The scene unfolds in the media suite of the HWA Training Center. Sean is in full focus of the camera, standing behind a green screen that, once the recording starts, is replaced with the HWA logo. Sean is adorned in simple get-up of cobalt-blue jeans, Converse hi-top trainers and an official HWA-licensed t-shirt. He smirks slightly as the recording begins, running the tips of his index finger and thumb up and down the stubble accumulating on his jaw and chin.

(Sean): You know, Tobias, I think this may be the first time we’ve actually conversed. And truth be told, you do have me at a disadvantage because you’re still new around here so I barely know enough about you to actually even diss you. But you know what? Let’s see what we can do, eh?

Sean cracks his knuckles and then his neck from side-to-side in an exaggerated fashion.

(Sean): You wanna talk about being better, Tobias? In fact, let’s go back to the beginning. Who actually are you? Who are you and what the f**k have you done in this industry that you feel you can walk around with a silver spoon up your arsehole?

Sean holds up his index, middle and ring fingers.

(Sean): Three letters, Tobias. S.F.A. Sweet. F**k. All. See, I’m not some zookeeper playing pro wrestler and I sure as hell am not some two-bit rookie you can intimidate, bamboozle and deliberately mis-name with supposedly-superior intellect and wit.

Besides, do you honestly think running through people’s promos, line by line, trying to trip them up and call them out is witty? Or gives you some sort of competitive edge? I can see you now, sitting like an obsessed football fan, hoping to hear something bad so you have a reason to be offended, writing down comebacks you think will be hard-hitting but actually go down worse than a comedian making a trans joke. In fact, are you sure you’re not Eddie Phoenix reincarnated?

That was his schtick back in the day. The difference is though that at least he got in the ring and actually got shit done. What have you actually done, Tobias? Aside from showing how you like to spend more time airing your grievances on Twitter than showcasing these superior wrestling skills you seemingly have?

A derisive snort escapes Sean’s nostrils with a slight shake of his head before he continues.

(Sean): But the true fact of the matter is, Tbias, guys like you? You’re a dime a dozen. You come in, thinking you’re gonna wield a microphone like a sword and swinging for the fences. That spitting these so-called home truths and dropping pipe-bombs gives you a shock factor and makes you stand out.

I got news for you, Tobias. It’s been done before and not once. You’re the default pre-made heel character in every wrestling video game creation mode with the same generic taunt and moveset we’ve seen a million times before.

In HWA, there was Michael James, Randolph Thurston III, Ixidor, Thane Givens… AEW has guys like MJF and Max Caster… WWE has The Miz. And now we have the latest incarnation, Tobias Clarke. A guy, who, in 20 years time, will be known for talking the talk, but when it comes to putting up or shutting up, you’re quieter than a mouse fart. You’re nothing but a Xerox copy of a tortured gimmick that should’ve been taken out to pasture along with Greg Valentine and Disco Inferno.

As for you, Erica, I can’t actually remember a promo you’ve cut when your tits weren’t out. You’ve been f**ked so many times on camera, you probably have your own thumbnail on Pornhub. Wouldn’t surprise me if the inside of your cheek is getting prodded by Tobias’s cocktail weeny the next time you’re on camera. Also, if you’ve got an issue with the camera time I’m getting, that’s something every participant in Ring Master gets to have. And well, you’re…not in that anymore so…

Sean’s smile and humour then disappear and a serious expression replaces it.

(Sean): As for what happened at Havoc, the only reason you’re not lying in a morgue looking like an extra from the Judgement Day flashback in Terminator 2 is because of Michelle. That’s right! The beautiful soul you almost bludgeoned to death is the only reason you’re even alive otherwise I would’ve let you cook like a f***ing burger on a barbeque.

So go ahead and throw all the tantrums you want, make all the threats you want that you’re going to be a monkey in the wrench, a fly in the ointment. It doesn’t mean shit to me, Erica. You, Dream Master, Reagan from the Exorcist and everyone else in between. None of you will stop me from achieving my dream.

The scene fades to black.