You Want It, Come Get It.

In a dark room, with only the light of single candle illuminating his face, Wellington Dunne sits in a chair with the International Title in his lap.

"Caffrey, Caffrey, Caffrey, I've seen the interview, and I must say I'm impressed. That you able to think hard enough to form a coherent sentence"

Dunne lifts the title to camera

"You say this is the missing piece of your Triple Crown, did you fail to realize you're one of the reasons I got this. Without guys like you and Johnny Bulldog to push me, I'd be out there jobbing out to Veronica Moon, on a nightly basis. And, I thank you for the support, but don't think I'm gonna give this up that easily. I might respect you, but I'm not Kevin Nash, and you're no "Hollywood" Hulk Hogan. There is no "Finger Point of Doom" in your future. If you truly want this, then you're gonna have to beat like a rug, and lay me flat. This titles goes with who it want to, and it always chooses the Last Man Standing. So Caffrey, all respect aside if you want this, come get it. I'd love to make you a focal point of the next Chapter of the Age of Rage"

Dunne get up and leaves the room, only to rush back in and knock over the camera.

He picks it up.

"And, that's no bull. Buckle up you're in for a Wild Ride"

Dunne then chucks the camera clear across the room.