As soon as he walked through the curtain, Max Power broke character. 

"This is fucking bullshit."

Agents and producers quickly darted out of his path, as it was clear that Max had a chip on his shoulder. The personnel backstage kept their eyes firmly fixed on the ground, not even daring to look up at the reigning World Champion as he passed. After all of his success and all he had accomplished for Global Pro Wrestling, Max Power carried a certain level of respect. And more importantly a certain level of pull. 

Max stepped into the office of Jack Flanagan, the owner of GPW and a long-time personal friend. Flanagan sat with his back to the doorway, gazing out a window. 

"This is fucking bullshit."

Max waited for Jack's reply but when it did not come he continued, irritated that Flanagan would not even turn around to face him. 

"These people have no fucking respect. After everything I've done in this business they want to treat me like this? It's fucking bullshit. I'm in there with a 7 foot tall Russian, and half the crowd still fucking boos me." 

Another long pause. 

"LOOK AT ME, JACK!"

Flanagan got up from his chair and turned around, a magazine clutched in his hands. He threw it down on the desk, before turning away again to look out the window. On the magazine cover there were two pictures of Max, waving the American flag and holding up the GPW World Title. The first was from 1986, the second was from 1996. The headline read, "OLD GLORY."

Max refused to even touch the magazine an looked down at it with utter contempt. He loathed the dirt sheets, and treated them as though they were as filthy as their moniker. 

"You're right Max," came Jack's reply, "this [i]is[/i] fucking bullshit." 

This time Max was at a loss for words.   

"The sheets are trying to say that you and I are out of touch, that this company is irrelevant, that the business has passed us by. It's fucking bullshit. We're going to prove them wrong, Max."

"What do you mean?"

"We're going back to the Garden," said Jack, turning to face Max once again. 

"New York?"

"You're goddamn right," answered Jack, "Global Pro Wrestling presents [i]Clash of the Titans[/i], live from Madison Square Garden in New York City. Headlined By the GPW World Heavyweight Champion, the greatest World Champion in the history of this business, Max Power. I saw you out there tonight Max, and I know you still have the passion, you still have the heart. I know you have more to offer this business. You just need the [i]right opponent[/i]. With the right opponent, with the proper heel, we can recapture the glory days."

"Who did you have in mind?" said Max. 

"We have a roster full of young guys who want to step up and take that spot across from you. It's time for somebody to step up and grab the [i]brass ring[/i]. At the end of the month, we've got the [i]Battle in Seattle[/i], and the winner of the Battle Royal will get a World Title shot against you at the Garden. That's the angle we're running. So we have until then to decide on who your opponent will ultimately be."

Again Max was at a loss for words. After all that had happened over the last year, with attendance down, with the fans turning on him, with the dirt sheets tearing him apart, Jack Flanagan still believed in him as Champion. He believed he could sell out Madison Square Garden, one last time. 

"We're gonna show them Max. We're gonna show the world. We're gonna show everybody that this company is still worth a damn."