a gentle kiss before continuing on his way, leaving her frozen in place. And the shot fades out.
