“Alright look …” Kevin begins in as the camera man struggles to get it back on record and catch everything.

“I got my shot … CSWA in all of its glitz and glamour … I stepped in here I thought I had the inside track, Nemesis had already been making noise for awhile while I was spinning my wheels over in the MWC or EWI … whatever it was.

So you know with the success we had over they’re with Manifest Destiny and I got the chance to hit the CSWA and join up the UnHoly I figured … ‘aight, here go … all these years of barbwire bums, four corners of destruction, steel cage, fire … whatever, whatever are finally over’

I wasn’t here a month … fire ball to the face dropped from the UnHoly, turn around loose to Steve Radder … kicked out the ****in’ league.”

Kevin lights a cigarette and takes a drag.

“After that I couldn’t even go back to the EWI … to many burned bridges from Newfoundland to Greensboro, hell down to Texas and back to Chicago. It was Japan or bust … my brother took to Mexico and after the Manifest Destiny fallout I wasn’t running the risk of bumping into him.

I hit Japan and it wasn’t long before they’re were tired of my half assed technique … submissions have always been my thing but over there they want perfection and whether I was successful or got my ass beat I’ve never been known as a technician by any means.”

Kevin takes another drag.

“I mean, with the CSWA in the situation it’s in … I feel almost like I missed my chance … yet again. I’m here now and they’re gonna have hell getting this belt back but … I can’t help but feel a day late and dollar short. I …”

The bus comes to an abrupt stop. Kevin turns to the window and realizes its yet another coffee/piss break for the driver.

“I … I need a beer.”

Kevin heads toward the front of the bus, and exits just behind the driver.