Ignacio is turning over in his hand a disc he found in the pile.

'I wanted to find out more about you; to at least have some basic understanding of how you work and what I should be prepared for. Sadly, I could find none of your matches on tape. Thus I have been forced to learn about the inner workings of your mind through...'

He holds up the 'Age of the Axe' CD.

'Your artistic expression. Or lack thereof. What I have found common in your work is banality, triteness and mimicry of more successful artists. I saw the same in your match at the last Fusion. All of this leads me to a single important conclusion about Aaron Axl: you are much more deserving of the title 'Hollow' than I.

'When I made the transition from Apex to Hollow, it was to signify what I had lost. My 'grand crusades' and my steroid use had gradually worn away at the fiber and contents of my being until I could feel nothing left. I had sold my soul in order to buy a great emptiness. Thus am I Hollow.

'You, on the other hand, never had substance to begin with. Your life's work is the pursuit of hedonism. You want only to consume, and not to actually accomplish anything through your efforts other than to fatten your bank account and draw more loose women to your side. The earth will be poorer for your having existed simply because your legacy will be your own refuse. And I include your music in that category.'

Ignacio tosses 'Ages of the Axe' down beside a copy of 'The Very Best of Menudo'.

'Sadly, your mind has no ability to understand how hopelessly outmatched you are against me. No matter; it will not take a great intellect to register the pain I will put you through.'

Fade to black.