We fade onto a busy street in downtown Austin, Texas. We see many peopke walking, eating, playing street much, the like. We then see a homeless playing drums made from buckets. Another gentleman, dressed better than anyone watching, walks up and suddendly kicks the buckets from the guy.

???: YOU FUCKING SUCK.

The homeless man gathers his buckets, and runs off. The gentleman looks, spots the camera, and speaks.

???: Oh hi. I didn't see you there. Don't you fucking HATE those fucking guys who play the same fucking rhythm on fucking buckets all fucking day? It's like "Hey, asshole, there's no tonal difference in the buckets. Stop repeating the same fucking thing over and over, and over and over"...I'm trailing off here.

He starts to leave the camera shot, then suddendly into another one, with him walking looking dead on.

???: You know, it's funny...I never actually introduced myself. Name's Austin. Austin Balandran. Back in Mexico, they called me the quote, unquote "Mexican Maniac." I don't think that's accurate description of me. But hey, if you can put it on a t-shirt, it'll sell.

Austin sees a kid with ice cream and knocks it out of his hand, seeing the mother and flipping her off as he continues.

Balandran: Because, "Maniac" implies that I don't know what I'm doing. When in fact...I know exactly what I do. I beat people up, and I'm damn good at it too. Like what you, the WiR Universe, will surely know soon enough. At House Party 100, I'll be sure to answer those age old internet questions: "Is Maverick gonna go over?" "Is Nova a good Independent Champion?" "Should Mark Dutch get another title shot?" Let me go ahead and spoil those answers with the following: no. Here's why. Because...I'm coming.

Austin stops and gets serious.

Balandran: I'm gonna tear WiR's asshole apart and give it volcanic diarrhea. I'm going to give you internet marks something to jizz all over your keyboards to. Because at the end of the day...chuckles I'm just better than you.

Austin steals a slice of pizza from a passerby. He throws his arm like he's about to punch him. The passerby runs away. He takes a bite of the pizza then tosses it aside.

Balandran: I am The Mexican Maniac. And I'm coming to W. I. R.

We fade to black