Before the next match of IWT's VICE begins, the titantron opens to an empty penthouse located in Las Vegas, Nevada. Sterling white decor coats the house, almost picturesque from an ancient Greek palace. It's night time, and all the lights are on. Making the view of how it overlooks the city visible, everything so grandiose. But no one is seen, all of the TVs are off, no music is playing. It seems completely empty, so empty you could probably scream and hear an echo. Then all of a sudden the sound of a sink being turned on is heard, and the camera guy follows the noise. He goes to a bathroom down the hall, with the door ajar. In it Jack is washing blood from the side of his cheek, a scar seemingly reopened. And his left arm is still in a sling. Forté finishes up and nods to the camera guy, acknowledging that he's being filmed live. He exits the bathroom and signals for the camera guy to follow him to the balcony, admiring the view. Las Vegas, Nevada. The city of sin. I'm clearly not from here, as you could probably tell from my accent. No, I chose to reside here. Why might you ask? It's simple, it is the closest thing that embodies the IWT outside of the company. Man and women alike flock here, hoping that their lives will change overnight. They gamble, they take risks, they break the rules. All for different means, whether it be for money, for their pleasure, or simply to get ahead in life. One night can change everything for these people, that's all they need. And while the same could always apply to the IWT, it is more true now than ever. For the past few months a new wave of talent have entered this company, and they're all looking for their one night. Not only that, but quite a few of them are looking to do that by going against myself. Almost like I'm the belle of the ball, and I can see why. My Intercontinental Title does have a certain appeal to it, not to mention the person who takes it from me also gets to hand me my first loss since breaking in almost a year ago. But to do so, you need to have the right reasons, the right intent. If it's the bigger paychecks you're after, that won't do. Success isn't measured in the amount of money you make, it's how far your name carries. If it's for the pleasure, that still won't be enough. Inflicting pain is one thing, but taking it, thriving off of it, and working with it is what you truly need. And if you're looking to get ahead, well that's honestly the worst reason out of them all. Because make no mistake about it, no matter how many belts Michael implements, and no matter how many of them have the word world in their title, they're still not the title. MY title. I am not a gatekeeper, just because I've been here longer than a couple of months doesn't make me veteran who hands over the keys. I am what lies behind the gates, because as long as I hold the Intercontinental Title it is THE one thing you need to strive towards. Scott Fargo, Bishop. Two men who are standing at the gates, both waiting for their one night to enter them and take what is mine. And even though Fargo gets his chance first, Bishop will still get his. But know this, you won't be gambling for money, or titles, it'll be for our lives. And I play to win. Scene fades.