MICHAEL COLE: “Maxx… Maxx Payne… may I have a few minutes.”

MAXX PAYNE: “Cole, right now, I’m not in the mood. So what I want you to do is give me that microphone of yours, stand there and listen.”

{As Maxx says this, he snatches the microphone from Michael Cole, and stares straight into the camera with his cold, dead, black eyes.}

MAXX PAYNE: “Baltimore Assassin, you have just learned first hand not to mess with the power of Maxx Payne. I am no longer here to play games Assassin. Playtime is officially over. From now on, I am prepared to cause real damage in the Net World Order. Baltimore Assassin, all that May Maylay was, was a wake up call. You have awakened a sleeping beast. A bloodthirsty beast bent on anger and revenge, which will let nothing stand in his way.

Baltimore Assassin, this game has only begun. You may have won the battle, but there is no chance in Hell of you winning the war. The fact is, now that I am the number one contender for that belt around your waist, I am ready, and will take pleasure in taking it back to where it belongs.

You brag about how you have more weight than I do. You brag about your height advantage over me. Baltimore Assassin, everybody knows that the bigger they come, the harder they fall. Nothing will be closer to the truth when you and me square off. Then, you go off about how you are younger than I am, and that you have the youth alongside you. That may be a fact, but the truth is that this gives me the advantage. I have seen more than you have, and I am prepared for what is about to occur. Finally, you have bragging rights for beating me on Sunday. But the next time we meet, Assassin, you won’t have anywhere to run for a breather. You won’t have anyone… namely Shane Douglas to save your ass. No, when we meet for the United States belt, it will be you and me... one on one. No running, no hiding, just me taking your ass out for a good ten to twenty minutes.

Assassin, I cannot hide it any longer. I know the when and what when it will come to my rematch against you. Friday, June 9th, one week from today. I Maxx Payne, challenge you, The Baltimore Assassin to the truest definition of Hell in a Cell. Twenty feet in the air, a steel cage will border the ring. Inside the ring will be any weapons you or I feel necessary to bring. I know one item that I plan on packing as soon as this interview is over.”

{Maxx Payne holds up the barbed wired baseball bat as he says this.}

MAXX PAYNE: “So Assassin, you can keep your height, your weight, your age, and your partners. Leave it all in the back, because this is just me sacrificing you in the middle of the ring. For the United States Championship, one week from today, it will be a Hell in the Cell to remember. But be warned, Assassin, this time around I am not here to fuck around. I am serious, and I am seriously going to provide a large dosage of pain. That, Baltimore Assassin… Michael Cole… Net World Order… people around the world… that is a promise.”

{Maxx Payne then suddenly tosses the microphone slightly up, as Michael Cole fumbles around to catch it. As Maxx Payne shuts his locker room door, the microphone falls to the ground. Cole quickly picks it up and speaks.}