DF: Hell of a show tonight, right Josh?

JS: Damn right, Denzel.. and there's still a lot more to come.

[i]A video package flashback airs to the background music of “C.R.E.A.M” by the Wu-Tang Clan.

We hear Paul Jackson talking over images of Tiger Garcia strutting down the ramp to the ring at the special announcement show, Tiger sitting in on a steel chair behind the arena, Tiger smoking by a watercooler break during a workout, Tiger unleashing a shadowbox combo with his nightstick, Tiger running a comb through his hair.

[QUOTE=Paul Jackson]You see…I am not the only man who was kicked to the curb by you people. I am not the only man to be cast aside like a piece of trash and forgotten about…The man who I have brought back to UHW shares in my vision, he shares in my dream…Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome back TREVOR GARCIA!!![/QUOTE]

The video shows one last image.. Tiger drops a cigarette, and stamps it out. Blackout.

[QUTOE=Paul Jackson]It’s so good to have you back, my boy, go, go join your friends![/QUOTE]

Suddenly, “Where My Niggas At" by Cassidy comes on the PA and the lights dim.. strobes go off in the midst of a little white fog. 25 seconds into the song.. BOOM! A flash of red, white, and green pyro set to resemble the Mexican flag, and out walks Tiger Garcia, classic cigarette and nightstick by his side. The fans boo wildly and shout obscenities, but Tiger cockily shrugs it off as he hits a crip walk down the ramp to show off. He slides into the ring and hops to a turnbuckle, profiling for the audience who hates him. Once he's done sucking up the crowd reaction, he sets his nightstick on the mat and throws his still-lit smoke into the crowd, grabbing a mic from a crewmember and calling for the music to stop.

Garcia: “Ayo.. kill the music, kill the music ese. It's good but kill it.. I gotta talk.”

Garcia takes a long deep breath.

Garcia: “QUE PASA, DCU!!! God damn it is good to be back! HAHA!”

DF: One thing's for sure.. these fans haven't forgot about the Tiger.

JS: Yeah, and they're letting him know how much they still hate him!

Garcia: “Ay.. ay ay.. what's the problem, yall? Are you.. sad? Are you.. like confused or something? Or have you still not taken the giant sticks out of your asses?”

Someone throws a can of pop at Garcia. It hits him lightly but surprisingly barely spills.

Garica: “Yo, what the fuck was that, cabron? Oh well.. thanks for the sodapop, pendejo.” He picks up the pop can and takes a drink. He paces around with the pop can in one hand and the mic in the other.

“You see, Paul Jackson didn't bring me back here for no reason boys and girls. Shit like that, is why he brought me back. When there's all sorts of bullshit going on.. the management has to find a way to get the pieces picked back up, that's all good ol PJ wanted to do. He's just sick and tired of ungrateful pricks like you! Yall understand right? Comprendé??”

“We've seen exactly the same kind of shit all over global politics too.. everytime I turn on Telémundo.. like, uh.. Iraq and shit. Look. It's called a regime change. And I'm spearheading this shit, yo. Jackson signs my paychecks, aight? Its not too much to ask.. to just follow the boss's orders, go with the flow baby, get your paycheck. My orders were simple.. yall do your work, do it good, and I don't kick your ass. Regime change, baby. Regime change. I know you guys hate my fucking guts, but the REBIRTH of UHW calls for RADICALISM. No dog and pony show, cabrones. No wishy-washy maricon BS. And for Christ sake (Tiger does the sign of the cross), no outlaw rebel, simple-simon ass, lizard shits running around causing trouble for hard working, dedicated followers of the company like ME! The TIGER!”

The crowd boos furiously.

“That's really all I have to say, cabrones. Take everything you thought UHW was from this point on and shove it up your culo.. because Tiger is back in town. And just to let you know.. I'm sticking around for the rest of the show.”

Tiger points over to the ring announcer Ashley Jackson and gives a wink.

“Aye, dios mio! That goes for you too, mami!”

He drops the mic and the music hits the PA's as he lights up another smoke, grabs his nightstick and heads back up the ramp and behind the curtain.