The scene opens up once again aboard in the Lady Moura and once again we find Butch Parker sitting in a plush black-leathered recliner chair. His head is back and he is staring absentmindedly at the ceiling and he sighs heavily. The opening of the door startles him momentarily as the beautiful Minerva enters the room.

(Minerva): You look like you're having a good time…

Butch sits up, leaning his arms on the desk as Minerva swoops around and sits on the desk in front of him.

(Minerva): What's up?

Butch looks up quizzically and just as quickly dismisses her question with a shake of the back of his hand.

(Butch): Me? Nothing, nothing; just a little tired, adjusting to these time zones and knowing we'll be heading back to the States soon. Messes with your head.

(Minerva): You sure that's all?

Butch regains his confused expression.

(Butch): Yeah, what else would be up?

Minerva nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders as she runs a hand over Butch's face.

(Minerva): I don't know. Buff Bridges appears to have posted another response to your previous retort; not sure if you want to address him or not?

Butch rolls his eyes and runs his a hand through his hair.

(Butch): Christ, what's he said this time?

Minerva goes to explain but before she can even get a word out, Butch interrupts her.

(Butch): In fact, never mind, I'll watch it myself.

(Minerva): As you wish. Also you've received several missed calls from Hans von Richtoven; do you wish to speak to him?

Butch's ears subtly prick up at the mention of the current reigning All-Star Champion and almost immediately he shakes his head.

(Butch): No, not right now.

(Minerva): Very well.

She lifts a remote control from the desk and turns it over the HWA TV network and after a couple of minutes of commercials plugging the Other Side and the success of the Australian Tour, Buff Bridges' response finally plays. By the time the footage plays, Butch's expression looks like that of a man that just sat through three hours of uninterrupted Norwegian politics. He slumps back in the chair after turning the television off. He turns to Minerva with his hand still extended, motioning towards the now-blank screen.

(Butch): Is he actually serious?

Minerva doesn't seem quite sure what to say or respond with, she just slightly stammers before Butch continues again, incredulous.

(Butch): Is he really actually serious?

Butch can't help but laugh in spite of himself.

(Butch): The man is a walking contradiction! I swore I wouldn't be drawn into a verbal tug-of-war but I can't let this slide.

Butch stands up from the desk and begins to set up his laptop to record another response. After several minutes everything is ready and Butch glances over at Minerva who is standing in by the door and as she catches his stare, she immediately interprets it and nods her before taking her leave.

(Butch): Buff....I said I was not going to be drawn into something like this. You over there, me over here, trading verbal blows until the cows come home but after that terrific master-class of a performance, you've forced my hand.

Butch is stood up but is stooped over his desk, his palms pressed flat on the surface and he lifts his head up, staring straight ahead.

(Butch): Do you do it on purpose, Buff? Or is just plain ignorance on your part to twist other's people's words or just not paying full attention to what other people say?

I have no interests in becoming a champion again or steamrolling my way through the entire roster; I'm not on a one-man rampage of vengeance and retribution. Yes, I am a very different than the man I was six years ago, Hell I'm a different man compared to who I was last month but that's common knowledge, Buff; my actions over the past couple of weeks have all but confirmed that.

You may not want to believe the truths I speak, mainly because; pardon the old cliché, the truth hurts. You claim to still be the biggest draw this company has? Why? Because of your name? Buff how much longer are you going to be beating the dead horse with that? Buff, I said you're washed up; that you're legacy is nothing more than a joke because the sad truth is Buff, that I'm right. Talon Wilkinson, AC James, even though I really can't stand him, but Eddie K, these are all the big guns now that pull in the ratings. You haven't held a championship in what? Three years? You pop every now and then to let the world know that you can still flex your muscles and look cool in a pair of Oakley sunglasses.

You're the definition of the past tense, Buff Bridges. No one is talking about what you're doing now, the only things being said are the reminiscences, things you did in the past. You may want to believe that you brought out the best in me before and that you're still capable of doing so, but again, the cold hard truth is that's just not the case, quite the contrary in fact. It seems that I am the catalyst that has caused you to try and rise up again. I daresay you've had more ratings over the past three days or so than you've had in a long time and who is that thanks to Buff? Again, need I say more?

Butch stands up straight from his hunched position and shifts his weight, composing himself before continuing.

(Butch): You may think you have nothing to lose or gain from this match but once again, you are very, very misguided. Tell you what; say that same sentence after the final bell rings Buff and we'll see if you still believe it.

Now, I'm not going to bother repeating myself any longer, I've said my piece a thousand times before and a thousand times again. But just once more to make sure it sinks in; you're out of your depth Buff, you're doggy-paddling in very deep and dark water and there are no buoys or search parties to help you out.

Butch leans down again, close-up to the camera, his stare cold and hard, his emerald green eyes almost turning to ice. He holds his left arm out, pointing with his index finger and warning motion.

(Butch): Mark my words Buff, at the Other Side, I will leave the fans with new memories of you, ones that they will not want to cherish for the years to come, no warm sentiments to look back on their old hero with. You claim to be the King of Kings, well I'm the Ace, Buff and I will you leave you broken, once again, with nothing but blood-stained memories.

Butch abruptly shuts the lid of the laptop, sending the feed and he swiftly turns on his heels and exits the cabin as the scene fades to black.