The room was dark-hued, the exposed bricks making up the wall only just highlighted by the little light in the room. A single overhead light cast long, slanted shadows across the microphone stood up on a small table between two chairs. Leaning forwards out of one, The Undertaker leaned forward, his voice low, edged with gravel and time.

Undertaker: "So here we are, man. The HWA World Champion. The face of that company. It’s a hell of a thing, holding gold like that. How’s it feel?"

Stu-E Price sat across from him, relaxed but alert, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair. His championship belt lay across his lap, a silent declaration of his reign. Matt Lyda the co-host was next to Stu-E. Price exhaled, as if considering the weight of his answer before speaking.

Stu-E Price: "You know what, Taker? It’s heavy in every sense of the word. You win the title, and you think that’s the hard part. But carrying it? Keeping it? That’s where the real fight begins."

Matt Lyda: "Like climbing Everest and realizing the hardest part is staying on top without falling off."

Undertaker nodded, a small smirk flickering across his lips, as if hearing an echo of his own past.

Undertaker: "I like that. I like that a lot. You and I both know, it’s not just about the matches—it’s about the legacy. You’ve had some wars in that ring on the way to the Gold. What’s been your toughest?"

Stu-E leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

Stu-E Price: "Toughest? Mate, at my age, they’re all bloody tough! Every match since I’ve been back has left something behind! But I’ve just had to keep going."

Matt Lyda: "That roster you’re working with just might be a little on the smaller size but yeah, anybody on the roster can beat anybody else on any given night."

A pause. Undertaker nodded again, his massive hands clasped before him.

Undertaker: "That’s the thing, though isn’t it? The greats always just keep focused and just keep going. The ones who hesitate? They get left behind."

The two men sat in silence for a beat, the truth of it settling between them.

Matt Lyda: "I read somewhere that you grew up in Darlington, on a council estate. That kind of upbringing—it either makes or breaks you. Do you think it shaped the fighter you became?"

Stu-E’s fingers traced the leather of his title belt, his gaze distant for a moment, drawn back to a time before the bright lights and roaring crowds.

Stu-E Price: "You know what, I would say yes and no. It didn’t feel like it was a trailer park or it was like a bad neighbourhood. I only had one fight in school because I was ranked the 3rd toughest somehow simply because I played sports and I did reasonably well, even when I had never played the game before. And when I was 11 years old I took a penalty kick for my school at the local stadium in front of 5,000 people and scored while the rest of my team missed so I went back a legend so I felt like I missed out a bit because I was never bullied!"

Matt Lyda: “11 years old and you had 5,000 cheering for you? I can see why Laney is so comfortable!”

Stu-E smiles, he had never really thought of that before today during the interview, Darlington Vs. Hull City, February 8th 1992. In the weeks leading up to it he didn’t take it seriously, mocking his teammates that it only mattered on the day, and he was proved right, even from an early age.

Stu-E Price: “Yeah, I guess so! But um.. yeah, as long as you could defend yourself, you treated people right you were absolutely fine on a council estate. Even when the towns folk were having riots with gypsies near my house, you just need to have a little bit about yourself to stay out of it and just carry on.”

Undertaker: "Having that cold edge, at a young age, it sticks with you. I can see it in the way you carry yourself."

Matt Lyda: "Yeah, you don’t just get that kind of grit—you earn it. I respect that."

Price politely smiles, it had been a long time since he even thought about his childhood back home in Darlington, having to be home at a certain time in case of the riots and the random petrol bomb being thrown at someone’s house.

Undertaker: "I heard you made a name for yourself wrestling across America before you became the HWA World Champion. How did that journey start?"

Stu-E exhaled, a slight smile returning at the corner of his lips. "Man, that was a gamble. I packed my bag with barely enough money to get by and flew to the Canada on a one-way ticket. No guarantees, no backup plan—just belief. I landed a spot in WXWA, grinding it out in high school gyms, bingo halls, wherever they’d let me wrestle. Some nights, I’d sleep in the car. Some nights, I’d crash on a locker room bench. But I needed to prove I belonged."

Matt Lyda: "That’s that ‘bet on yourself’ mentality. I love it. I complain when my hotel Wi-Fi is slow, meanwhile, you’re out here sleeping in cars just to make it."

Stu-E Price: “That WXWA place was where I met Austin, when he was rehabbing from injuries, he remembered the days of him living on potatoes and we bonded over that, so I wouldn’t change any of it.”

Undertaker: "One of the wildest things I’ve heard about you, man—FHW StableWars 2001. You were in that triple cage match, right? Tell me about that."

Stu-E chuckled, shaking his head. "God, that was something else. I still don’t know how I survived it. Three cages stacked on top of each other, twelve men inside, pure chaos. I remember getting powerbombed from the top of the third cage, straight down through each level until I crashed onto the mat. I was out. Completely done. I thought that was it. Not just in the match, but in life!"

Matt Lyda: "Dude, I can’t even fall out of bed without hurting myself. And you went through three cages? That’s insane."

Undertaker grinned, intrigued. "But that wasn’t it, was it?"

Stu-E laughed. "No, it sure wasn’t. Out of nowhere, these little guys—midgets, show up at ringside. They started cutting a hole in the cage, the crowd’s going insane and next thing I know, they’re dragging my lifeless body through the hole and out of the structure. The ref sees me outside and calls it—I’d won the damn match without even knowing it."

All three of them breakout laughing at the absurdity of it.

Matt Lyda: "That is the greatest ending to a match I’ve ever heard in my life. Forget wrestling—Hollywood needs to hear this."

Undertaker laughs at the thought of Price being dragged out a cage by midgets again which makes Price laugh again.

Matt Lyda: “Was the use of midgets a regular occurrence?”

Stu-E Price: “They were there when the time called for it, it’s what we did; random stuff to entertain ourselves first.”

Undertaker: "I gotta ask, man—there was a long stretch of your career where you were the life of the party, holding the Intercontinental title several times, but never really stepping up to be the guy. Did you ever think you’d make it to the top?"

Stu-E sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I’ll be real with you—I wasn’t sure if I wanted it back then. I was having the time of my life, winning mid-card gold, traveling, partying hard. It was comfortable and made a lot of money. I knew I was good, but I never truly pushed myself to be great. And that cost me. I saw guys I came up with surpass me, become world champions while I was still clowning around. I had to take a long look in the mirror and ask myself—was I gonna be a name people remembered, or just another guy who never lived up to his potential? That’s when I got serious.

But then HWA closed and off I went into the sunset, affectively retired. When it came back it was the wake up call I needed as it quickly became apparent I could still do this to a high level and that’s when I became the guy."

Matt Lyda: "Man, what a wake-up call. Some people never get there, you nearly did and then that opportunity is taken away from you and out of the blue, you’re back in the business."

Undertaker: "And now you’re here, sitting across from me, holding the title in HWA. That’s what stepping up looks like."

Price looked at the World title and sighed. Deep down he was honoured to hear Taker say those words, but it reminded him of how little he hears them in HWA from his peers.

Stu-E Price: “As I’ve learned in life that’s all you can do is keep stepping up. Even when there’s riots going on all around you, concentrate on your own business and block out the rest.”

Matt Lyda: “And is that the mentality you’re going into Fatality with?”

Stu-E Price: “It’s the only way I know how to, Matt. I’m looking forward to the match, Maniac is a hell of a competitor, and we seem to clique in the ring so I think we’ll be able to tear the house down.

I don’t care that going in to the show everyone is focusing on Red Dragon and Scrappy Doo, hopefully after the show all the people will be talking about is Stu-E Price defending the World Championship with, or without the help of a band of merry midgets!”

Matt and Taker laugh at the midgets again.

Undertaker: “Good luck at the pay-per-view, Stu.”

Matt: “Yeah good luck, man, I’m looking forward to it.”

Stu-E Price: “Thanks guys, I’d have invited you to make an entrance, Taker, but in light of Triple H’s CBS comments, I didn’t think I’d risk asking the legal department if we could get away with doing it!”

Undertaker raises his eyebrow and gives a knowing smile as he shakes the hand of Price as the scene fades out.