Post by cyborg878 on Mar 27, 2020 18:03:42 GMT -5
Damon Warrens paces back and forth in his bedroom muttering to himself. On the bed rests Jaime Cortez who yawns as he watches his boyfriend move like a game of pong back and forth. After several minutes of Damon's repeating path Jaime gets up and stands in font of the Nitemare who walks right into him accidentally.
Damon: Fuck sorry!
Jaime: It's okay babe.. but I must ask why are you trying to walk a path straight through the floor....
Damon: I'm just stressed... overthinking..
Jaime: ... yeah I kinda got that.. but why?
Damon sits down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. Jaime joins the blonde and looks curiously into the man's eyes which are usually filled with a self-assured energy, but now seem to be drowning in a pool of uncertainty.
Damon: I'm less that a few days away from my match with Smith now.. and I know I talked a big game in the last promo, but.. especially after our loss to the Enforcers there's this cloud of doubt just hanging over me wherever I go. I don't think I stand a chance... this guy is one of the best there's ever been.
Jaime shakes his head and smiles. He reaches softly for Damon's chin and lightly turns his partner's head to face him.
Jaime: But babe... so are you. There's a reason you're an Architect. You three are THE best in the business. All three of you. Not to mention you can boast a claim that not even Smith or Lex can make at this point... you've never been pinned.
Damon: On a rational level I get that... I understand the facts. My emotional brain though.. it's overwhelming. It's telling me that all of my claims, all of my bravado.. won't be enough to overcome Smith's pure skill.
Jaime: Damon sweetheart I know it's hard, but I'm asking you to not listen to that voice... listen to this one. You are good enough. You are incredibly skilled. You are a cerebral technician.. you pick apart an opponent's mind before they even step in the ring.. you're also the most ruthless and brutal person in APW. You can hold your own against his ring skill, you can match with him on mic skills, but what he lacks... as great as he is... is that pure ruthlessness.. the willingness to win at all costs. That's what you have. You have an edge that he is missing.
Damon: I'll be honest.. I don't know if that edge is really there... I thought I had it walking into our semi final match... and I was shut down.
Jaime: You were screwed out of a win by a crooked ref... that won't be a factor in this match. Irina made this play to ensure you both would focus on each other.. make her regret crossing you. Show the world how ruthless you are.
Damon looks at his hands with great internal conflict seeping out through his eyes. A large part of him feels like a failure; a large part of him feels like he could never be truly ruthless against his friend; and yet another part... another part realizes that Jaime is absolutely correct.
Damon: It doesn't feel right being my typical vicious self against my friend... that was the whole point of the promo I filmed... I have so much respect for the man.
Jaime: And he has respect for you. I genuinely believe he will understand that this isn't about trying to harm him personally, but is just about wanting to reach your ultimate goal. I truly think he won't blame you. And can I just say... it sounds like you're going soft on me...
Jaime leans in flush against Damon's ear, his breath causing goosebumps to travel down Damon's spine from the sensation. In a suggestive and low toned whisper Jaime continues to speak.
Jaime: And you know how much I hate when you're soft...... so I think it's time we get that edge back. I think it's time to go make another family movie... it's been what a month or so now? I think it's time for tape number two.
At the mention of family movies Damon's frown of self doubt spreads into a wicked cheshire cat grin. His head whips around to face Jaime.
Damon: And what did you have in mind?
The scene fades out as the two men discuss their plans for the evening.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The street is silent except for the low roar of a motorcycle as two men pull up to a seedy looking building in the middle of the night. The building has the windows all boarded up, the front door has several locks on the outside. Beside the building is a pitch black alleyway. The men remove their helmets briefly revealing themselves of course as Damon Warrens and his faithful lover Jaime Cortez. Before they go into the alleyway they don their signature masks: Damon the epitome of tragedy, Jaime the personification of comedy. On Damon's back is a holster of sorts which straps a black steel baseball bat to his person. Jaime discreetly holds a camcorder which is already recording. The two look at each other for a moment before Damon nods and they make their way into the pure darkness of the alley.
They wait in the alley for a few minutes by a side door to the building. Suddenly the sound of locks being unlocked behind the door catches their attention. Moments pass and slowly the door creaks open. A skinny pale man steps out. He has a black hoodie and sweats on covering most of his skin. Under the hood his face seems ravaged by stress, most likely from his occupation of choice. The man steps out from the building and nods his head at Damon and Jaime.
Damon: You're Sam yes?
Sam: Yes. So you want the stuff?
Damon nods. Sam reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of cocaine. As he does Damon and Jaime slowly separate to either side of Sam. The dealer looks at both men and starts to realize that he is at a disadvantage. He tries to secretly reach back for the door handle, but Damon sees this and pushes the criminal up against the door. Damon holds his forearm across the man's throat.
Damon: We know the kind of man you are Sam... it's bad enough that you peddle this filth to the masses, but you're worse than that aren't you? You don't just sell to the vulnerable that try to kill their struggles with a fix no..... no you decided to start targeting kids too didn't you? You decided that money was more important than the fact you were providing children with the means to destroy their lives... I'm not a fan of that Sam. And I'm going to make sure that you never ruin another childhood ever again.
Sam's eyes go wide. He breath barely makes it through his windpipe, squeezing past the pressure of Damon's forearm. Before he can react the Nitemare lands a vicious blow to the ribs doubling the dealer over. Jaime chuckles before he adds his own two cents: a kick straight between the legs sending Sam to the concrete ground. Damon reaches to his back and grasps the handle of the cold metal bat. He brings it over his shoulder and swings the instrument of destruction down upon Sam's ribs causing a sickening crack to echo presumably from the breaking of several bones. The wails of the man in pain go unanswered as Damon again brings the weapon to meet bone, this time the man's knee cap. Several strikes later Sam lays breathing, but otherwise motionless on the ground. Blood begins to drip off of his severely bruised face and out from under his clothing. Damon steps back and admires his handy work ad Sam closes the lens on the camera.
They begin to walk away when Jaime's phone goes off. He takes it out of his pocket and swipes to see what the notification is. A link pops up which upon Jaime opening it takes them to a video clip of Smith Jones' recent shoot on Damon. The words "Bitter" and "Hungry" tear into Damon's psyche for a moment. As the video continues an unstoppable fury builds up in the Canadian. Smith's verbal take down reaches its end and by now Damon's anger has spiked to the point of black out aggression. Without any conscious thought Damon stalks back towards Sam dragging the bat behind him. Jaime is unable to stop the scene before him as Damon rains blows against the flesh of their far from innocent victim. After a minute or so of shocked based paralysis Jaime runs over and tears Damon off of the near corpse before them. He drags Damon back towards their motorcycle and stands between Damon and Sam.
Jaime: THAT'S ENOUGH DAMON! ENOUGH!
Damon's breathing is heavy as he fumes over his supposed friends' words, but the sternness in Jaime's voice shocks him back to reality. He regains some semblance of composure as he begins to calm.
Damon: I wanted to face Smith in a battle of respect, two men of equal footing. He DARES to try to degrade me in such a fashion? He DARES to question me? Smith thinks that the Hollywood nonsense he filmed was WAR? I thought Smith Jones was an intelligent man.. but with those words he has sealed his fate. This is no longer about pure competition. THIS IS NOW WAR. And he will be its first casualty.
With the Damon signals for his boyfriend to join him on the vehicle and the two ride off into the night surely to plan the violent dissection of one Smith Jones.
----------------------------------------------------------
Unlike in previous promos of which APW fans may have become accustomed to Damon sits no in a room of pitch black with a sole light, no the Devil Himself sits upon a black thorn covered throne in a pure blood red room. The walls are adorned with various trinkets, presumed to be some sort of mementos from Damon's past. Torn pieces of the British flag are displayed alongside a baseball bat covered in spikes on one wall, meanwhile on another a burnt evening gown with a sash reading "CANADIAN DRAG QUEEN" decorates the scene. Upon the Nitemare's head rests a black crown of thorns. The man in question has a black and red suit and a half face mask which covers his mouth, the mask twisted in the trademark tortured frown that has been a calling card for the Nitemare.
Damon: You know APW... going into this match... I felt a hesitancy.. I felt like it wasn't right to treat a man for whom I had endless respect with the same lack of morality that I typically engage my opponents with. When I pictured how this story would unfold it was a tale of two men with mutually high regard for the other's talents and history.. well APW.... I was wrong. I allowed my hesitancy to ummm take the edge away that generally accompanies me when I step in front of a camera...or between those ropes. That is not an error I plan on continuing.
Damon carefully removes the half mask from his visage. As he reveals his mouth it bears not grin nor a frown. Like his voice his face reads not with the intense emotion displayed on his false mouth, but with a flat regality.
Damon: My dear Smitty... I'll admit your words.. well they sting..and your ego allowed to you stretch the limits of the truth juuuust a bit. You weren't wrong entirely though. The New Era was an anchor holding you down. Yes you tout your championships and your "Promos of the Year" and yet somehow I held you back. Somehow even though you were successful I held you back. I do agree with you the New Era was an anchor.. because once we all went our separate ways...you went on to great things... I went on to greater. I ended undefeated streaks, won every championship I decided to set my sights on.. became the most notable evil to set foot in any company.
Very quick sporadic images flash of Damon's time in Cardinal City Pro Wrestling including his World Championship, Tag Championship, and North American Championship wins.
Damon: You were always the #HEEL Smitty... I became so much worse. After I left your side trivial ideas like Face and Heel...they fell to the wayside. I decided not to become just another #HEEL like Smith Jones.. I became a three time Villain of the Year. I became evil incarnate. I became the Devil Himself. For years you felt safe though from my villainy. You thought because you hid in another company far from me that I could never do the one thing you were always afraid of in our time in the New Era... outshine you. I remember asking you to come play in CCP...and every time there was an excuse. And your defense mechanism you had mentally in place to make you feel safe.. they'll tell you it was because you were too good for CCP... but the truth buried deep in your subconscious.. you know.. you were scared of me. You were scared of the monster that you set free when you turned your back on the ideals of the New Era. And so you hid and you ran for years... until one day you realized you needed me.
Damon puts his fingers together pensively.
Damon: See this was around the time that you found yourself without a world championship around your waist. This was when you realized that Smith Jones just simply wasn't enough anymore.. he needed something more dangerous than Smith Jones could ever be. You needed Damon Warrens. And so you decided to reach out to man you had left in the dust.. a man you felt you had created and outgrown. You needed that man who would do all of the things that you were now too afraid to do anymore. A man with no remorse.. with no qualms about stepping over any and every line of morality if it meant accomplishing your goal. And for the first month or so.. it worked for you. You had me in your corner helping to decimate any threats that could get too near your crown. All was good in the kingdom of Smith Jones until the Unlucky Thirteen all fell. Until every possible threat was dealt with...except the one you knew would endanger you the most.
As Damon continues his voice begins to rise, an inflection of intense aggression taking over.
Damon: When all the dust settled and the most dangerous man in APW's short history stood as your next challenger you feigned happiness. You put on a false face of excitement for the ALL ARCHITECTS MAIN EVENT... but beneath that facade that fear... it came back. The realization that the one man you spent years hiding from... the man you falsely claimed the creation of... you couldn't run any more.
With the end of his statement Damon's voice hits a demonic growl. His eyes blaze with an intensity not yet seen from the Nitemare in APW.
Damon: You say you made me bitter. You say you made me hungry. You didn't. People like Irina did that. People like JAMES BAKER did that. The only thing you've made... is a fatal error. You've allowed the Devil Himself to sit on your shoulder... to guide you down a rabbit hole of #VILLAIN esque life choices. You allowed me to get close... to see your vulnerabilities.. like your son... You allowed me to see where you'd draw the line. You allowed me dear Smitty to see the cracks in your foundation.
Damon stands up and walks towards the camera.
Damon: Smitty... you didn't just let me see you break... you let the whole world watch. See when the Architects formed we promised utter dominance. Since our formation we have combined lost two matches. Do you know what those matches had in common dear Smitty? I didn't take the fall. See last week the entire roster got a glimpse of a weakening monarch. They saw a once proud man who had twice held the greatest prize in the land...despite never earning his chances to do so.. they saw that man outsmarted by a commoner. You aren't the king you used to be Smitty.. but fear not for I am the heir apparent and I promise that when I relieve you of your position to rule with an iron fist.
The Nitemare crouches down by the camera. He grabs a small photograph out of his pocket, but does not show it to the camera. He looks down at it sporting a vile ear to ear smile.
Damon: You know Smitty there's a saying... it's better the Devil you know than the angel you don't... but what happens dear Smitty...when that Devil knows you? Welcome to Hell....
Damon turns the photograph in his hand slowly. When it finally faces the camera it is revealed to be a picture of Smith Jones' fiancee Siobhan McLeod as Damon begins a devilish laugh.
Damon: Jaime.... I do think it apropos that we pay the Queen a visit... don't you?
Damon drops the photograph and for a moment his hand disappears from the camera's frame. Damon stands up and as he does his hand returns to view and with.. a black baseball bat. Damon leaves the red room as the scene fades to black.
Damon: Fuck sorry!
Jaime: It's okay babe.. but I must ask why are you trying to walk a path straight through the floor....
Damon: I'm just stressed... overthinking..
Jaime: ... yeah I kinda got that.. but why?
Damon sits down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. Jaime joins the blonde and looks curiously into the man's eyes which are usually filled with a self-assured energy, but now seem to be drowning in a pool of uncertainty.
Damon: I'm less that a few days away from my match with Smith now.. and I know I talked a big game in the last promo, but.. especially after our loss to the Enforcers there's this cloud of doubt just hanging over me wherever I go. I don't think I stand a chance... this guy is one of the best there's ever been.
Jaime shakes his head and smiles. He reaches softly for Damon's chin and lightly turns his partner's head to face him.
Jaime: But babe... so are you. There's a reason you're an Architect. You three are THE best in the business. All three of you. Not to mention you can boast a claim that not even Smith or Lex can make at this point... you've never been pinned.
Damon: On a rational level I get that... I understand the facts. My emotional brain though.. it's overwhelming. It's telling me that all of my claims, all of my bravado.. won't be enough to overcome Smith's pure skill.
Jaime: Damon sweetheart I know it's hard, but I'm asking you to not listen to that voice... listen to this one. You are good enough. You are incredibly skilled. You are a cerebral technician.. you pick apart an opponent's mind before they even step in the ring.. you're also the most ruthless and brutal person in APW. You can hold your own against his ring skill, you can match with him on mic skills, but what he lacks... as great as he is... is that pure ruthlessness.. the willingness to win at all costs. That's what you have. You have an edge that he is missing.
Damon: I'll be honest.. I don't know if that edge is really there... I thought I had it walking into our semi final match... and I was shut down.
Jaime: You were screwed out of a win by a crooked ref... that won't be a factor in this match. Irina made this play to ensure you both would focus on each other.. make her regret crossing you. Show the world how ruthless you are.
Damon looks at his hands with great internal conflict seeping out through his eyes. A large part of him feels like a failure; a large part of him feels like he could never be truly ruthless against his friend; and yet another part... another part realizes that Jaime is absolutely correct.
Damon: It doesn't feel right being my typical vicious self against my friend... that was the whole point of the promo I filmed... I have so much respect for the man.
Jaime: And he has respect for you. I genuinely believe he will understand that this isn't about trying to harm him personally, but is just about wanting to reach your ultimate goal. I truly think he won't blame you. And can I just say... it sounds like you're going soft on me...
Jaime leans in flush against Damon's ear, his breath causing goosebumps to travel down Damon's spine from the sensation. In a suggestive and low toned whisper Jaime continues to speak.
Jaime: And you know how much I hate when you're soft...... so I think it's time we get that edge back. I think it's time to go make another family movie... it's been what a month or so now? I think it's time for tape number two.
At the mention of family movies Damon's frown of self doubt spreads into a wicked cheshire cat grin. His head whips around to face Jaime.
Damon: And what did you have in mind?
The scene fades out as the two men discuss their plans for the evening.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The street is silent except for the low roar of a motorcycle as two men pull up to a seedy looking building in the middle of the night. The building has the windows all boarded up, the front door has several locks on the outside. Beside the building is a pitch black alleyway. The men remove their helmets briefly revealing themselves of course as Damon Warrens and his faithful lover Jaime Cortez. Before they go into the alleyway they don their signature masks: Damon the epitome of tragedy, Jaime the personification of comedy. On Damon's back is a holster of sorts which straps a black steel baseball bat to his person. Jaime discreetly holds a camcorder which is already recording. The two look at each other for a moment before Damon nods and they make their way into the pure darkness of the alley.
They wait in the alley for a few minutes by a side door to the building. Suddenly the sound of locks being unlocked behind the door catches their attention. Moments pass and slowly the door creaks open. A skinny pale man steps out. He has a black hoodie and sweats on covering most of his skin. Under the hood his face seems ravaged by stress, most likely from his occupation of choice. The man steps out from the building and nods his head at Damon and Jaime.
Damon: You're Sam yes?
Sam: Yes. So you want the stuff?
Damon nods. Sam reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of cocaine. As he does Damon and Jaime slowly separate to either side of Sam. The dealer looks at both men and starts to realize that he is at a disadvantage. He tries to secretly reach back for the door handle, but Damon sees this and pushes the criminal up against the door. Damon holds his forearm across the man's throat.
Damon: We know the kind of man you are Sam... it's bad enough that you peddle this filth to the masses, but you're worse than that aren't you? You don't just sell to the vulnerable that try to kill their struggles with a fix no..... no you decided to start targeting kids too didn't you? You decided that money was more important than the fact you were providing children with the means to destroy their lives... I'm not a fan of that Sam. And I'm going to make sure that you never ruin another childhood ever again.
Sam's eyes go wide. He breath barely makes it through his windpipe, squeezing past the pressure of Damon's forearm. Before he can react the Nitemare lands a vicious blow to the ribs doubling the dealer over. Jaime chuckles before he adds his own two cents: a kick straight between the legs sending Sam to the concrete ground. Damon reaches to his back and grasps the handle of the cold metal bat. He brings it over his shoulder and swings the instrument of destruction down upon Sam's ribs causing a sickening crack to echo presumably from the breaking of several bones. The wails of the man in pain go unanswered as Damon again brings the weapon to meet bone, this time the man's knee cap. Several strikes later Sam lays breathing, but otherwise motionless on the ground. Blood begins to drip off of his severely bruised face and out from under his clothing. Damon steps back and admires his handy work ad Sam closes the lens on the camera.
They begin to walk away when Jaime's phone goes off. He takes it out of his pocket and swipes to see what the notification is. A link pops up which upon Jaime opening it takes them to a video clip of Smith Jones' recent shoot on Damon. The words "Bitter" and "Hungry" tear into Damon's psyche for a moment. As the video continues an unstoppable fury builds up in the Canadian. Smith's verbal take down reaches its end and by now Damon's anger has spiked to the point of black out aggression. Without any conscious thought Damon stalks back towards Sam dragging the bat behind him. Jaime is unable to stop the scene before him as Damon rains blows against the flesh of their far from innocent victim. After a minute or so of shocked based paralysis Jaime runs over and tears Damon off of the near corpse before them. He drags Damon back towards their motorcycle and stands between Damon and Sam.
Jaime: THAT'S ENOUGH DAMON! ENOUGH!
Damon's breathing is heavy as he fumes over his supposed friends' words, but the sternness in Jaime's voice shocks him back to reality. He regains some semblance of composure as he begins to calm.
Damon: I wanted to face Smith in a battle of respect, two men of equal footing. He DARES to try to degrade me in such a fashion? He DARES to question me? Smith thinks that the Hollywood nonsense he filmed was WAR? I thought Smith Jones was an intelligent man.. but with those words he has sealed his fate. This is no longer about pure competition. THIS IS NOW WAR. And he will be its first casualty.
With the Damon signals for his boyfriend to join him on the vehicle and the two ride off into the night surely to plan the violent dissection of one Smith Jones.
----------------------------------------------------------
Unlike in previous promos of which APW fans may have become accustomed to Damon sits no in a room of pitch black with a sole light, no the Devil Himself sits upon a black thorn covered throne in a pure blood red room. The walls are adorned with various trinkets, presumed to be some sort of mementos from Damon's past. Torn pieces of the British flag are displayed alongside a baseball bat covered in spikes on one wall, meanwhile on another a burnt evening gown with a sash reading "CANADIAN DRAG QUEEN" decorates the scene. Upon the Nitemare's head rests a black crown of thorns. The man in question has a black and red suit and a half face mask which covers his mouth, the mask twisted in the trademark tortured frown that has been a calling card for the Nitemare.
Damon: You know APW... going into this match... I felt a hesitancy.. I felt like it wasn't right to treat a man for whom I had endless respect with the same lack of morality that I typically engage my opponents with. When I pictured how this story would unfold it was a tale of two men with mutually high regard for the other's talents and history.. well APW.... I was wrong. I allowed my hesitancy to ummm take the edge away that generally accompanies me when I step in front of a camera...or between those ropes. That is not an error I plan on continuing.
Damon carefully removes the half mask from his visage. As he reveals his mouth it bears not grin nor a frown. Like his voice his face reads not with the intense emotion displayed on his false mouth, but with a flat regality.
Damon: My dear Smitty... I'll admit your words.. well they sting..and your ego allowed to you stretch the limits of the truth juuuust a bit. You weren't wrong entirely though. The New Era was an anchor holding you down. Yes you tout your championships and your "Promos of the Year" and yet somehow I held you back. Somehow even though you were successful I held you back. I do agree with you the New Era was an anchor.. because once we all went our separate ways...you went on to great things... I went on to greater. I ended undefeated streaks, won every championship I decided to set my sights on.. became the most notable evil to set foot in any company.
Very quick sporadic images flash of Damon's time in Cardinal City Pro Wrestling including his World Championship, Tag Championship, and North American Championship wins.
Damon: You were always the #HEEL Smitty... I became so much worse. After I left your side trivial ideas like Face and Heel...they fell to the wayside. I decided not to become just another #HEEL like Smith Jones.. I became a three time Villain of the Year. I became evil incarnate. I became the Devil Himself. For years you felt safe though from my villainy. You thought because you hid in another company far from me that I could never do the one thing you were always afraid of in our time in the New Era... outshine you. I remember asking you to come play in CCP...and every time there was an excuse. And your defense mechanism you had mentally in place to make you feel safe.. they'll tell you it was because you were too good for CCP... but the truth buried deep in your subconscious.. you know.. you were scared of me. You were scared of the monster that you set free when you turned your back on the ideals of the New Era. And so you hid and you ran for years... until one day you realized you needed me.
Damon puts his fingers together pensively.
Damon: See this was around the time that you found yourself without a world championship around your waist. This was when you realized that Smith Jones just simply wasn't enough anymore.. he needed something more dangerous than Smith Jones could ever be. You needed Damon Warrens. And so you decided to reach out to man you had left in the dust.. a man you felt you had created and outgrown. You needed that man who would do all of the things that you were now too afraid to do anymore. A man with no remorse.. with no qualms about stepping over any and every line of morality if it meant accomplishing your goal. And for the first month or so.. it worked for you. You had me in your corner helping to decimate any threats that could get too near your crown. All was good in the kingdom of Smith Jones until the Unlucky Thirteen all fell. Until every possible threat was dealt with...except the one you knew would endanger you the most.
As Damon continues his voice begins to rise, an inflection of intense aggression taking over.
Damon: When all the dust settled and the most dangerous man in APW's short history stood as your next challenger you feigned happiness. You put on a false face of excitement for the ALL ARCHITECTS MAIN EVENT... but beneath that facade that fear... it came back. The realization that the one man you spent years hiding from... the man you falsely claimed the creation of... you couldn't run any more.
With the end of his statement Damon's voice hits a demonic growl. His eyes blaze with an intensity not yet seen from the Nitemare in APW.
Damon: You say you made me bitter. You say you made me hungry. You didn't. People like Irina did that. People like JAMES BAKER did that. The only thing you've made... is a fatal error. You've allowed the Devil Himself to sit on your shoulder... to guide you down a rabbit hole of #VILLAIN esque life choices. You allowed me to get close... to see your vulnerabilities.. like your son... You allowed me to see where you'd draw the line. You allowed me dear Smitty to see the cracks in your foundation.
Damon stands up and walks towards the camera.
Damon: Smitty... you didn't just let me see you break... you let the whole world watch. See when the Architects formed we promised utter dominance. Since our formation we have combined lost two matches. Do you know what those matches had in common dear Smitty? I didn't take the fall. See last week the entire roster got a glimpse of a weakening monarch. They saw a once proud man who had twice held the greatest prize in the land...despite never earning his chances to do so.. they saw that man outsmarted by a commoner. You aren't the king you used to be Smitty.. but fear not for I am the heir apparent and I promise that when I relieve you of your position to rule with an iron fist.
The Nitemare crouches down by the camera. He grabs a small photograph out of his pocket, but does not show it to the camera. He looks down at it sporting a vile ear to ear smile.
Damon: You know Smitty there's a saying... it's better the Devil you know than the angel you don't... but what happens dear Smitty...when that Devil knows you? Welcome to Hell....
Damon turns the photograph in his hand slowly. When it finally faces the camera it is revealed to be a picture of Smith Jones' fiancee Siobhan McLeod as Damon begins a devilish laugh.
Damon: Jaime.... I do think it apropos that we pay the Queen a visit... don't you?
Damon drops the photograph and for a moment his hand disappears from the camera's frame. Damon stands up and as he does his hand returns to view and with.. a black baseball bat. Damon leaves the red room as the scene fades to black.
