"Well, credit where credit's due - that was a fairly good comeback." Back in the skybox, Hall had twisted the top off a beer for himself and was relaxing on the couch opposite X-Pac. "You think he could pull something like that off on you?"

"No way, man. I'm not like the Hardyz – I know what I'm doing." X-Pac's hair was hanging behind his neck, the tip just touching the start of his nWo t-shirt – the New World Order knew where the money was to be made: merchandising. "Anyway, he wouldn't be able to do something like that to me – it's a leg drop, for crying out loud. Hogan was doing those back in '95, and nothing's changed. It's still a move for washed-up guys who should've retired a while back."

The rest of the room laughed, nodding and grinning. Even though Hollywood Hulk Hogan had been one of the pioneers of the nWo, everyone in the wrestling world agreed on one thing – he and Ric Flair should have retired before they started needing jobbers to get themselves over with the fans. Hell, Ric Flair had been reduced to bringing in wrestlers from Ohio Valley Wrestling before he had finally been convinced to give up the job and settle into a nice nursing home.

"A toast to X-Pac - he's pretty smart for someone who hasn't felt gold around his waist for far too long." Nash grinned, taking his beer glass from the counter next to him and raising it, stretching his arm upwards and outwards towards the rest of the group. The remainder of the stable grinned and echoed his sentiments, clinking their glasses together before finishing off their drinks.

Putting his bottle back down on the table in front of him, Hunter looked up at the rest of the room. "Well then, lads. Is it really worth waiting around to see Mark come back from the dead once again?" Mark Callaway, otherwise known as the Undertaker, had a habit of dying in matches and then coming back to feud with whoever had done it to him. The latest opponent was his second half-brother of the decade, otherwise known as Abel – Kane had been defeated in the third Inferno match in history. "Or shall we just take a ride out now and see if we can get some sleep before Monday?"

SmackDown!, Shane McMahon's show, was on Thursdays. RAW, Vince McMahon's show, was on Mondays. Ever since HHH had gained both championships, he'd been able to pull some strings with The Boss and get the nWo slots on both shows – meaning that they could exercise something close to total control with the matches they had certain things riding on, unless they could pull some tighter strings and call the matches off altogether. A few weeks later, however, Shane had made his show open to all superstars anyway.

"Nah, s'not worth it. We can come back in a month and see him do it again." Hall grinned, standing and brushing some invisible dirt off his arm before looking around at the members of the stable. "Anyway, I got plans. Don't know about the rest of you – you're probably all going to spend some valuable quality time with your belts, I should imagine... apart from X-Pac, of course, he's just going to go straight to sleep."

The skybox laughed, all the inhabitants grabbing their 'valuables' and filing out the door before Hunter flicked the switch to cast it into shadow, grinning in confident expectations of his upcoming match next Wednesday against Shawn Michaels. It wasn't like anything else was going to happen tonight.