As the arena fades in from the commercial break, Jimmy Monera is shown standing in the ring, with his wife Nathalie standing not too far off behind him. They're both wearing their street clothes, rather than their flashier entrance attire. There's a steel chair set up in the middle of the ring, but other than that, they're all alone.

"My friends, I asked you all to wait patiently for our show, and I'm honored that you've agreed to do so. Whether or not you watched my match earlier is unimportant... What IS important is the message that I've prepared for you all. But for one of you in particular.
See, it took me a while to realize this, but a grave misunderstanding has occurred within the walls of this establishment. A misunderstanding that has irreversibly cost Lester Cryden his job. See, when he said that he caught Nathalie and I in a hotel room, shooting up drugs, he wasn't lying. He just... Didn't know what he saw. And if he'd simply asked me about it, like an adult, we could have talked it over, and I could have explained to him what was really going on. But unfortunately for him... For all of us really... That's not how things went down. So let me take this chance to clear the air."

Jimmy reaches into the pocket of his coat, and after a while, produces a small ziplock bag that has some mysterious white powder in it. Seeing it, the commentators start to argue amongst themselves in disbelief.

"Despite what my unfortunate former partner may have believed, this substance is not a drug. People may say otherwise, but that is because they don't have the pure, unrestrained faith that would otherwise see them through to the truth. This is a miracle. It is a substance that God himself bestowed upon us, so that the truly righteous could ascend to the territory of the angels. To converse with them, to laugh with them, to experience every possible joy that the great white beyond has to offer... After all, why else would they call it Angel Dust?"

The usual jeers of the audience have turned into cries of absolute disgust, as dozens of parents start leading their children out of the arena. Up near the catwalk, several backstage officials start to gather, cautiously waiting for some hint that they should intervene in this.

"Clearly, you don't believe me. Well, as the faithless often say, 'seeing is believing.' And so, my lovely wife has generously offered to give you a demonstration of the absolute tranquility that this substance can give you. "Sit back, my friends, and enjoy the show."

Nathalie sits down on the steel chair, and produces a small straw from her pocket. The WWF officials begin their walk down the ramp, as Jimmy pours a small pile into his hand. The two of them share a quick kiss, and then she sticks her straw into the pile. She inhales deeply, just as a few of the officials manage to enter the ring, but before they can get to her, her body begins to shake, and the straw falls out of her hand.

"Nat?" Jimmy asks, grabbing her shoulders, forgetting about the powder still in his hand. "This hasn't happened before..."

"She had too much," a referee barks at him, as he budges in front of her, and stuffs a rag in her mouth to keep her from biting her tongue. By this time, she's convulsing so hard that they can't even keep her in her chair.

"Nathalie? Nathalie?!" Jimmy screams, panicking, as an official grabs him by the shoulders and drags him away from her.

It takes two security guards to restrain Jimmy, as a team of EMT's are called down to the ring with a stretcher. And with that, Jimmy's segment goes off the air.