Nick Starr

Starr's words hang in the air, the challenge that he set forth still energizing the crowd. For a few moments, nothing happens. The fans begin to stir, a buzz beginning to fill the room as they question whether or not Angel is even going to appear. Nick paces back and forth, waving his hand toward the stage and yelling for Brett to come out.

Suddenly, there's a surge of movement in the arena, shocking gasps escaping from the mouths of fans as thousands of heads snap towards the same place at the ringside barricade, their eyes locking on to the man standing there: Ringo Maxx.

Starr turns and locks eyes with Ringo Maxx, realization and understanding filling his expression with even more rage. Maxx retorts the look with a simple, smug smile, wiggling his fingers in a condescending wave.

Ringo hops the barricade with ease, his denim and leather jacket billowing around his torso and over his trademark black pants. Locked in place, Starr can only watch as Maxx grabs a microphone from a ringside technician and slowly climbs the steel steps, his cool expression never leaving his face. As he ducks into the ring, Ringo takes a step back, leaning confidently against the ropes as he speaks his first words in a CMV arena in many months.

Ringo Maxx
"If I told you why I did what I did, would you even listen? Would you care to understand why I have once more graced these ropes at all? Or do you just want to tear into my throat right now and give these fans the bloodbath they expect?"

Taking their cue, the crowd erupts into indiscernible chants, each selecting their own gladiator in the impending fight. Starr's nostrils flare, but Ringo wags a finger back in forth, shaking his head no.

Ringo Maxx
"In due time, friends, in due time. But I will tell you, Nicky, I will tell you why I didn't allow you to walk out to that arena and stake your claim as a champion once more. It wasn't jealousy, or anger, or even the cowardice that you so casually toss around... No, Nick, it's disappointment. Disappointment in you and the mockery that you have made yourself out to be. You see, friend, you remind me of what I once was: a glorified fool strutting around these ropes with all the glitz and glamour that this business could muster up. The Naughty Guy, they called me, dressed to the nines in exotic patterns, appearing like some hysteric, flamboyant peacock. And do you know where that got me, Nick? Do you know where that got me?"

Ringo Maxx licks his lips, the microphone in his hand swaying back and forth as he speaks. He takes a few steps forward, his expression softening as he speaks in an almost hushed tone.

Ringo Maxx
"Nowhere, Nicky, it got me nowhere. I was a joke, and everyone knew it. But you know what I did? You know how I solved that problem? Rage. Anger. I drew up every vile feeling I had in my soul and I allowed it to absorb the man you once knew. That's how I became the man that stands before you today, the man that picked you apart backstage and stole away your hopes of glory. The Austrian Death Machine."

Maxx grins, going nose to nose with Starr as they meet in the middle of the ring, clanging heads against one another. Once more Ringo Maxx raises the microphone to his lips, and with a chuckle, asks a question.

Ringo Maxx
"So how do you feel, Nicky?"

And with that, Starr shoves him away, and in return gets a clubbing blow from the microphone to his forehead. Maxx jumps on top of him, laying in fists and elbows to every exposed part of Starr's body. They roll over, this time with Starr on the offense, delivering his own barrage of strikes to Ringo. They seperate, each man lurching to their feet, at which time Nick Starr goes for a huge superkick, but Maxx ducks it and delivers a Banshees' Call in the middle of the ring!

Ringo, his smile now returning, quickly slides out of the ring and over the barricade, the only sounds accompanying his exit being the clashing chorus of cheers and jeers from the forever split crowd.