The Bad Guy sits on the pavement, his head in his hands. He looks up, but sees nothing. Finally with a deep breath he turns to his side, putting all his weight his right arm, and awkwardly makes his way upwards. Walking, he makes his way to his home. An old brown terraced house with a small dying gardin at the front. The gates scream open, he continues towards the front door and slams it shut before the camera can make its way in.
Moments later, he emerges again. However, now he's carrying two big suitcases filled to the brink and look about a tonne in weight. He grunts his way through the pain as he reaches his car. He opens the boot and shoves the two suitcases inside. He makes his way over to the drivers seat and eagerly climbs in, wanting to get away as soon as possible. He puts on the seatbelt and begins to check the mirrors. As he opens the fold down mirror above him, a picture of himself and fellow wrestlers from BGW hits him in the head. He grabs the photo and stares at it. After long contemplation he crushes the photo and throws it on the floor, he grabs his phone and dials an unknown number.
The Bad Guy: "Urm... may I speak with Mr. Daniels please?.... He's busy? Ok...."
The voice on the other end of the phone is female and inaudible.
The Bad Guy: "I was just trying to remember where I needed to go...."
The Bad Guy continues to look down at the floor, at the crinkled photo below him.
The Bad Guy: "Hmm.... Word.... Yes, I know where that is, thank you..... You too. Bye."
The Bad Guy puts the phone down, he puts the keys into the ignition and speeds off down the road, eventually making a left turn.