The scene opens out onto the interior of Hans von Richtoven’s Aston Martin DBS V12, as he drives to the McKale Center. At the moment, he’s in conversation with his younger brother; Heinrich, via the Bluetooth system in his car.

(Heinrich): … I mean can you actually believe Deas. What a joke!

(Hans): He’ll never change. Neither will Eddie for that matter.

His brother’s groan comes from the speaker.

(Heinrich): You’re still not annoyed at that are you?

(Hans): Course I am! Soon as the man get’s what he wants, he’s back to being best friends. It’s all hugs and kisses and ‘I love you guys’ now that he’s got that World title around his waist. It sickens me.

A look of disgust is etched over Hans’ face, as his brother’s laughter cuts across the speakers.

(Heinrich): All set for AC. I’ve heard on the grapevine that he’s feeling like himself again.

(Hans): Well good for him, it’d be a shame to face him when he’s nursing injuries. Yeah, I’m all set for him; you’ve got the bruises on your forearms from our sparring session yesterday to prove it!

(Heinrich): That was a lucky move you managed to pull. I let you get away with it.

(Hans): Oh you did now, did you?

He smirks, as he indicates left, leaving it a few seconds before turning the car wheel to move into the other lane.

(Hans): That’s funny, because I don’t remember you being so cocky about it at the time. Some whimpering and a few choice words are all that seemed to come out of you.

(Heinrich): I don’t know what you’re talking about.

The two brothers share a laugh.

(Hans): What about yourself?

(Heinrich): Oh-ho-ho. Raring to go. Tonight can’t come quickly enough, let me tell you.

(Hans): You’re looking forward to this?

The expression on his face seems to switch between disappointment for the situation that brought Butch and Heinrich together, and envy for the opportunity that his brother has to get no small measure of revenge for what’s been done.

(Heinrich): *Laughs* If I told you I was practically bouncing up and down in this car park with excitement, would you believe me?

While contemplating his response, Hans’ eyes flash to the rear and side mirrors of the Aston Martin, checking his position to the other traffic.

(Hans): Actually I would…

(Heinrich): Did you catch that promo where Sean more or less verbally rips out his heart?

(Hans): Uh-huh, Vanessa had it on repeat for most of the morning.

(Heinrich): Well I’m just going to add to that misery which is so richly deserved, only this time Butch will have no chance to bottle it up and hide it away. That ankle of his…

Hans interjects.

(Hans): You’d go for his ankle?

(Heinrich): *Incredulously* You think that’s a bit far?

Hans mulls over his response, eyes seemingly distant, before with a slight shake of the head, and a tug at the corner of his mouth showing his teeth clenched tight, he responds.

(Hans): No, I don’t.

(Heinrich): Good. I know you’re holding out on him Hans, and I was too. But there comes a time when you have to draw a line.

(Hans): *Sighs* I know… I know… it’s just, why Butch?

(Heinrich): Why you? Butch isn’t the first one to be under Senester’s wing afterall…

Hans can’t answer his brother, eyes staring straight ahead for several moments, until the beep from his satnav brings him back.

(Hans): Right, that’s me there. I’ll be at the entrance in about two minutes.

(Heinrich): Excellent…

The scene fades out momentarily, before coming back in on the VIP parking section of the McKale Center. In the middle of the camera’s view is Heinrich von Richtoven, phone raised up to his ear, leaning back against one of the concrete pillars awaiting his brothers arrival.

The sound of a powerful engine grows in the background, as Hans’ sleek black Aston Martin pulls into view around several parked Fords and Chevrolets. Heinrich raises up his free hand to wave at the car.

The Aston Martin draws to a halt several feet in front of his brother, who thumbs his phone off, disconnecting the call, before walking round to the drivers door.

Hans disengages the engine, as his brother opens the door, leaning in; a confident smile very much in place.

(Heinrich): Let’s go get ‘em brother.

The scene fades to black.