The scene opens up onto a small non-descript study space, with a Sony laptop placed on top of a desk, and Heinrich von Richtoven in front of it on a leather office chair. He glances at his watch, aware of the need to get ready for that night.

He taps a few words into the laptop, and angles the small digital video camera next to the laptop briefly until he’s satisfied.

With another few clicks, he begins a podcast for HWA.com.

(Heinrich): So, William, you have a few words to say do you? What a coincidence, so do I! The only difference is that my words are aimed at the correct individual…

He enunciates each words carefully, and slowly, a mocking glint in his eye.

(Heinrich): For someone who's apparently gone over the promos, you're so wide of the mark; you may as well be aiming in the opposite direction. Allow me to completely invalidate what you and your partner have been saying with this simple fact. You're not facing my brother. You're facing me. If you'd take a moment to phone your PA, turn on HWA-TV or pick up any wrestling magazine, you'll find that it's the 'Sons of Stupidity'… *Smirks* Sorry, 'Anarchy' versus Logan Neilson and Heinrich von Richtoven. Not, versus Logan Neilson and Hans von Richtoven, which is what you two, for some unknown reason, seem to believe.

He crosses his arms over his chest.

(Heinrich): Now given that you two read from the same script week-in and week-out, I'd have thought that you'd have had time to, oh I don't know, pay attention to these small, yet so crucial details, no?

Another smirk forms on his face.

(Heinrich): I'd gain a bit of humility there William though. Thinking me and Logan need to get drunk just to stomach facing you? How wrong you are. We're going for a night out, two friends catching up and having a few beers; nothing more. Try it sometime, works wonders for your social skills… on second thoughts though, probably not a good idea considering the last time you went into a bar, you and your partner tried to destroy both it and its patrons…

He raises up his arm to chest height, examining it with an appraising eye.

(Heinrich): Thanks for showing concern over my arm though, aside from some scabbing, it's as good as ever. No need to take my word for it though, since you do seem to struggle when it comes to what's being said on promo, I'll do you a favour and let you see it up close by putting you in a headlock or two with it.

He leans backwards in his chair.

(Heinrich): I do find it amusing that you try to portray yourselves as being better than when you both got your asses handed to you by my brother by waving the fact you've got championship gold around your waists, but sadly I won't be fooled. Afterall, you got beat by Deas. Bryan Deas! Two-on-one and you still couldn't beat Bryan Deas! *Laughs* You've got no chance against me and Logan! And as for the titles themselves, who's your competition? DnA? A bad terrorist joke with a Canadian lackey? As for the previous 'champs', you had Eddie eliminate himself early on to ensure he was fresh for his shot at the World title, leaving you with AC, a man who had been pulling double matches for most of the Australian Tour. Mouth off all you want about splitting heads, demanding we bring our 'A' game and whatever else you fancy, it's not intimidating in the least.

He shrugs his shoulders, a nonchalant expression forming.

(Heinrich): I'm willing to concede that given you two have fought side by side countless times already, you'll be more adept at the teamwork side of this than me and Logan will. But you've not faced anyone quite like me or Logan before individually, let alone as a team. And that my friend, is why you and Steve are going to struggle this Havoc… because if you struggle to differentiate between us two von Richtoven’s, then you’re not going to be able to handle what Logan and I will be bringing to this match!

The scene fades to black.