"And that's four! Hogan has just tapped on the last turnbuckle!" said Tenay. "Hogan has won the Yappapi Indian Strap match!"

"I thought this match wasn't going to end." Replied Schiavone. "Why the hell were they pinning each other? The announcer clearly said that you needed to touch all four turnbuckles to win the match."

"C'mon, Schiavone!" said Tenay, the smile on his face clearly audible in his voice.

Tony Schiavone was not wrong. It was true that both Hogan and Flair were beyond their prime, and they needed a kind of match that required little exertion. But throughout the match, both Hogan and Flair were going for pin falls and the ref followed their lead and even laid down for the count. Usually in this kind of situation, Randy would be screaming into the referee's earpiece to sort the shit show out. But Randy was not staring at the monitors backstage. Instead he was with the rest of the consortium.

Somewhere, in the backstage area of the American Airlines Arena, is a door with a PVC plaque with the name Sting printed in black. This is Steve Borden's makeshift office for tonight. This is where the rest of the roster and crew could go and bring their problems. Previously, the guys would have to go through all the red-tape just to request the essentials. That's why Sting had adopted an open door policy. But at that moment, Sting's office door was closed. Inside Sting's makeshift office, all five men were stood around in silence. In front of them, Buff Bagwell was seated on a folding chair, holding an ice pack to his head. He moved the pack from his forehead, to the bruise on his cheek that seemed to expand further every time he lifted the ice pack off it.

Page had taken Bagwell out of the locker room to have him looked at by the medic while the rest of the consortium spoke to Dustin. Bagwell had suffered a serious neck injury two years prior, leaving him in a wheelchair for months due to spinal shock. They couldn't risk another serious injury like that.

Dustin was sat on a bench while the consortium stood waiting for an explanation.

"Tell them what you told me." Said Luger. Dustin looked up at the guys waiting for him to speak.

"I came inside and…" Dustin was clearly trying to get his words out as fast as possible. It was no different to a child being asked for an explanation after misbehaving. Other than the fact that Dustin was at least ten times the size of a child.

"Don't rush. Just breathe and tell us calmly." Luger assured Dustin. Dustin took a deep breath and started again.

"I was packing my stuff up in locker room 3 with Terry and I realised I'd left my jacket in here. So I walked in and Marc was sat next to my locker. We said hello and I noticed something from the corner of my eye. It was that pink paper. It was sitting in Marc's bag on the floor." Booker looked at Steve for a reaction, but Steve was listening quietly. "I asked him what he was doing with it and he made some bull excuse about finding it and taking it with him."

"Then?" Asked Randy

"Then I laid him out!" Replied Dustin.

"Laid me out?" Replied Bagwell, listening to the story Dustin had told the consortium. "He couldn't touch me."

"Marc, trust me. You were out." Said Page. "You were laid out cold when we came in the room. You were out cold when the medic saw you. Hell, you were still shaky when we bought you in here."

"That's not the point." Said Steve.

"Yeah, the point is what are you doing with the pink paper?" Said Randy.

"I found it."

"Where?"

"In that locker room. It was just scattered on the floor. So I thought I'd pick it up."

"So you were playing tidy up in the locker room." Said Booker, sarcasm oozing in his voice.

"Booker!" Said Steve, and then turned to Bagwell. "Was that paper on the floor when you were in there earlier?"

"No… I don't remember seeing it." Replied Bagwell.

"Who else was using that locker room?"

"There was me." Bagwell said, clearly trying to think by holding his chin. "Rhodes left his stuff there. Keiji Muto and the Rick Steiner were definitely there because they were playing cards. And… Jeff!" Bagwell had a smile on his face like he had won a quiz show.

"And you didn't see anyone else come in?"

"What's the big deal? It's just some paper." Said Bagwell.

"Look, kid. We'll ask the questions here. You dig?" Said Randy.

"I don't know. We go into each other's locker room. There are too many of us and not enough room."

"That's fine." Said Steve. "You can go."

Bagwell stood up from the seat. He looked in the mirror by the door and touched his cheek and winced at the pain.

"I hope it goes down soon." Said Bagwell. As he reached for the door handle, Page shouted for him.

"Marc!" Said Page. Bagwell turned around. "Why did you pick up the paper. Why didn't you just throw it in the trash?" All eyes of the consortium were fixed on Bagwell, waiting to hear his answer.

"I like to do crafts with my mom." Said Bagwell, closing the door behind him.

The guys laughed and then turned to Steve. He was sat in his chair, staring into the blank screen on his laptop.

"It's not him." Said Steve.

"No shit." Said Luger. "He's not got the brains to do something like that."

"He's all muscle and no brains but that's what the girls like." Said Booker, fist bumping Page and being left to hang by Randy. They laughed, but again Steve was in deep thought.

"No. It's not that." Said Steve. "If it was Marc, some things do not add up."

"Like what?" Asked Randy.

"First, if it was him, why would he save the paper? He'd get stuck in here with us like he did. Second, did you notice he was holding the ice pack with his left hand?" Steve looked at them, but they returned blank faces. Steve picked up the envelope (that the bogus script came in) from his desk. "This…" he said pointing at the name written on the envelope, "was written with a fountain pen. Left handed people hate fountain pens because…"

"They end up smudging the writing." Said Booker.

"Exactly! Did you see any ink on the side of Marc's hand?"

"No, but couldn't he have washed it off?" Asked Luger.

"Ink, no matter how hard you try to wash it, will still leave a stain on skin. So even if Marc admitted it was him, the facts prove otherwise."

"Ok, Sherlock. If it isn't him, then who is it?" Asked Randy.

"That I don't know yet." Replied Sting. "But we'll find out soon. But tonight, we've got a show to finish.".

"Here we go, Tony. This is the main event everyone has been waiting for. Jeff Jarrett versus Sid Vicious, for the WCW World Heavyweight Championship!" Said Tenay.

"That's right. You've got the chosen one, Jeff Jarrett, who has defeated Vicious three times already. But this time he is going to beat him and leave that ring wearing the heavyweight title around his waste." Said Schiavone.

The iconic voice over of "N.W.O" ushered in the rock music for Jeff Jarrett. The spotlights pointed to the curtains, awaiting his entrance.

"You're right. Jarrett has won over Vicious three times before but by means that are not expected from the US Heavyweight Champion." Said Sting. "I'll be impressed when Jarrett will go toe-to-toe with Vicious without his goons and that damn guitar.".

He walked down the ramp, unsurprisingly with his guitar in hand, the nWo logo emblazoned on the back of it. Three women, known as the nWo girls, followed Jarrett, dressed in their leather mini skirts and aptly named boob tubes. There was a mix of cheers and boos from the crowd. The guys in the crowd whistling and screaming for the girls while the rest just loathed the entrance of the self-proclaimed chosen one.

"I'm starting to get a little hot under the collar here." Said Schiavone, watching one of the nWo girls bending down on the apron, right in front of the commentators table.

"Will you show some decorum?! Your boss is sat right here!" Replied Tenay.

Jarrett followed behind the girls, his guitar raised in his hand. He climbed on each turnbuckle, the crowd booing every time he did. As the pyrotechnics died down, Jarrett grabbed the mic from the announcer.

"Well, finally the time has come for the chosen one to realise his destiny." Began Jarrett, followed by the loud boos from the crowd. "I said was gonna make Sid's life a living hell for the last two months and I've done that. I said I was gonna knock down any road block WCW put in front of me and I did that. Well tonight I'm proclaiming once again, that I am gonna stroll down that aisle as the US heavyweight champ, and stroll back down that aisle the new WCW World Heavyweight champion." More boos ensued as Jarrett continued his piece. "But WCW has tried to screw the chosen one time and time again. Well tonight, I've got one up my sleeve. They may have one up theirs but I've got one up mine."

"What did I tell you?" Said Sting.

"So you people of American Airlines Arena. You wanna see some skin tonight?" Shouted Jarrett. All of a sudden the crowd erupted in cheers at the prospect.

"YES!" Replied Schiavone.

"The nWo girls got it and they wanna flaunt it. So you wanna see it?" Said Jarrett, The cheers even louder this time.

"It is uncensored! Turn 'em loose!" Shouted Schiavone.

"Will you calm the hell down!" Said Tenay.

"Not until I bring home the gold." The excited crowd turned angry. "So girls, after I pin Sid 1…2… 3, hop on up to the ring and we've got a show to put on."

That is when Sid Vicious's theme blared from the American Airlines Arena speakers, the ring announcer introducing the WCW World Heavyweight champion to the cheering crowd. A barrage of pyro shooting behind him, glinting of the gold around his waist. The crowd leant over the barriers with their arms outstretched, and Vicious walked down the aisle, giving each hand a high-five.

As soon as Vicious slid under the ropes he jumped to his feet with his arms raised high, but before he could take in the cheers from the crowd, Jarrett took a cheap shot from behind. Jarrett and Vicious had started trading blows as the bell rang.

"The hatred these two individuals have for each other is palpable. Neither one of them wants to give in." Said Tenay.

"Can you blame them? It must be humiliating for Sid to get beaten by a younger, smarter and stronger man." Said Schiavone.

"Jeff with an elbow to the back of Sid's head." Said Sting. "An Irish whip… a reversal… and Sid throws Jeff over the top rope!"

It didn't take long for their bout to be taken outside the ring. Vicious dominating Jarrett.

"It looks like they're heading our way." Said Tenay. Jarrett took a forearm to the back before being hauled over Vicious' shoulder.

"Oh no! He's not…" a loud thud echoed in the arena with the cheering crowd as Jarrett was dropped on the commentary table.

"This shouldn't even be allowed. Disqualify him, ref!" Said Schiavone.

"Would you want to stop Sid Vicious right now?" Replied Sting.

Vicious took Jarrett by the head and threw him over the barrier.

"They're taking this into the crowd. There are no mats to protect them, ladies and gentleman. Just pure, solid concrete." Said Tenay.

"Now this isn't a good move by Sid." Said Schiavone. "Sid should keep it in the ring and finish it quick. Jarrett has got resilience and good cardio. The longer it goes on, the more likely Jarrett will fight back and become the next champion."

"I don't recall any no DQ or no count-outs stipulations. Of course this is uncensored, but the referee is outside with them." Replied Tenay.

"This is where our officials do a great job. They know this is a world title match. They know the people want to see a clean finish." Said Sting.

By this point, Vicious had beaten Jarrett through the crowds, returning to the top of the aisle.

"Jeff is on the barriers. Sid sending punches to the head and… Jeff is holding on to the official for dear life. Like a human shield and…" Tenay stops "What is this? It's… it's the Harris brothers! They're attacking Sid but the ref can't see this."

"This is genius! This must be the ace up his sleeve!" Shouts Schiavone.

The Harris brothers drag Vicious to the ring, giving him a beating as they do. But before the referee could see them interfere, they slide out of the ring, leaving Vicious lying in the middle of the ring. Jarrett returns to the ring with the advantage he wanted.

"Jarrett couldn't power over Vicious so he gets his goons to help him." Said Sting.

"Jeff stomps mud holes into Vicious and the crowd does not like it." Said Tenay, the crowd booing louder than before.

"But it looks like Sid is getting to his feet. Wait! Jeff Jarrett has put a sleeper hold on Sid! He's climbed the 6 foot 10 mammoth and put on a sleeper hold. The fact he's on his feet is remarkable…" Before Sting could finish, Vicious fell to his knees.

"So much for that." Replied Schiavone.

Sid began to lose consciousness. The referee raised Sid's hand once… it fell to his side. He raised it again and it fell to his side once again. But on the third time instead of falling, his arm stayed raised up, Vicious' finger pointing up in defiance.

"It's not over yet!" Said Tenay.

Sid sent elbows into Jarretts gut and fought back. He was turning the tide of the match. But before he was dominating once again, Jarrett poked Vicious in the eyes. This is when one of the nWo girls, climbed on the apron and pulled the official towards her, screaming and shouting to keep him distracted. Another nWo girl slid Jarrett's guitar into the ring.

"Here it comes!" Said Schiavone. "We're going to have a new WCW World Heavyweight champion!"

Jarrett raised his guitar over his head, waiting for prone Vicious to get up from his knees and turn around. As Vicious turned, Jarrett pulled back his guitar but as his arms fell down, Vicious grabbed a hold of the guitar. The crowd screamed. Jarrett's face aghast.

"Oh no! Vicious stops the blow!" Screamed Tenay.

Vicious sent a kick into Jarrett's gut, releasing his grip on the weapon. Vicious pulled back the guitar and smashed it over Jarrett's head. The official turned around after Vicious threw the fret of the guitar outside the ring.

"Jarrett's on the canvas!" Said Schiavone. "Vicious pins Jarrett…"

The whole of the American Airlines Arena and Tenay in commentary counted in sync. "1… 2… 3!"

"Sid Vicious has won! He has won!" Shouted Tenay.

Vicious stood to his feet with his arm being raised by the official. "Here's your winner and still the WCW World…" but before Michael Buffer could finish, the Harris Brothers attacked Vicious once again.

"Oh c'mon!" Exclaimed Tenay, the bell being rang in an effort to stop them. It didn't work. They stomped on Vicious while Jarrett got to his feet. The nWo girls slid a chair into the ring.

"Jarrett's got a steel chair!" Said Tenay. "Somebody stop him!"

Jarrett slammed the chair against the canvas over and over before raising it over his head.

"He's going to end Sid Vicious' career, tonight!" Said Schiavone. "Oh my god!"

That is when darkness fell upon the whole arena. The whole crowd began to cheer and murmur.

"What the hell? This isn't you, Sting, is it?" Asked Schiavone.

The total blackout was a signature of Sting's entrance but he was already on commentary. So who could it?

The lights turned on again and the crowd popped louder than they had all night. The guys on commentary struggled to shout over the crowd as they tried to describe what was in front of them.

"OH MY GOD! Is that…?" Asked Schiavone.

Jarrett was still stood in the ring, holding the chair. But his head was turning side-to-side wondering what had just happened. He looked towards his goons, whose mouths were hanging in shock.

"IT'S GOLDBERG!" Shouted Tenay.

Bill Goldberg was stood behind Jarrett, his hands on his thighs, leaning down and waiting. Jarrett turned around and Goldberg clotheslined him with such force that Jarrett flipped over in the air before crashing down on the canvas.

"GOLDBERG'S BACK! HE'S BACK!" Shouted Sting.

The Harris brothers let go of Vicious and went for Goldberg. As one of the twins raised his arm for a blow, Goldberg threw his lightning fists into his gut over and over before throwing him out of the ring. The other brother tried to attack Goldberg but received a kick to the gut.

"Goldberg has got Patrick Harris over his head! He is not a small man but Goldberg is holding him like he weighs nothing!" Said Sting. "And he's thrown him over the ropes!".

Goldberg turned around and watched Jarrett slowly get to his feet, holding his head.

"He's hunting his prey!" Said Sting.

Jarrett had barely turned around when Goldberg shot like a bullet and speared Jarrett into next week. The crowd was wild. Goldberg jumped back to his feet and roared like the lion he was.

"This capacity crowd is on their feet! They're going crazy for Goldberg!" Shouted Tenay.

Goldberg turns around to Vicious, standing behind him. They stand face-to-face. Both locked in a stare down.

"Uh oh! What's going to happen here?" Said Schiavone. That is when Goldberg grabs Vicious' hand and raises it. The crowd goes wild once again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, what an end to the show and what a night it's been. Thank you for joining us tonight on pay-per-view. This is Mike Tenay, Tony Schiavone and The Stinger saying good night.".