The scene opens up shortly after Butch Parker has landed in Arizona after the HWA's recent tour of Australia. As he emerges from the opened door of the private jet, attired in pair of cerulean-blue jeans and the blue away Argentina football shirt, a tsunami of camera flashes and crescendo of noise bombard him but he greets the indistinguishable babble as if they were nothing but a couple of annoying wasps chasing after his hot dog.

As he reaches the bottom of the flight stairs, Butch removes the aviator sunglasses shielding his eyes from the bright Arizona sunshine and takes a deep breath before attempting to silence the babble of dozens of reporters shouting thousands of questions and accusations at him.


(Butch): Listen, I had a very little time for you guys once upon a time and I have even less now, so if you want to keep on shouting like that, you're gonna get nothing out of me. Now I just woke up from a twelve hour-plus flight and I'm not in the best of moods, so unless you can ask me some decent questions, get the #### out of my way.

The crowd of reporters promptly dies down and instead raise their hands nervously, some with pens, dictaphones and microphones in their hands.

(Reporter 1#): Butch, you have a lot to answer for after your actions at The Other Side, you went places some people thought not possible for a man like yourself, your thoughts?

Butch narrows his eyes and cricks his neck slightly to the side as he steps toward the scrawny-looking journalist.

(Butch): What do you mean "a man like myself"?

The reporter tenses up as he feels Butch bearing down on him.

(Reporter 1#): I just meant erm...they way you were before...

(Butch): What? You mean the good guy? The hero? The knight in shining armour, seeking the praise of the fans and everyone around him; beating up the bad guys and saving the day?

(Reporter 1#): I guess so, yes.

(Butch): Make no mistake about, you squirming sack of shit...

Butch looks up to the rest of the gathered media to address them aswell.

(Butch):... you ####ers listen in too and get scribbling; I am not a changed man, you get me? I'm the same man I always have been and always will be and will not change for anybody. You all think I'm misguided, a puppet, Senester's new muscle to ensure that his will be done. You don't know shit!

Just then a female reporter dressed in a pinstripe suit and her blonde hair tied up in a bun pipes up.

(Reporter 2#): Yes that's all well and good, Mr Parker but it doesn't shy away from the cold, hard truth that you're nothing but a bully who gets kicks from beating up on defenseless women. Have you even thought about the legal ramifications implicated with assaulting Vanessa Lang and Wisdom like you did?

Butch scoffs condascendingly and manages a light laugh, smoothing one of his hands across his five o' clock shadow before answering.

(Butch): You think I'm worried about being sued? No, my dear, Vanessa Lang is the one who should and is fully aware of the ramifications that would be incurred if she decided to take any sort of action against me. You can call me a woman beater or anything else, but the fact of the matter is that Vanessa now knows the error of her ways, she knows not to slander my name anymore and tell the lies she has been spewing over the past month. As for Wisdom, I have no comment.

(Reporter 3#): What about Vanessa's colleague Jason, Butch? All he was doing was sticking up for his colleague and friend and you just decided to assault him aswell? Are you homophonic, Mr Parker, aswell as a sexist pig?

Butch surprisingly remain calm after the comments of the last reporter and instead of exploding with anger, a wry smile crosses his face.

(Butch): No, ma'am, I am neither homophobic, nor am I sexist. Vanessa would have gotten the same treatment if she were a man. Women have been fighting for equality for hundreds of years, and I treated her like an equal. As for Jason, he was just unfortunately in the wrong place at the wrong time.

(Reporter 3#): And how do you feel about his promise of revenge this coming Havoc against you, haven't you inhibitions or fears?

Butch can't help but laugh out loud momentarily and shakes his head.

(Butch): I think I'll go with a solid "no" on that one. I'm well aware of the promise Jason has made to make my life a living Hell. He can moan all day about getting bullied, name-called, stereotyped, boo-f***ing-hoo. He knows nothing of Hell and I'll personally guarantee he'll suffer very severe consequences if he decides to pull anything, and I mean anything.

Another reporter chimes in with his two scents this time; a black man, in short khakis and a lightly-coloured buttoned shirt, who points a dictaphone in Butch's direction.

(Reporter 4#): You have to concede the point though, Butch, Jason aside, you have a lot of people gunning for you now. I mean, you've incurred the wrath of your former best friend, Hans von Richtoven after what you did to Vanessa, his brother Heinrich has the chance for redemption at Havoc, Logan Neilson continues to be an ever-present thorn in your side and you;ve managed to raise the ire of the former World Champion Talon Wilkinson; seems to me like you're running short of allies. What do you say to that?

Butch smiles wryly again, shuffling his body weight slightly.

(Butch): What do I say to that? What. Do. I. Say. To. That? I say you've just gone and stated the blatently obvious. Of course I have a lot of enemies, I've had to endure having enemies coming at me from all sides my entire career, so don't think spouting off a list of impressive names of people who have it in for me is going to make me nervous.

Hans can choose to do what he pleases; he can come after me if he wants, but he knows better than that. Heinrich's got his wish at Havoc and despite what you all may think, I'll deal with him professionally. Talon is a joke these days, he pissed all over that World Championship and was a true example of "flash in the pan" and even though he has a 2-0 record over me in the ring, if he wants to come and take a shot at me, I'm not a hard man to find. And as for Logan Neilson, yes, he continues to be an annoyance. Logan may be able to charm everyone with his charisma and personality, but to me, he's nothing more than an irritable zit, and one that I intend to pop very soon.

Another journalist raises a pen in the air from amongst the rabble, his scruffy black hair and thick-framed glasses the only thing really visible.

(Reporter 5#): Butch, what's your thoughts on Ring Master? Do you think you can win it again?

(Butch): I have no interest in Ring Master, if Senester decides he wants me to compete in the tournament brackets, of course, I will do my best but it does not interest me. Now unless you guys want my horoscope or what I had for dinner last night, I'll be on my way.

Butch turns to his security escort and makes a hand signal to them.

(Butch): Get these pricks out of here.

The head of the security acknowledges Butch with an affirming nod and motions to the rest of the team and they immediately begin to disperse the flock of reporters with excessive force as they continue to yell and shout questions at Butch, who swiftly walks away, ducking into the passengers' door of a black BMW and it speeds off as the scene fades to black.