Static covers the screen as a Play ► symbol appears in the bottom right-hand corner.

The Crypt – Recorded Earlier.

The Cryptkeeper sits in a rocking chair, leg crossed over the other, pouring over a page in his book.

Suddenly, Keeper looks up from his book and sighs.

“Lightning crashes, and the Storm has arrived in my crypt.”

From behind Cryptkeeper, the Storm indeed appears.

Luke Storm.

“Then you know I’m here to kick your fucking ass,” the Champ says.

“I know you’re here to try,” the Keeper replies.

Lightning Strike!

But the Keeper, with surprising speed, as if he truly knew what was coming, stands up and spins!


Luke turns to the Keeper.

The Keeper scowls.

“What is it you think that I can tell you, Luke?”

Luke answers with a double-leg take down!

He mounts Crypt and punches him in the face!




“I don’t want you to tell me a god damn thing,” Luke screams. “I want you to SHOW me where my daughter is!”

Keeper reaches up and GRABS Storm by the throat.

He stands up and SLAMS Storm into the wall, and nose to nose, the Keeper snarls.

“I cannot show you anything,” he says. “Because I have nothing to do with your daughter.”

“You can show me the page,” Storm says. “I know it’s in there. Show me.”

Keeper’s eyes widen.



A strike of a match, a puff of a pipe…

And coughing.

So much God Damn coughing.

Sitting on the docks of the New York port are the unlikely duo of Scrimshaw and Pickpocket. The latter of which is hacking his lungs out after failing to smoke the pipe Scrimshaw seemed to have reluctantly handed him. The Salty Sea dog snatches his pipe back, wiping it off.

“Yer gettin’ spit all over it! You said you’d smoked one of these before!”

After hacking and coughing Pickpocket wipes his mouth, a little teary eyed from coughing like, as many would say, a bitch.

“I, uh, may have embellished that a little bit. BJ’s smoked them before though.”

“The tree rat?”

“Yeah! Watch!”

Scrimshaw is a bit to slow to stop BJ from plucking the pipe from his hands, scurrying up a nearby light pole and smoking from the pipe with surprising ease.

“Oh hell no! Get down here with me pipe before I REALLY make you into stew!”

The captain begins to climb the pole when Pickpocket interrupts him.

“Hey, Scrim? There’s something in the water.”

Scrimshaw rolls his eyes.

“Is it a fish again? Or your reflection like last time?”

“Hey! I look really different in water, okay? And no! It’s a bottle!”

Scrimshaw turns around to see Pickpocket grabbing the bottle from the water, the front of it having a label upon it reading Scrimshaw’s name. The captain quickly takes the bottle from Pickpocket’s hands, examining it as he pops out the cork.

“Well I’ll be… I ain’t never seen one of these addressed to someone.”

“How did someone even make sure it got to you?”

Scrimshaw shrugs as he reads the note inside of it out loud, having to squint his eyes at some relatively messy handwriting.

“Captain Scrimshaw and crew,

I am contacting you anonymously as I am in need of something, something that only you can get your hands on. I would like to set up a meeting. Next Monday, in the depths of the slaughterhouse. Come ready to parley.”

Scrimshaw pauses for a moment, perplexed by the letter when he glances over to Pickpocket, the boy having a massive grin on his face.

“Oh, oh no you’re not-”

“BJ won’t give back your pipe unless you let me come with.”

The sea dog sighs before rolling his eyes, rolling up the message and pocketing it.

“Fine, but if you step outta line then I’m making you eat whatever stew BJ gets put into.”

“Uh… deal?”


The scene fades out as Pickpocket scratches his chin,

“You are joking, right, Scrim?”

“Sure, boy. Sure.”


It is MEZ VS BEG for the rewind championship! The title is hanging up because tonight, it’s a ladder match to determine the champion! Who will walk away as champion? We find out next!

DING! DING! MEZ is marching to BEG! He’s ready to throw hands but BEG rolls out of the ring! Mez follows him out but BEG rolls right back in trying to avoid the monster! MEZ climbs back in between the ropes but BEG latches on a guillotine!

BEG is trying to choke him out on the ropes but MEZ is shaking his head and he moves the helmet into BEG’s abdomen! MEZ jumps through the ropes! MODIFIED GUT CHECK! He hits the spear through the ropes! BEG is down and MEZ goes out of the ring!

MEZ has the ladder and he slides it into the ring! He’s waiting for BEG to get back up! ANARCHY! He hits the Thesz press on the ladder! He’s mounting heavy blows as BEG is laid out! He tosses him off the ladder and sets it up in the middle of the ring!

MEZ has dominated this match and he is starting to climb! BEG is completely out of it! MEZ is at the top! His fingers are touching the gold! CRACK! BEG HITS MEZ IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD WITH THE CANE! Mez was that close but he has fallen! BEG smirks and pulls the top of the cane off! It’s not the blade! It’s a rope and Beg is tying MEZ’s leg to the ring ropes! BEG climbs the ladder and grabs the belt with ease! BEG IS STILL REWIND CHAMPION!

What a match! BEG has done it against a dominant MEZ! He shows his resiliency and his wit on his way to holding onto that title! Hold on! What’s going on? BEG is getting a note from someone in the audience!



In an old dirty gym, a young woman stands practising sharp kicks on a punching bag. She’s ripped, blonde and rather beautiful – with something very kickass about her. An aura, to say the least.

With every striking blow, she screams in frustration.

“You’re tough,” a familiar voice rings out. It belongs to Sigil, who appears behind her. She doesn’t even turn to face him, entirely unafraid.

He walks around her to the front, grabbing the bag as she leathers it with another kick.

“I have a proposition for you, a job offer if you will,” Sigil continues.

She finally stops kicking and walks away, taking a seat on a bench and picking up a towel. The Collector follows over.

“I need an army to fight a war against a powerful foe. I need the best fighters in the world by my side to win it. I need special people.”

“What makes you think I’m special?” She asks, throwing the towel down. “Or interested?”

“You want to be a wrestler, don’t you?” Sigil says with a tilt of the head. “That’s why you’ve rigorously trained your entire life, is it not? I know all about you.”

“I made a promise,” she interrupts. “I can’t break it.”

She stands up and walks back over to the bag, this time practising punches.

“I have a way for you to keep your promise and be the wrestler you’ve always wanted to be.”

That piques her interest.

“If you come with me, you’ll never have to come back here again,” he says confidently. “That’s a promise I can make.”

Finally, she stops working out, putting her hands on her hips.

“I’m listening,” she decides.



In the Public Execution coliseum, the bodies are piling up by X’s hand and it looks like Aesop and Banzan have brought in two more victims. Alton Whitlock speaks up for X and all of Imperium.

“Two? We told you to search for as many criminals as you could find to fund this operation. This is the opposite of the tough on crime rhetoric I have been speaking about. They better be the type all can root against.”

X walks up and joins the conversation between executions.

“Back in this arena you two? It feels like old times. Anyway, I am just hoping they put up a fight, it’s becoming easier for me. It’s like they don’t know they become free if they survive. Well, introduce the newest victims to me.”

Banzan waves them in, the first one a large rotund man with a dark beard and a bald head. The second is a tall, lanky man with a red mask. Aesop begins to speak.

“The man with the appearance of bearded bumblebee is Martin Volowitz. He has been wanted for crimes around the world that are too vast and frankly, too weird to list.”

Martin Volowitz shrugs and Aesop motions to the lanky man next to Martin.

“Our masked fire ant here goes by the name of El Pyro. He has the reputation of starting any fire he can, and he is here based on the suspicion of being the starter of the wildfires in Australia. They had the choice of letting him die in the outback or Nevada, they chose this desert.”

X cranks his arms ready to do this, Alton looks at him and says,

“Looks like you’re ready, who do you want first?”

“Give me the fat man, you should announce the pyro. People will want to watch me destroy the man who killed all those koalas.”

“Looks like you’re up Martin.”

Martin Volowitz curls up into a ball and extends his hand, he simply wants to shake hands then take the killing blow! X obliges and shakes Martin’s hand! Martin holds on and traps him in an armbar! It’s the lady of the lake! El Pyro slides in and puts his mask on Martin! It’s Marvolo II and Junkrat! Alton yells at Aesop and Banzan!

“What’s the meaning of this? What are they doing here?”

“Ask them, the Butcher told us to bring them here.”

“Is that correct you two?”

Junkrat speaks up.

“Yeah! He’s tired of Public Execution taking away potential revenue. He wants our teams to fight and if you lose, you have to cancel the show and lose the arena.”

“What’s in it for us?”

“Open the black box Banzan brought in.”

“What’s in it Banzan?”

“I don’t know, the Butcher gave it to us, and he told us not to open it before you could see.”

“Honorable as always Banzan, open it up.”

Banzan opens the box. It’s the tag team championships! Junkrat screams!

“We’re fighting for the gold bitches! This place is going to look worse than Gary when I’m done with it!



The fans have chosen as Aesop gets a title shot against the Keeper but can he force him to say the words or will he but another page in the Crypt?

The bell sounds as both men walk forward, delivering a slow but powerful lefts and rights at one another in an exchange that Aesop wins out, delivering a thunderous chop that echoes throughout the arena before a hard suplex sends the Cryptkeeper to the mat. The Keeper quickly gets up right into another flurry of chops before a hard spinebuster nearly plants him through the ring.

The Keeper slowly gets to his feet right into a big headbutt that staggers him before he’s lifted up high into the air, THE G…CRYPTKEEPER SLIPS OUT! Aesop turns around right into a massive ENDING Big Boot which sends him stumbling into the corner. Another huge Boot knocks Aesop for a loop as he’s lifted into the air in a Tree of Woe before The Keeper backs up a few steps.

BEFORE DELIVERING THE TALE OF WOE! Aesop looks out of it as he slowly slips down to the canvas. The Keeper barely lets him hit the mat before he pulls him up, spinning him in the air before slowly spiking him into the mat with BUMPED HIS HEAD! Aesop looks done as the Cryptkeeper looks for the end

Aesop slowly stumbles to his feet as The Keeper lashes out, CURSE OF THE…AESOP’S FABLE! Aesop locks in the Dragon Sleeper out of nowhere as he pulls back with all his might, torquing back as The Keeper slowly begins fading away, forcing him to utter the words ‘I Quit!’

Aesop is the new VHS Champion, forcing the Cryptkeeper to utter I Quit out of nowhere


Ring King.

A warehouse.

A place seemingly acting as a home for someone. We see Mark Gouldern standing in mid conversation with X. It is a scene that we have seen before, but from a different angle. For in the shadows, watching the conversation, is a figure.

A figure who listens in on what is being said…

“You don’t understand, huh? I know so much and offered so much but a mere few months ago because I wanted to test your abilities. After all, you were my greatest failure.”

As Gouldern continues to speak, the dim light illuminates the hiding figure enough to reveal the tell-tale red hair of SeeSaw. He is rubbing his hands together in a silent chuckle as he overhears the conversation.

Gouldern walks towards an incredulous X, still fiddling with his gauntlet.

“A lot to take in, isn’t it? Turns out you’re still too human when not in combat. You still need some tests run on you, to see where I went wrong in your design.”

At this, SeeSaw slinks away, moments before Gouldern’s security team swamp the premises. Slipping out a side window of the warehouse, once outside, he leans up against the warehouse wall and giggles to himself.

“Oooh-ohoho. Think of the toys we could create together. If Marky can design, rebuild and fix that, he could work wonders for all of the ideas I have.”

He thinks for a moment, bringing a thoughtful finger to his chin.

“I just have to think of the right… leverage to convince him. Then wait for the opportune moment. Just, what to do to get Marky’s attention?”

He rubs his hands together as his devious plan forms in his mind.


The sun rises over an empty baseball field not far from The Slaughterhouse.

A single figure stands in the middle of it, cap on his head, clipboard in his hand.

Coach Sparky McCarthy.

Behind him, an old yellow bus pulls into the gravel lot next to the diamond.

It comes to a stop. The doors squeaks open and Warden Johnson emerges. His polished boots gleam in the morning sun.

Next, following the warden obediently, comes Mez, in a straightjacket.

The coach walks to meet them.

“Your team is ready for you,” says the warden. “Including your All-Star first baseman and clean-up batter.” He pats Mez roughly on the shoulder.

Meanwhile, an entire roster’s worth of asylum patients exit the bus.

McCarthy gawks at Mez.

“Look at them arms,” he says. “This fella? Out of the park. No problem. Maybe he’s more of a catcher with the mask, though.”

McCarthy looks over at the rest of his team.

“They ain’t pretty,” the coach says, “but they’ll do. Pleasure doing business with you, warden.”

“I’ll be back to pick them up before sundown, bring ’em back tomorrow,” he says. “You’ll want these.” He hands the warden a briefcase full of tranquilizers and stimulants, plus a ring of keys.

As the warden walks away, McCarthy turns to find Mez staring directly into the sun.

“What’s your name, son?” McCarthy asks him.

Mez makes no reply.

“Don’t talk much?” the coach asks once again.

No response.

“Nothing wrong with that,” McCarthy says, nonchalantly. “Have it your way. I’ll call ya Big Hoss.”

Shockingly, Mez nods.

McCarthy smiles.

And then, precisely at that moment, is when the fastest fucking flaming meteor of a fastball that Coach Sparky McCarthy has ever seen goes whizzing by his head.

Then it plows into an unsuspecting asylum patient. He’s blasted back off his feet, sent hurling 20 feet backward.

Across the field, a man in molten armor stands.


“Honor. Discipline. Patience,” he calls. “These are the lessons of the game of baseball. The essential elements of a great warrior. I seek to sharpen my sword. May I join your team, Coach?”

The coach waves him over, then turns to Mez.

“Big Hoss,” he says excitedly, “I think we may have just found us our ace pitcher.”



Australia’s Greatest Lover gets his chance at the Double Feature Championship but can he beat Seesaw at his own game here tonight?

Junkrat rushes forward at Seesaw who does the same, the two insane combatants going head for head in a flurry of blows which Junkrat gets the better of with a massive bell ringing headbutt that drops Seesaw to one knee before a massive punt to the face sends the champion flying into the corner. Seesaw is dazed in the corner but gets little respite as he’s met by Junkrat’s flying asshole as the mayor of Gary drops down with a huge Cannonball.

Seesaw stumbles out of the corner as Junkrat tries to drag him down into the Steel Trap. Seesaw manages to slip out of Junkrat’s hold, drilling him low before lifting him up high and Powerbombing into the damn corner! Junkrat bounces off, holding his back in pain right into SUPEFINE TURBINE BLAST!

Both men are down, the spinebuster taking a lot out of Seesaw as Junkrat manages to get to his feet first. Rushing to the ropes as he drills Seesaw with a dropkick to the face before backing up as the champion slowly gets to his feet. Junkrat rushes forward, spinning around Seesaw, CONCUSSION….BACKDROP DRIVER!

Seesaw counters the DDT just in time as he quickly heads to the top rope, leaping off with the FLIGHT OF THE ORNITHOPER to the back of Junkrat before pulling his arms up off the mat and locking in the STRETCH ARMSTRONG! Junkrat screams in pain as he’s forced to tap out!

Seesaw retains his championship here tonight in a huge hard fought contest against the Mayor of Gary Indiana


Tomorrow Afternoon.

A strange sight greets us as we find The Red Death sat on a fake leather couch in a run down home. A broken window can be seen behind him as he sits watching a door. He grins as we can see the door knob to the door being jiggled,

The sound ceases for a moment, then…


The door flies all the way open as a new form saunters into the room.

Berkshire Ellison Green.

He has the note he was handed at CyberSLAM in his hand, but his arrogance turns to disgust as he sees Death sat on the couch.


The pair exchange punches as Death fights to a vertical base.

“You two-faced son of a bitch!” BEG roars.

Death grins wider as he absorbs the shots. BEG steps back, picking up a lamp. He looks down at the note he dropped as he came in.

“You got a death wish?” BEG says.

Death laughs, an almost crazed sound.

“You’re fucking crazy.” Green says, shaking his head.

Red Death goes silent, glaring at Green.

“And you’re so paranoid about Edward Newton that you trusted someone who’s fucking crazy.”

BEG’s eyes protrude out of his skull. That cut deep.

“I’m not paranoid! I will own his ass before this is all said and done.”

Death laughs.

“You have to make it through me, first.”

Green nods, snapping his fingers. The Red Death isn’t surprised as he sees black shadows creeping outside the house.

“Newton’s gonna drop you like the prom queen’s baby the second he’s done with you.” BEG taunts, his composure restored.

“He can try.” Death retorts.

“That’s the problem with you, Red.” BEG grins. “You see it coming, but you don’t get the fuck out of the way.”

Green’s black-clad thugs flood the room, swarming over the Red Death. BEG watches for a moment, and turns to walk away.

“I’m not paranoid.”



Continued from earlier…

“You can show me the page,” Storm says. “I know it’s in there. Show me.”

Keeper’s eyes widen.

He lets go Storm, who drops to the ground and clutches his own throat.

“No, I can’t,” the Keeper replies.

“Why!?!” Luke screams.

“Because they’re MY PAGES to keep!”

Luke, fists squeezed so hard his knuckles turn white, gets back in Keepers face.

“And it’s MY DAUGHTER in those fucking pages.”

Keeper sighs.

Luke continues, “Christ, do you even know what it’s like to be human? Do you have a single human emotion inside old your old, dead heart!?”

“Storm,” Keeper says, shaking his head. “If I were to show you a single letter of my tales, it would be you who would not remember how human, all too human, you were before.”

Storm’s eyes widen.

“What you take as selfishness on my part is in truth nothing more than an act of compassion.”

Luke sighs.

After a moment, he shakes his head.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am all too human.”

And something sinister, all too sinister, emerges in Storm’s eyes.

Luke ascends an old stairwell, covered in cobwebs.

However, he stops halfway up.

“So do those pages TELL you what I’ve planned next?”

Keeper turns to Storm, his eyebrows raised.

And suddenly, Keeper sees it.

How could he miss it!?!

A canister of gasoline sits on the stairs by Luke’s feet.

“I didn’t think so.”


It all comes down to this, folks! The choice has been made, and Luke Storm defends his OSW Championship against the Realm Walker in a steel cage tonight!

Sigil charges at the champion, whaling on Storm with lefts and rights to wear him down before sending him head first into the cage. Storm is groggy as Sigil continues the attack with a boot to the gut of the champ…FINITE! Sigil nailing the champ with that leaping roundhouse kick!

Storm is down as the Realm Walker looks to the cage, intent to finish this one quickly. He heads over, beginning his ascent…but Storm has made it back to his feet, grabbing the ankle of Sigil! The champ tugs at Sigil’s leg, bringing the Collector back down to his level.

The two duke it out, Storm with a flurry of kicks that is met with some heavy punches by Sigil…LIGHTNING STRIKE! Storm just caught the Realm Walker by surprise with that superkick! It’s the champ’s turn to make an escape, as Storm starts climbing up the side of the cage!

NO! Sigil grabs the champ off the cage…LONG ROAD AHEAD! Storm lands back first onto the knee of Sigil, who unloads a series of elbows on the champ! Sigil is ready to put this one away…BUT STORM CATCHES THE COLLECTOR WITH THE DOWNPOUR! Sigil is down after that Codebreaker from the champ!

Storm is wobbly as he walks toward the cage, slowly climbing up as Sigil gets to his feet, looking to catch up to the champ…but Storm is already at the top! Sigil rushes up the cage, but Storm climbs over and drops down to the floor! STORM RETAINS!

Storm has managed to overcome The Collector tonight, retaining his OSW Championship in the process!


Luke Storm manages to get back to his feet, another successful Championship defence here tonight.

The referee hands him back his Championship but any celebration is bound to be short lived because Edward Newton is soon on his way out, as promised.

The Riddler has Scarlett with him, holding her hand as he walks her to the ring.

“Mr. Storm, it’s time to make your decision,” Newton says, helping Storm’s daughter into the ring. “I warned you what would happen should you refuse me.”

Luke kneels, grabbing Scarlett’s hand.

“Hi honey, are you okay?” He asks, watching as she nods her head. “Has he taken good care of you?”

“He’s been so much fun, daddy, but I want to come home now,” she pleads. “Can I come home, please?”

“Can she, daddy?” Edward mocks with a telling whine.

Luke looks at her, then at Newton, then at the fans. They’re pleading with him not to hand over the Championship but he has to make his own mind up.

It didn’t take long.

He tosses the belt at Newton’s feet, pulling his daughter away by the hand.

“Did you really think it was going to be a difficult choice?” Storm asks, walking Scarlett towards the ropes. “I’ve always known what you wanted, Riddler. Now you have it!”

Edward bends down and picks up the Championship, looking at it with a wry smile. This is everything he’s wanted since Ring of Dreams last year.

It’s now that he finally atones for his loss to Nightstick.

He raises the belt in the air, listening to the fans in attendance who boo. Luke Storm is half way up the entrance ramp as trash begins getting thrown into the ring.

The Riddler has taken Luke Storm’s World Championship.

He’s been given it.

Surely this cannot be.



In the darkened halls of the middle of no-where, The Butcher stands before a large oak table.

We remember this place.

The Hall of Skulls.

Four chairs sit around the table, each occupied by a hooded skull.

“Why did you bring me here?” The Butcher demands to know, his hands carefully by his sides.

One of the skulls pulls down his hood, revealing a yellow mask.

“I’m the yellow skull, but you may call me Flavo,” he says, introducing himself. “I’ve been working with Sigil to help him control his connection to the crystal.”

“Crystal?” Butcher enquires. “You mean the timepiece?”

Flavo nods.

“That timepiece has been created using a crystal that has tethered itself to Sigil. I told him he couldn’t help you in your quest to reverse time,” The Yellow Skull admits. “And he wisely obeyed.”

“You’re responsible?” He fumes in reply, stepping forward. “You’re the reason I can’t go back? You’re the reason I’m miserable?”

There’s an eerie silence.

“I know what you want, Colin,” The Red Skull interrupts from a chair at the very top of the table. “And it’s only fair we reimburse you for your time. If it wasn’t for your help, we would never have found the timepiece in the first place.”

That easily piques his interest.

“But first, we need something from you, something very important,” Red continues.

“Everything comes with a price, does it not?” The Butcher asks. “I’m willing to pay whatever it takes but are you willing to commit to your offer once made?”

The Red Skull stands up and walks around the table, standing before The Butcher.

They look at each other, sharing a stare.

“There’s only one way I can achieve what you need and it comes at a price so steep, you may not be so willing to pay,” Red notes, tilting his head. “But before we get there, before you pay that price, there’s much to do.”

“I’ll pay it,” he growls back. “Just tell me what you want.”

“A battle will soon rage within your walls,” Red continues vaguely. “A battle that will dominate Ring of Dreams. Sigil is gathering an army of warriors to battle alongside him against this foe; four candidates have been selected.”

The Butcher nods.

“You want me to grant them passage unhindered through The Slaughterhouse, don’t you?” He queries.

“Amongst many other things, Colin,” Red confirms.

Suddenly, there’s like an Earthquake. The entire ground and roof begin shaking, dust falling to the floor as it does.

Everyone scrambles, panicking.

The Butcher doesn’t know what to do, since he has no idea how he got here or how he’d leave.

Then something appears.

Stood amongst them, cloaked in black, wearing a green skull mask.

It’s the Green Skull.

“Viridi,” Red angrily shouts. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“You’re plotting against me, are you not?” He asks. “I am the original time keeper, the master of time and that crystal was stolen from me in a moment of weakness.”

“You chose another path,” Flavo interrupts. “You’re the one who abandoned the Red Skull Order.”

“I had no choice,” Viridi grumbles angrily. “You must understand this, Rubrum,” he continues, looking at Red. “I’m coming for my crystal and I will take back my seat at this table.”

Flavo suddenly attacks, running at Viridi who dodges the right-handed attempt and connects with a knee to the face.

Rubrum immediately grabs The Butcher, running out of the room with him and the other skulls in tow.

Viridi grabs Flavo and tosses him over the table, watching as he rolls off and onto the floor.

He stands up, stopping reality.

Only Viridi is untouched.

That confuses Flavo, who’s eyes widen.

“How?” He demands to know. “How does my power not affect you?”

“I’m no longer susceptible to your crystal, Flavo; reality doesn’t control me. You can morph it, bend it, stop it and start it; I’m immune to it all.”

He walks over, angrily grabbing Flavo by the throat. He squeezes tightly, watching as he falls to his knees.

“We have never seen eye to eye, have we?” he growls, squeezing harder. “Maybe it’s time I remove you from the chess board?”

Before he can, Flavo clicks his fingers and restores reality. Into the room runs the Skulls, forcing Viridi to vanish promptly.

In the dropping of Yellow, who chokes for breath, the rest of the skulls can breathe a sigh of relief themselves.

Rubrum kneels to check on him.

“It’s ever more important that Sigil succeeds,” he announces. “As does his team. See to it, or the consequences could be catastrophic.”