"As of now, Cactus Jack DOESN'T CARE!"

[Cactus Jack steht blutverschmiert Backstage und hält seine Hand als sei sie gebrochen.]

Cactus Jack: "Sandman, somewhere deep inside this demented mind, there lurks a soft spot. A soft spot for the things that have gone through in my life; a soft spot for the wrestling history in my life; a soft spot, Sandman, for you. Because you are a part of my wrestling history. 5 years ago, where Cactus Jack was just starting to build a legend; 5 years ago when Sandman was just starting to exist.

And so when I heard with eager ears the tales of the Sandman in ECW and Kevin Sullivan send word and said the Sandman is fabulous, I was very proud, and I watched and deservingly so was I proud, because, Sandman, every time you smoked their bud, it brought me pride! Every time you piledrove another helpless opponent, it brought me pride! And every time you smashed the singapore cane against somebody's scull, IT MADE ME PROUD! Because I knew who you were taking your lessons from, and you've learned really well; because the Sandman doesn't and still does not CARE about winning.

Just like five years ago, Cactus Jack, had not a care in the world! And I hate to see up the look into my eyes, and you can see, I am a changed man! BECAUSE I LIKED TO WIN, Sandman. I liked the ego-gratification of the One, Two, Three; I liked to have my hand in the air and I LIKED to sign autographs! And therefore, I have become a weaker man. Because Sandman, when you chose to cross my path, YOU CHOSE A LIVING HELL!!! Because you have awoken a sleeping giant; made me ashamed of the man I have become!

And I guarantee and I make you a vow right now, THAT I'M NOT GONNA BE THAT MAN ANYMORE! Because as of now, Cactus Jack DOESN'T CARE! You look at me Sandman and you remember real well: I put the garbage can across your head AND YOU DIDN'T GO DOWN! I put it across your head a second time and not only didn't you go down, but I saw the slight remain OF A SMILE! And I said: The Sandman is playing head games with the master. AND HE'S WINNING! So Sandman, you made my hand a useless weapon! I'm not a doctor, but it's hurt real bad. And now you've taken my psychological warfare out of the game: So I say to you, Sandman: LET'S LET IT ALL HANG OUT!

Where wins don't count; where the numbers One, Two and Three don't mean a damn thing! To where the only variable that means anything, is guts. Because you've got them, Sandman. And once upon a time, I did too. And so I'm gonna look deep inside my soul and say: "Cactus Jack, if you can't take the Sandman out, in the most vicious match of the game, then maybe you better become a full-time daddy and forget about wrestling, BECAUSE ECW AIN'T FOR THE FAINT OF HEART!" So Sandman, I'm on my knees. [geht auf die Knie] I am on my knees!

And I'm asking you for the favor: You meet me in my match! Not Falls Count Anywhere, because that's far too simple with One-, Two-, Three- counts, and god knows, I don't want them, too. Sandman, Texas Deathmatch. Where the last man standing wins it all. And if you can beat me, Sandman, in the Texas Deathmatch; A match made famous by the likes of Ciclón Negro, by the likes of Stan Hansen, by the likes of Captain Redneck Dick Murdoch and by the likes of my idol, Terry Funk; and Sandman, I'll walk away from this sport and I'll walk with my head held bow, because once upon a time the words "Cactus Jack" meant something in the world of wrestling!

But as far as I'm concerned right now, THESE ARE WORDS I DON'T DESERVE! So Sandman, you take the challenge, and you beat Cactus Jack, then the way I go; to become a full-time husband, a full-time father. And I don't want that. No Sandman, what I want, [hält seine verletzte Hand vor das Gesicht]

IS YOU!

BANG BANG!!"