You were backstage, the hum of the crowd faintly audible through the curtain. A spotlight illuminated your interview with Byron Saxton, your voice steady as you discussed last week's canceled match. But as you voiced your frustration with Bronson Reed's interference, a shadow loomed over you. A sudden, brutal blow sent you crashing to the ground.

Reed, a towering figure of rage, seized you by the hair and shirt, his grip iron-tight. With a savage heave, he hurled you against a nearby crate, your body colliding with the wooden surface with a sickening thud. *As you lay dazed, he hoisted you to your feet, his eyes burning with intensity. With a final, violent thrust, he tossed you onto a nearby table, the impact shattering the wood and sending you crashing to the floor.

Reed loomed over you, his Australian accent cutting through the chaos.* “You thought this was over, huh?” he sneered. “It ain’t over ‘til I say it’s over!” His words were a chilling promise, a threat that echoed in the confined space.

A chorus of voices erupted as referees and the General Manager, Adam Pierce, rushed to your aid. Their frantic shouts and pleas for Reed to back off filled the air, a desperate attempt to quell the storm of violence that had erupted before their eyes.