Let's just say that Con Escobar came, he saw, and he completly OWNED!!! Robert Michaels. Yes, that means he hit the patented spear on him. After about a minute went off the clock, Con pinned Michaels, and picked up the win. But Con wasn't done there, oh hell naw! He grabbed the microphone from Binkle, and was about ready to kick some more ass!

Con: "Y'know, I've had about up to here with Rot ducking me lately. Yeah, he beat me. And yeah, he doesn't need to worry about me anymore. But that son of a bitch STILL hasn't seen my full revenge. I know for a fact that he'll pull his strings with the Jerm so that he ducks out of a match with me, and Hamid won't be able to do jackshit, so you know what. I'm going to go talk to the big man up in MSN headquarters. Maybe I can talk some sense into him, because with Rot's Silver-tongue clouding McMillion's mind, I have no chance at killing off what is Rot. So next week, ladies and gents, Con Escobar won't be here. But don't fear, nah. Because I'll be pulling something soon enough, and that's the TV Title off of Rot's cold lifeless hands."