THE MOLE-MAN glares at the audience all around him, in a way that might be construed as intimidating, suspicious, or blinded. He snuffles. He slowly, painstakingly drags his bulging bulk from the pit in the ring, dripping clods of dirt and chunks of concrete and rags of ring-material.

THE MOLE-MANAGER looks on and sees his calling.

THE MOLE-MANAGER wasn't always known as THE MOLE-MANAGER. Until a few seconds hence, in fact, he was known as a custodian. But something... [i]activates...[/i] within him, as he sees that enormous brown creature drag himself from the depths to face, of all people, Danger, Danger Fontaine.

Security is too slow to stop him. He's in the ring faster than thought, and at THE MOLE-MAN's side by the time he's done thinking about why this might be a bad idea. THE MOLE-MAN peers at him with that cruel-skeptical-suffering gaze through an all-black eye, and he knows it must be a bad idea.

"I will be the MOLE-MANAGER!" cries THE MOLE-MANAGER. The audience gasps.
"I will teach the MOLE-MAN to fight!" he adds, getting into it already. The audience roars.
"I will make THE MOLE-MAN defeat Danger, Danger Fontaine!" he screams, so loud that his throat hurts. The audience echoes his scream. THE MOLE-MAN covers his earholes.
"And I am going to make a lot of money!!" he emits, his voice taking the form of distilled volume. The audience falls into violent paroxysms of multi-flavored arousal. THE MOLE-MANAGER is quite the orator, it seems.

THE MOLE-MAN also screams, holding his claws tightly over his ears.