The screen flashes from black, to a moment of static, to the image of The Big Bifford. He stands on a rocky cliff, facing the ocean. Far below him, waves crash loudly against the rocks and the tide continues to rise. Behind him is a huge doorway – perhaps 20 feet high – entirely made of steel. Bifford looks out into the sea, seeing nothing but water and waves for as far as his eyes can see. Nowhere, in the distance, is there an island or any boats – just water for eternity.

Bifford: The other day I watched a brutal man destroy everything that I can remember of my childhood. It all went away in a moment. The house my parents built, the life I lived, the place where my sister died, the place where Loser-rr kidnapped me and Earl and Kenny, and the place where Loser-rr died. Also the place where Earl the Popcorn Salesman was deported back to Jamaica. It was a place that, for better or worse, brought about lots of emotions. It was a place that meant a great deal to me and yet hurt me, all at the same time. Today, when I think of it, all the past memories are gone. All that I see is Plethora the Perilous, running around in his black robe burning the hell out of the place, breaking things and his horrible laughter. I’ll be honest – meeting Plethora made me reexamine for a moment whether or not I wanted to join the Legion of Afley. After all, who would want to join a group that had such a madman in it? Then I realized that it would take a madman like Plethora to end the Catholic Church and destroy it once and for all. It would take a madman like Plethora to bring Arachne back to our side. It would take a man like Plethora to change the minds of all people in the world and bring the world to a state of universal atheism. Plethora is one of only a few who could accomplish these things. I might be able to help with my wit and intelligence, but Plethora could do it with brute force. Together we would be a force to be reckoned with. I must join The Legion of Afley. I must be counted among Those Who Know. I must work to destroy the Catholic Church…

Bifford looks down and sees a huge wave hit against the rocks and then disappear.

Bifford: I’m a lot like that wave… I’m big, I’m noticeable and I’m somebody. Then, one day I’ll not be so big, I’ll not be noticed and I’ll be long forgotten. With my legacy and my excellence in the ring, it’s likely I could continue this career for another five years or so. Then I’d have to retire and begin to fade into obscurity. However, that is not my way. I’ll be forgotten long before I’m past my prime. After I defeat El Linchador this weekend and become the only GCWA Grand Slam Champion, I’ll be done with wrestling. It’ll be time for me to complete my final challenge to joining the Legion of Afley – I’ll have to give up every bit of myself. I’ll have to become someone different and my legacy will be wiped out. It won’t matter that I’m a Grand Slam Champion. It won’t matter at all. Instead, all that will matter is that I am working towards the destruction of Catholicism. That will become my new legacy. The OCW World Title, the GCWA World Title, the OCW Hall of Fame – none of these things will matter. They will all be forgotten and instead I will move forward with one goal in mind: destroying Catholicism and bringing Arachne back. It will be my true legacy. It is my only goal…

Bifford watches one final wave hit and then turns his back to the cliff, looking at the door.

Bifford: That door is my destiny… Without access to that door – unlimited access – I have nothing. Title belts mean nothing, wins and losses mean nothing, awards mean nothing, the only thing that truly matters is that door. That’s why I’m willing to give it all away. All the things I have will go. And I have a lot of things – a lot of things a loser like El Linchador will never have. When were you GCWA World Champion, El Linchador? Never. When were you GCWA Warrior of the Ring, El Linchador? Never. Are you in the OCW Hall of Fame, El Linchador? No you’re not. You have none of these things to give up. I do. And I will give them up – and I’ll also give up my victory over you and my Intercontinental Title… because it’s what I have to do. Mock me all you’d like, El Linchador, but I’ll have my final victory and then I’ll move on to my next goal – the destruction of Catholicism, and I’ll have my sweetest victory.

Bifford steps forward to the huge door and knocks on it three times. The door, huge and metal, makes a loud noise. It opens a crack and an eye peeks out. The eye looks Bifford up and down.

Doorman: Who dares to knock on this, the greatest of all doors ever made?

Bifford: I am the one currently called The Big Bifford. Someday I hope to have unlimited access to this place, but right now I come only as a guest… a guest of Plethora the Perilous.

The door immediately swings open. Inside is a huge lobby/great room. The stone floors are dark and damp and two grand stairs cases go off in different directions. There are a number of seats throughout the room, some of them occupied by older men who are reading, but most of them empty. To the left there is a large library – the door open – with many people moving around speaking intelligently on scholarly topics. To the right there is a series of doorways with a chair outside each for those who are waiting for appointments. Most of the people moving around are well dressed – either in a suit and tie or a blazer and dress shirt. There don’t appear to be many women – but one is visible walking in the library wearing a pant suit. Bifford, dressed in a huge black dress shirt and pants doesn’t seem out of place, however he might weigh more than any other single person visible. One of the doors down the hallway to the right swings open and a man in a black robe – who looks like the Grim Reaper – walks out. His face is hidden by the hood and he approaches Bifford quickly. Bifford watches the man, trying not to look frightened at all. As the man gets closer he reaches up and pulls the hood down, revealing his stone cold, icy blue eyes. The man, revealed the other day as being Plethora the Perilous, is visible. He walks up to Bifford and extends his hand. Bifford reaches out and grabs it and shakes it. The two of them smile at each other and Plethora signals for Bifford to follow him. The two men walk down the hallway to the right and Plethora walks into the door he just opened prior to meeting Bifford. Bifford follows him in and doesn’t find an office – instead he finds a dark, stone room with a mattress in the corner and several large boulders throughout the room. Plethora walks up to a boulder and leans against it. Bifford walks up to a boulder adjacent to Plethora’s boulder and does likewise, leaning against it facing Plethora the Perilous.

Plethora: I hope there are no hard feelings between us for what I did to your home… I just felt that unless it was truly destroyed that you’d never be fully able to give up your past.

Bifford: Well, you definitely did a… err… comprehensive job.

Plethora: At any rate, I think your acceptance into the Legion of Afley is an excellent idea. I’ve heard you’re involved in Professional Wrestling. This has something that has interested me for a long time. I’ve considered a career in the sport for many years. Senseless violence seems like a lot of fun to me and I hear the pay is second-to-none. I’m considering getting into the game.

Bifford: I see… I’m considering getting out… So perhaps the world of wrestling will even out.

Plethora: Why would you get out? Breaking in skulls seems like something you excel at!

Bifford: It is… However, I was told in order to be counted among Those Who Know, I’d need to get rid of every part of my present life… and that includes professional wrestling.

Plethora: I suppose that is true… Perhaps, then, you could teach me a few tricks so that I might make it big in this industry. I just want to beat the hell out of some people. There are a lot of people in this world that I hate, and I imagine that I’d find a lot in professional wrestling too. And then I’d be free to kick their asses and get paid for it. It’ll be great times…

Bifford: I’ll certainly help you… and there’s this one guy named Dangerous Dan that I know you’d hate. I hate him so much that it makes my teeth hurt… but I’ve beaten him so many times that I just can’t stand beating him anymore. I’ve taken everything he loves in this world and destroyed it, yet he continues to live. Perhaps one day, once all this is done, I’ll kill him.

Plethora: Perhaps. Or perhaps I’ll do it first. Either way, this sounds like great fun.

Bifford looks over and sees a trophy on the one stone wall of the room. He peaks his eyebrow when looking at it and Plethora howls with laughter. He walks over to it and pulls it off the wall. He walks over and hands it to Bifford. Bifford looks at it, while Plethora leans back against his boulder. Written on the trophy is “First Place – Science Fair of 1999, Walkerville High School.”

Bifford: Is this your name? Thomas Klein? And you were some sort of scientist?

Plethora: No. I was never good in school – in fact, I barely ever went. Tom was a loser who did well in school and tried really hard. He was a stupid nerd and had a hot girlfriend because he did her homework for him. He won the science fair, and the fifty dollar prize that went with it. As he left school that day, headed towards his fucking nerdy car, I stepped in front of him and his girlfriend. They both stopped and she looked at me – I could tell she wanted me. She yearned for a real man – not a wimp like him. He tried to act tough, but I could tell he was pissing himself inside so I kicked him and then demanded that he fight back and he refused. So I just started kicking… Eventually he stopped breathing, right there in the parking lot. Nobody came to save him. Nobody wanted to, because they were so afraid of me… Do you think his girlfriend ran away? No. She stayed. She watched me kick him to death. Then she watched me steal his fifty dollars in prize money and his trophy, give his corpse one good kick, and then she jumped into my car with me. We weren’t 10 feet away from his dead body when she leaned down and went to work on me… She worked on me the entire way home and then I worked on her all night long. It didn’t bother her that her boyfriend was dead because she knew she found something better.

Bifford looks at Plethora as though he’s nuts. Plethora, lost in a world of his own, smiles evilly.

Plethora: That’s just like what you’re going to do this Sunday… You’re going to have your last moment of glory in the world you’re in now and then you’re going to move on and not be bothered by it because you’ll know you’ve found something better. Being a champion, I’m sure, will be great… but being a member of the Legion of Afley will be so much better, Bifford. This is where you belong… You’re a man of logic and men of logic seek to bring about the truth… and the truth will never be free as long as Catholicism lives. You know that, don’t you Biff?

Bifford: Yes, I do… I’ll take care of things this Sunday, Plethora. I’ll defeat El Linchador and I’ll become Intercontinental Champion. Then I’ll do what Lurrr, Draco, Derek Mobley, Shane Donovan, Dangerous Dan, Crazy Chris, and everyone else could never do… I’ll become Grand Slam Champion. I’ll have held every title important in GCWA. I humiliated Lurrr when I won the GCWA X-Division title, showing that I have what it takes to get it done. I messed with Dangerous Dan’s mind when I destroyed him to take his Tag Titles… and then I took Draco out when I beat him for the World Title. Draco has been afraid to show his face ever since. Draco knows that I was the superior man, that we fought on even playing field and that I beat him. This weekend I’ll fight on an even playing field with El Linchador and I’ll take his Intercontinental Title. Not because it means something to me, because it really doesn’t, but because it’s something that I must do to be unique. I’ll be the only Grand Slam Champion… then it’ll all be done. I’ll hang up my boots and burn them. My life as a professional wrestler? It’ll be over.

Plethora nods, appreciating what Bifford is saying. He smiles and walks over to one of the walls. He pulls down an LCD television that seems to appear out of nowhere. On the LCD television is a picture of Arachne kneeling in a chapel and praying. He is wearing a cassock (black robe).

Plethora: Tell me, Bifford… How could you possibly be “giving up everything” of your past if one of your goals is to save Arachne? How is that possible? Giving up everything means forgetting friendships, Bifford. Perhaps you didn’t understand the rules. How can you give up everything and yet keep a friendship? Arachne will no longer be your friend after Sunday.

Bifford: But…err… I just decided to join to help Arachne… I didn’t realize…

Plethora: Shut up Bifford. Yes you did realize it. You must give up everything. Your friendships included. You must forget that Arachne exists. Because if you ever encounter Arachne on a mission while trying to destroy the Catholic Church, you may have to kill him.

Bifford: Kill my friend? That’s insane… I could never do anything like that…

Plethora: He’s not your friend anymore. After Sunday, he’s just an afterthought. A nobody.

Bifford looks stunned for a moment, just staring at the picture on the LCD screen.

Plethora: Besides, look at him… He’s a shadow of what he once was. Even death is better than this fate. By killing him, you’d be doing him a favor. Don’t be sad about killing him, be happy.

Bifford nods his head slowly, realizing that all Plethora the Perilous says is true.

Bifford: Yes… If need be, I will kill Arachne. After this Sunday, I will forget him… He’ll no longer be my friend. And if killing him is one of the steps to destroying Catholicism… He will die.

Plethora smiles and turns off the TV as the scene fades to darkness.