Epilogue:
"102...103...104...105..." Dave Bautista counted as he did the reps on his massive arms. He had just finish having a great match for that week's Friday Night Smackdown! taping, and was cooling himself down after the show with his ritual, 110 bench press reps at 50 lbs.
There was no exact reason for this, it was done purely to burn off the last bit of adrenaline he had from putting on his scripted battle with his opponent. Now only that but it gave him a chance to relax, being a former professional body builder, lifting weights was sort of entertainment for him. A fun little game he could play, as easily or as hard as he wanted to.
"106...107...108...109...110..." He finished, putting the bar back it's holder and sat up and took a sip of water as he looked around the empty locker room. He loved this time, when he and he alone was the last person to leave the arena, it added to the calmness he enjoyed so much.
He sighed happily
and stood up, and began changing from his blue wrestling trunks
and
into his street clothes for the ride home. One of the perks of
leaving after everyone els had left was that he didn't have to abide
to the WWE's strict dress code, of having to wear a suit to and
from arenas. Not that Dave had a problem with suits, but wrestling
(though fake) was tiring and hard as any real sport, and who the hell
would wanna put on a tie after wrestling a 20 minute match?
Honestly.
He had just finished putting on his sweats when he had heard a noise coming from the hall.
Shit, Dave thought, who could that be?
He reached into his bag and threw on his signature black T as he walked over to the locker room door and looked out... He sighed again, this time out of relief. He must of been hearing things, he figured. He chuckled slightly as he closed the door and turned back around.
And thats when Dave Bautista came face to face with X.A.N.A's dark cloud of evil.