At long last, the bell rang and the announcer spoke through the PA system to declare a no-contest, even though it had most certainly seemed that at least one person had come out ahead in that exchange. At the very least, Sarah was sure to plan contesting that finish. But before medical personnel could approach, the lights would cut out in the arena...plunging the stadium into darkness and stirring the crowd with this sudden development. Though they were excited, the fans were otherwise confused - that was, until the Titantron flickered to life with the words "Salem Croft" in white letters, the only illumination to be seen aside from the stray camera flashes flickering across the stands.
"For weeks now...I've been forced to swallow one humiliation after another." Salem spoke, though he was nowhere to be seen. Rather, his name across the big screen was all they could make out while the rookie growled quietly into the mic from the shadows.
"At 'Personal Problems', I put on a spectacle that might very well go down as this company's most innovative, most entertaining match...I did something no one else here can claim, something no one, anywhere can claim - I beat Freakshow in a Salem Says match. But despite my triumph, Freak couldn't be man enough and take his beating humbly. Instead, he pulls this lawsuit s**t and has terrorized me ever since! But this company doesn't care - they won't lift a finger to stop him from getting his way, from interfering with my matches...he even put a bounty on my head."
Though there was still no sight of Salem to be seen, those near the ring would hear the sounds of stirring from around the apron, quiet knocking and shuffling as though something were being assembled in the dark. Try as they might, however, their eyes only strained to part the shadows, too thick to uncover what was going on within them.
"Well, Freak...Arson...that all ends tonight. I may not be able to attack you outside of a sanctioned match, but since you're too smart or spineless to face me, I'm calling open season on you and your flunkies. Trashing your club was only the first shot...but tonight, I'm showing you what it means to truly come under fire."
With his last words, a plume of flame would rise up near the ring, set lights coming up quickly as those in the AV booth feared a potential electrical fire. Instead, propped up just outside the ring, a table was burning brightly with embers of orange and yellow...standing next to it, none other than Salem Croft. In his hands were his signature jar of change and a microphone. As he spoke into the latter, he began pouring the contents of the former out across the crackling wood, the coins clinking and roasting in the fires he'd started.
"...I hope you're watching, Freak. I hope you see this, Jamie. I hope this teaches you something...that you've done more than just pick a fight. You've started a war, and in war...there ARE NO PRISONERS!"
Throwing the microphone down, Salem reached underneath the bottom rope, taking hold of Sarah's ankle to try dragging her out from the ring. If successful, Salem would let go and allow the woman to fall flat to the arena floor, not looking to spare any mercy for the manager to his most recent loss.
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