The soothing sounds of the Fox News Channel are piped throughout Keith's private gym, various Plasma TV's strategically placed in front of select exercise equipment displaying The #1 Cable News Channel in the world. Yeah, cheap plug, but Keith really likes Fox News.

Chugging away at an elliptical machine, Keith's white Mercury Fusion shirt soaked in sweat, his red hair caked along the side of his face.

'Honestly, you guys make it sound like I've been injecting straight sugar into my ass like steroids. I've been on a steady diet of red meat. That's about it. The famed Keystone Light SLASH Cheeto diet that Dean dropped, well, I'm saving that one for retirement.'

'You guys are making a mistake if you think the time I spent resting and healing up makes me soft. I don't need rippling pecs, chiseled abs, or huge traps. The only thing I need is the passion I have for wrestling, and the drive to be the greatest wrestler on the face of this earth. Dean, Messiah, if either of you come into this bout thinking I lost one step in my game, you're going to wind up looking like fools. Give me the chance to take you to school and David Flair will look like Ric Flair, circa-89.'

Keith steps it up a notch on the elliptical.

'My life has been a lesson in perseverance. I'm a self-taught wrestling dynamo, and I didn't master my craft by paying others to teach me in a school in between back-bump drills. I took all the bumps, all the bruises, all the cuts, all the losses, and I took everything my opponents threw at me and soaked it up. I absorbed it. The hells I've been through to become what I am today drives me to succeed. I accept nothing less, and go until the proverbial car either runs out of gas, or it simply gets obliterated in the biggest wreck of all time. To give anything less than your best in EVERY match you ever compete in is to ridicule the greatest sport known to man, Professional wrestling.'

'I accomplished more and went through more in four years than most men do in a lifetime. I was spent, that is no lie. Picasso, yeah....he bettered me a couple times. Vincent Picasso faced a Keith Summers that was beyond the red-line. The Keith Summers of 2003/2004 was a shell of his former self. While the man that sits here today doesn't have a Muscle and Fitness body, he doesn't need to. The man sitting here today has more heart than nearly all the men on this roster, only a select few excluded.'

'Mock the ten pounds I put on over the past few years, I dare you. Dean, Messiah, I'm done wasting my time with lengthy diatribes about the men I'm soon to face, using all my free time to mock them and ridicule them. If that's your bag, cute. Great. Honestly, though, the Kid Krazy jokes were funny three years ago. You could start using some Pariah material, that'd be fresh.'

The session on the elliptical comes to an end. With sweat flowing freely from all pores of his body, Keith grabs a jug of water and guzzles away before grabbing a towel and drying himself off.

'The sting of my sweat, the bitter taste it leaves in my mouth, and the hours spent in this gym are nothing. The roar of those people, the ones that believe in us, and cheer us on, makes all this seem insignificant. I'm not here for Keith Summers anymore, I'm here for Mercury and all of it's people. It's time to fight for a greater cause, and to make this thing work again. I've left my legacy, and I've stuck my flag in the ground. Here on out, every punch I throw and every Nausea I drop is for the people. That's something more valuable than any squat, any dumbbell curl, and any push-up I could ever do.'

Stretches begin, Keith taking a seat on a padded mat, focusing on his legs.

'You nancies better be ready to wrestle at Fusion. Now, get the hell out of here.'

The camera pulls back and begins to lower.

Almost.

Keith forgot something. Again. This is beginning to become routine.

'Dirge, caught the dig. Nice. Don't think this guy isn't showing up to wrestle, or has lost his edge. Even the best need a break every now and then. I mean, a guy can only carry a stable for so long, right?'

A wink from the Las Cruces native closes this joint OUT.