The camera pans across an old wooden board, where the name RAF Binbrook is just about readable among all the dirt and faded lettering. A quick caption flits across the bottom of the screen, â€˜In operation from June 1940 to April 1988
The shot quickly flashes to a hanger interior, here we see a vast open space seemingly bereft of anything at all when in the distance at the far end of the hanger we spot a seemingly familiar shape. Though not quite in focus, itâ€™s obvious shape is there for us to see and as we draw near we see more defined details appear, the corner posts at first then the ring ropes as the camera draws closer.
To the right of the ring the camera picks out the lone figure of a man, seemingly sparring on an old punch bag but as we become ever closer, we realise that it is in fact a large, old army duffel bag hanging crudely from the ceiling by some old rope, itâ€™s innards filled with an unseen content that gives the bag body and weight.
The camera now inches closer to the man in question, we see a familiar looking rose tattoo on the right shoulder and as we creep in it becomes apparent this is a figure of large stature, well over 6â€™5â€™â€™ in height.
Seemingly feeling the presence of the camera, our pugilist stops throwing punches and turns to face the camera just as we draw in. Spencer Churchillâ€™s face is in full frame:
â€˜For a long time during my first tenure in the States I was doing a lot of soul searching. I went over there with a purpose in mind, to prove to you Yank peasants that your perceived wrestling greats were a pure fallacy and that none of them were ever truly great. I wanted to show the world that Britain produced the best the world would ever see, while also showing you the error of your ways by denying yourselves the chance to remain a part of the greatest Empire that this world had ever witnessed, the British Empire.
While I was over there teaching you lazy Yanks about respect, discipline and perfect wrestling I came to realise that while my intentions were perfectly sublime I was over-looking an issue that was much more important, much more deserving of my immediate attention. While you Americans needed an education that could wait as a more pressing matter came to my attention.
This matter was the fact that over there you already had a representative of Britain on your shores, one who had somehow managed to make quite a name for himself despite his apparent lack of decency, discipline, manners and my superior British wrestling technique.
This man had obviously been corrupted by the sad Americanisation of my beloved country, that I am undoubtedly seeing more and more every day. Why change to something new, when what we have is already far superior to anything you peasants will ever have.
This despicable individual was none other than Rob Rage.
I would sit there aghast while this cretinous individual would embarrass not only himself but far more importantly the greatest nation on Earth, my beloved Great Britain. I was so overwhelmed with rage I couldnâ€™t concentrate, I couldnâ€™t focus and worse of all I became sloppy in the ring. The place where things mattered to me the most, my performances were suffering as I allowed myself to be eaten up my own rage.
So I decided to break away. I needed time to refocus myself, I needed to find my discipline, my fight, my superior technique all over again that I had allowed to slip through my fingers. So to this end I decided to return home, to return to the place where my journey to greatness had originally began. This is the place where I was trained to fight, trained to be superior to everyone else, trained to be the perfect fighting machine where I would come to realise that I have no equals and that I needed to show the rest of the world their follies of ever allowing The Empire to become diminished.
I have lived, eaten, breathed and slept pure wrestling training for the last few months and now I am ready. Ready to finish what I started, ready to show the world that I am here not to just make up the numbers but to make a devastating impact on the psyche of all professional wrestling.
So in a perverse way I want to thank Rob, wherever he may now be, as his despicable conduct has allowed me to rise again like Lazarus.
Now I have returned to these shores and found my way here, in the end all will suffer because of what I was put through, I am here to be the World Champion.
The Best In The World is coming
The Empire Is Rising.'