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"YEAAAAAH!"

Joe's sentence would be cut short by the sudden scream that strained the stadium's speaker system, a blood-boiling howl that caused the fans to let out various reactions to the name "Salem Croft" being plastered across the Titantron. Some cheered, some booed, but all were attentive as the man in question strolled out nonchalantly onto the stage, sporting a microphone, a shirt that read "Want my two cents?" with a picture of the Change Jar on the front, and a smug look of self-righteousness.

"Yes, please tell us, Joe." Salem said mockingly, slowly walking down the ramp. He ignored the fans who hollered and reached for him, eyes not leaving the delivery guy standing in the ring as Salem approached like a prowling tiger.

"Tell us what you know, Joe, because what you have to say is of such great importance."

Stepping up the stairs and into the ring, Salem walked up to Joe and stared the man down silently, chest-to-chest with the endearing deliverer. Gesturing to the crowd, Salem's gaze remained locked on Joe as he brought the mic back to his lips.

"These people cheer for you, they're paying their good money to listen to some Domino's driver ramble about Cyrus. So, go on! Obviously the words of someone who delivers breadsticks for a living mean more than those of your next bright star in the WWF:G, so please! Continue!"

Extending his mic to Joe's lips, Salem would immediately retract the instrument and give Joe a condescending glare, as though resentful that he would think to talk from Salem's microphone. Instead, Salem cut Joe off before he could start talking, continuing his one-sided conversation.

"On second thought, how about we test this memory of yours, Joe?" Salem spat, stepping forward to push the man back a couple steps by walking into him, still speaking as he did so.

"You claim that you've been a fan of "The Dream" since Wrestlemania '08, right? Well, how about Wrestlemania '12? Do you remember THAT, Joe?!"

Salem's face was red, almost furious, and his words bled with anger and resentment, spoken through a tensed jaw and gritted teeth. Joe had been backed up to the turnbuckle, a position he maintained worriedly as Salem thrust his spare hand forward, jutting a finger into the man's chest as if commanding him to stay put while he talked. His accusative finger would suddenly ball into a fist, Salem growling in a sudden fit of anger before giving Joe another threatening gesture.

"...Because I remember it quite well, Joe." Salem said, an eerie level of composure to his words as he spoke. "I remember Cyrus, the man I admired for bringing me into the next level of wrestling, for bringing me here...abandoning me in the ring at Wrestlemania. I remember him telling me how I deserved it, how I was just some hack too much beneath his station to make it anywhere...but where's Cyrus now, Joe? Is he here to save you from me? Is he going to come out and protect his loyal fan?!"

Salem's face twisted into a look of bewilderment as Joe outright denounced Salem before the excited masses. With a series of twitches, the young rookie's head would shake and tilt, his spare hand mimicking the act before balling into a fist - Salem biting his bottom lip visibly as a pained hush washed over him, apparently swallowing down the impulse to retaliate. Then, in a burst of action, Salem's right leg would snap out and upward, the young man leaning back from the corner as he sought to knock the microphone from Joe's lips and color from Joe's eyes with a jaw-dropping Superkick.

Salem felt his foot connect with Joe's jaw, knocking the man's eyes into the back of his head while his body collapsed motionless to the canvas, below. A sickening grin twisted across Salem's lips, but his delight was cut short by his noticing of the security guards mobilizing around the ring, looking to subdue Salem before he caused further damage. The fans, however, were left unrestrained - shouting and cheering as they were left in anxious eagerness to await what happened next.

Thinking quickly, Salem hoisted Joe up onto his shoulders, draping the poor, limp figure across his neck like a scarf. With one hand still on the microphone, Salem reached up with his spare hand to wrap an arm around the back of Joe's neck, glaring at the guards before they could enter the ring.

"Not another step!" Salem bellowed, threatening the personnel with the menacing grip he maintained on Joe's neck. "Here's how this is gonna work...you're gonna step aside, and I'm not going to force this poor fella to deliver pizzas in a Hover-Round for the rest of his life! Now, get back!"

With that, Salem started walking slowly towards the corner, looking on with admonishment at the guards while prepared to follow through with his threat at a moment's notice.

Salem's eyes glinted, head snapping towards the ramp as he heard the first couple of notes to Cyrus' theme music. Finally, the focus of his frustration had come out, roused to Joe's rescue out of some desire to save the man or his own reputation. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Salem quickly dropped to the canvas and slid underneath the opposite side of the ring from the ramp, dragging Joe like a rag doll to the outside while the guards were distracted.

Swiftly pulling the man up onto the announcer's table, Salem snatched one of the microphones from the bewildered announcers and spoke directly to the guards and Cyrus midst the diversion Cyrus had unknowingly created for Salem, tossing Joe back onto his shoulders with a proud smirk while Cyrus made for the ring.

"Don't you move, Cyrus..." Salem said, his voice full of condescending tone. The smile that stretched his lips drew attention to how much Salem enjoyed Cyrus' frustration, provoking "The Dream" as he'd intended. "Come any closer, and I'll grant Joe's wish and let him dream permanently."

Salem watched from atop the announcer's table as Cyrus taunted him from the ring, the fans chanting along with the man presently in the ring. Salem laughed a little, looking around at the stands with a smile. It seemed the hostage-taker was amused at his predicament, unfazed by the insults and the security personnel that seemed to surround him at all sides.

"Heh...respect. It's funny you should use that word, Cyrus, since you of all people don't seem to grasp what it means..."

From across Salem's shoulders, Joe the Pizza Guy started to rouse from his momentary lapse from reality. Before the deliveryman could regain consciousness, however, Salem caught notice of his squirming burden. With a firm thump from the microphone, Salem dispatched Joe once again into slumber.

"Quiet, you. I'm talking. Now, then..." Salem said, grumbling at Joe before turning his gaze back to Cyrus, the twisted grin returning to his face. "...As I was saying, Cyrus - you don't know the meaning of the word 'respect'. Rather, you just know what it means to have people know your name, Cyrus. You think that’s respect…but people like you, people like Jed - you’re the very problem with this company.”

Without warning, Salem began shuffling his feet hard against the desk of the announce table, causing the itineraries and announcers’ notes to be torn up beneath his feet. Such an act was only befitting, given the venom that continued to pour from Salem’s pearly fangs.

”See…I was just a kid with talent, Cyrus. A ‘dream’, you could say…a dream of being in the WWF:G, of making a name for myself. And along the way, I met you. Then, at last year’s Wrestlemania, you made a point to embarrass me by abandoning me in the ring during what should’ve been my dream come true. Instead, I’ve just been left with an emptiness since that day…since the day I saw your dreams were only lies.”

His lips tightening, Salem’s face became cold as stone as his eyes bore into Cyrus, the air getting chilled while Salem took a moment to allow the crowd to refute him.

”See, I thought this was a place of rebirth, of change, Cyrus. But actually, it’s just a cess pool of self-promotion, a place where guys like you feed on the aspirations of the younger, stronger crowd. But not just you…Jed, even these other athletes, all of whom claim to know what real pride and passion is. But you know NOTHING!“ Salem bellowed, causing the crowd to go silent for a moment form his sudden outburst. His face had grown five shades of crimson in an instant, and the mood suddenly became more dire.

”You’re a JOKE, Cyrus! And you have all these people duped! You’re a false messiah…promising change, promising to fulfill their dreams, just as you did mine! You send this man to be your voice, your prophet! Well, let me tell you something…I am the savior of this company! I am the one who will redeem these people’s souls! And I’ll do it in blood…so, yes – fall upon me while I strike down your false prophet! I’ve woken up from your dreams, Cyrus! And now…so will he!”

Without warning, Salem would let go of the microphone and hoist Joe above his head as though to drop him flat onto the mat, but would immediately let his victim go…wrapping one arm around Joe’s neck while using the other to grasp the back of Joe’s pants. Dropping back to add his weight to the fall, Salem pulled back on Joe’s jeans to add force enough to drive Joe’s face into the announce table and through it – the construct collapsing beneath the weight of the two combined men as Salem leveled Joe with his finisher, the Guillotine DDT.