Vendetta returns from yet another commercial break, and we are instantly treated to the classic mysterious hooded guy in the corner of the room setting, complete with short fuming breathing sounds, the figures head slightly tilted, rocking back and forth on the bench as he obsesses over taping his own fist tightly.  Light murmuring floats throughout the locker room, presumably coming from the hooded one, almost as if whispering a lullaby for his ears only…

“Fouuur green bottlllles… hannnnging on the walllll…”

The voice was very soft and soothing, yet somewhat unsettling… the hooded figure pounded his fist into his palm, inspecting it and nodding in approval.

“And if one… green… bottle… should accc-identtt-ally fallll…”

The figure begins to draw out the lullaby, reducing the tempo to a creepy stop before lifting his head up oh so slowly at the camera, revealing a very scruffy beard… on first impression he looked like one of the Ewoks from Return Of The Jedi based on his bearded chin alone.  Flashing a set of not so pearly white teeth, the partially mysterious man(?) cracks his ominous façade with a not so pearly white grin, carefully dipping his head forward and reaching to the tip of his hood…

James Carlisle
“SURPRISE!!!”

Startling the crowd on impulse, the bright eyes of James Carlisle shoot through the camera as he thrashes his head backwards, extended his arms out sideways and shaking his hands for effect.

James Carlisle
“IT WAS ME ICON!  IT WAS ME ALLL ALONNNNG!!!”

James Carlisle continues to chuckle, overwhelmed by something seemingly more humorous than he was letting on.

James Carlisle
“Seriously though, Icon… dude… I’m not going to sit here and rant on about something cryptic, I'm not the September 27th guy... you’re a cool guy, you’ve always been kinda there for me ya know.  I just want to let you know… ya know… sorry… sorry in advance anyway”

Carlisle releases a small sigh, his smile slowly going away as he scratches his head and looks back at the camera, shrugging and slapping his hands down on his pants.

James Carlisle
“It’s just that, that… that I’m like a Knockout King now ya know?  So basically I have to knock somebody out and it just so happens that it’s you tonight.  It’s nothing personal really, what can ya do.”

Carlisle sits back, looking around the room and twiddling his thumbs, waiting for something to break things up.

James Carlisle
“Oh hey, did you like my song bro?  Ya know? Ten green bottles… I was counting down the bottles like metaphors for all the guys I gotta knock out until Endure or Rev Wars… whatever it is!  I was trying to be cryptic, but I totally suck at that.

Carlisle chuckles, again drifting away in his own little mind.

James Carlisle
“Wow… I feel like I’m talking to myself right now, but yeah man… you know the drill, we’ve done this like ten times before.  I’m just saying before was before, and now is obviously now, plus I’m trying to be a bit more useful and needed around the place more than I was way back then, and basically I’m gonna hurt you, nothings gonna stop me blah blah blah… I’m the best… yeah… GREAT CHAT!”

Carlisle looks past the camera and upwards, obviously at the cameraman, making a cutthroat motion and giving him the thumbs up, as the scope of the camera swings almost upside down.

Camera Dude
“You and Icon sound like good friends…”

Carlisle stops and glares down the cameraman.

James Carlisle
“What… who me and Icon, me and that prick??  Hahahahaha, are you kidding me, I can’t stand the dude, seriously.  I mean, what the hell is he doing in the Hall Of Fame?  What’s he done in the last two-three years that I haven’t, he’s lost more matches than I have man, come on…”

Carlisle turns to walk, but stops and spins back at the cameraman, oblivious to the still rolling camera.

James Carlisle
“The guy stinks, face it, you know he’s shit in the ring, he’s barely sober, we never play PS3 together and I added him like a year and a half ago.  Friends don’t shit on friends, hell enemies don’t shit on you like that, it’s not cool… I could only play like Black Ops 2 against little headset shit-stains who all spawn-cheated and raped my ass.  You know how that feels, do you know how that feels to get raped, because I got raped… I got raped hard… like couldn’t sit down for a week raped.”

Carlisle speaks with a very bitter tone, not joking at all.

James Carlisle
“All that man-crush, love stuff was all horseshit for the camera, but when that young fuck gets in the ring with me… I’m punching him back to retirement.”

Carlisle shrugs, grins wide and simply leaves... and the show goes on.