OOC: As you can guess, I'm too damn lazy to roleplay for this guy. But what else would expect from him? My apologies to everyone who bothered reading this, expecting something big and extravagent...
(We fade into a small set-up studio... looks like some guy's garage with a GXW banner hung on the wall by safety pins. At least the lighting is alright. In a simple wooden chair sits Clapper, sporting the usual, wearing the usual, and smoking the usual.)
"Maybe at least two or three people in the world have wondered where I've been the past week... why I've been living under a rock for such a long time. Well, if you knew me in any way, you'd know that I personally don't CARE to make these televised appearances. Waste of time, in my opinion... especially if I have to talk about some piece of trash named Devon Sands."
"Actually, it's been a busy time for me. I've been trying to get a few would-be clients on the phone. Seems they're pretty busy themselves. As it stands, Clapper's services are still vacant... leaving me as a free agent for anyone..."
"You guys remember the number, right? 1-800-CLAPPER. Pay me to take care of the thorns in your side..."
(The usual uncaring, uninterested shrug.)
"Since I'm relatively open after an absolutely flawless against my LAST opponent, Jay, uh... whatever his name was, it seems I have to prove myself yet again. So... guys with lots of money?"
"Watch as I take on Devon Sands, and break him in half. Watch as I destroy him there in the ring without breaking a sweat. Watch me in action... your future agent of destruction. I'm the guy who will end all nusciances in GXW, and make this a well segregated place where the talent stays in the top, and the jobbers stay as jobbers..."
"You all have a nice day."
Ryan - Ian, how do I get to the morgue?
Ian - Just drive away from the YMCA.