Uugghh...

[Seth Lerch/Rick Mad]

The scene opens up in the former WCF Arena. Or, anyway, some arena that WCF always traveled to a lot since I never really established that situation for sure. Anyway, let's just pretend we're at a place called the WCF Arena, shall we? It looks largely the same as when we last saw it. Except for one detail: There is a man slumped over at the door, eyes closed. His hair is a mess and his clothes, jeans and a black shirt, look somewhat dirty. There's a bottle of Bicardi 151 on one side of him and a briefcase on the other. He slowly opens his eyes. This man is the former owner of WCF, Seth Lerch.

Seth Lerch: Ergh.. ugh... where am I...

Seth looks up and notices his surroundings.

Seth Lerch: Fuck. Why'd I end up back here!?

Seth slowly gets to his feet and picks up the bottle, throwing it against the wall in a fit of rage.

Seth Lerch: How.. how could I let this happen!? WCF was my life, my everything.. sigh..

Seth slouches down again before noticing the briefcase on his other side.

Seth Lerch: Hm, what could this be?

Seth opens the briefcase up and reads some papers. Slowly, a look of horror comes across his face.

Seth Lerch: ...GWC... uh.. talent contract?!... wait.. what, no... oh sweet zombie Jesus what did I get myself into this time... Chris Cage? Assault?...

Seth slowly realizes that he has now become an official member of the GWC roster.

Seth Lerch: And wait.. what does this fine print say? Hrmm.. um... "At the request of Seth Lerch himself, he is absolutely NOT allowed to quit or exit out of the contract."

Seth pauses for a moment.

Seth Lerch: WHY IN THE HELL WOULD I DO THAT!? Must've known once I sobered up I'd want to quit... oh god damnit. Well, looks like I need to call in some favors...

Seth slowly gets back to his feet and stumbles away.