Kane got up from his pushups, ready for his fight. His mind was reeling, thinking over the person that had knocked out La Resistance. He and Rob Van Dam were defending their titles against them that night. If anything, he was glad Austin was back, though. Everyone in the locker rooms had to deal with Bischoff's shit, but not anymore. Austin seemed to be enjoying the ability to stun whomever and whenever he wanted, and had respectfully left Kane to his own devices, only scheduling matches between him and some other helpless victim.
This title shot tonight was all Bischoff's idea. But he didn't care. He was more than ready to kick some French ass, as was RVD. They were devoted patriots, and this would greatly promote their image. He looked at the title belt on his shoulder as he turned down he hall. All the way at the end, was RVD, who was in a puddle of blood. Kane threw his belt down on the ground and ran to his tag team partner.
"SHIT!" Kane screamed. The cameraman backed up a bit as Kane grabbed a steel infrastructure for something, and threw it down on the ground, barely missing RVD.
Al Snow, hearing the commotion, thinking it was a fight, and wanting to get involved, ran down the hall and joined Kane in looking at RVD. "Damn." He muttered under his breath.
"What the hell am I gonna do about the match?" Kane asked, picking up the infrastructure and throwing it down again. "SON OF A BITCH!" He raged.
---
Bischoff smiled in that conniving, annoying way as the camera faded in on him. "Hey, Kane. How's it going? Not to good? Too bad. The match continues as planned, but I've decided to add a bit of a challenge to your match. Instead of a normal tag match, we're going to make this a TLC. You're going to face La Resistance," he said with a pathetic French accent. "HHH and Ric Flair," he added a "whoooo" at the end of this. "And Christian Chris Jericho, the 'king of the World'."
Kane laughed at this. He wanted to see Bischoff try to present him a challenge.
"But did I mention the fact that I decided to stretch the rules a bit? Rosey and Jamal want in on this, as do Rico and Steven Richards. So good luck, you might need it."
Kane's smile turned back to its expressionless state. It was going to be a 10-on-1 match, with Tables, Ladders, and Chairs thrown into the Melee. Besides that, he had to find another Tag Team Partner, if only for temporary, to be in this match. Bischoff hated Kane, and wanted to strip him of every title he would ever possess, so he had given him an ultimatum earlier; get a partner for the match, or forfeit your belts as a whole to Grenier and Dupre.
Kane was not about to lose his title without a fight, but had no luck in finding a temporary partner. Jeff Hardy was at the top of his list, but was home with a damaged neck thanks to a Swanton Bomb gone bad.
He sat down in a folded chair, thinking over his options. He was about to decide to go solo like he did last time, until a shadow fell over him.
"Need a partner?" The camera focused on Kane as he looked up at the person.
"Hell yeah." He answered, standing up.
The shadow waited a while before answering. The cameraman was standing so that they hardly saw his arm; which was gigantic. "When the match starts, I'll be there." That was all, and the man disappeared.
Kane watched as the man walked out of the room, silently saying to himself so that the cameraman hardly picked it up. "What the fuck was that?"