*The arena lights dim as the opening strains of Ghoultown's Return of the Living Dead cue up. Then red lights flare up throughout the CheeseDome as the Imperial March begins. Slowly, the Dark Lords rise up from the floor. Pulling back his hood, Grimm raises a mic.
"I'm not running from anything, Balls. In fact, I've been waiting for you to show up tonight. I've been waiting to get you all to myself. . ." Grimm punches a mime off of the rampway while Darth Sabreslams another.
"Don't be fooled by Darth's appearance here. You see, the Dark Lords are not just another tag team. This alliance serves a higher purpose, one that a lowlife piece of shit like yourself could never hope to understand." *Grimm kicks another mime in the gut and delivers a powerbomb to him.
"Darth's not here to help me. . .he's here to keep me from killing you too quickly. . .the pain I deliver unto you will be your release. . .death by Grimm. . .I am the way to oblivion. . .Abandon all hope. . ." *Grimm tosses the mic at Nasty and spears him as the two go down fighting, while Darth finishes off the last of the mimes at ringside.
