Have fun in your tournament

[The Immortal Arkken]

A very large red Victorian chair is placed in front of a dark burgundy curtain made of velvet. In the chair is leisurely sitting Arkken, a cup of red wine in his hand. He is wearing one of his finest suit inspired by the Tudor dynasty and a small metal rose is pinned to his chest.

Immacolata is standing beside the chair, but not wearing her usual wrestling attire. Instead, she is garbed as a prince, but cannot be mistaken for one for her long dark hair and her natural beauty. She is also holding a cup, but she looks bored.

Arkken: Severus, I have to congratulate you on two counts, now that the first round of the tournament is passed. Firstly, bravo on your victory against Gentry. I expected more from him, but, alas...

He shrugs slowly, not seeming to mind too much.

Arkken: Secondly, nice victory against my dear offspring. I also expected more from her...

He gives her a wrathful look, but she continues to look in another direction.

Arkken: Your success knows no bound. Indeed, you might be headed for the big shiny title you can wrap around your waist. That would be delightful, now wouldn't it?

He smiles, perhaps knowingly.

Arkken: Therefore, I wish you luck with your tournament. The best of luck, to complement your skills, for you are skilled in the ring, and it can make a champion out of you. Do you know, though, what your skills cannot make of you? A Tudor. Do you know what it takes to be a Tudor? Of course you don't, but here, look at us.

At this point, Immacolata looks towards the camera. Arkken sits up and does the same for a few seconds.

Arkken: You need nobility. We both have it without even trying. We were just born regal. You just don't have it. Any of it. You do not deserve to be in the same ring with me. You are below me, and that is the end of it. Plus, you have your hands full already. Have fun.

The wrestler smiles and drinks some wine. Immacolata puts her cup down on a side table and walks away. The screen goes black.