"Hey," he says to some of the maintenance guys double checking the special million dollar mania sign. The thing's disgustingly gaudy, completely narcissistic and 100 worthy of a McMahon. He hates it every time he has to walk out underneath it.

The flaunting of power... the reckless bribing of fans...

Cold eyes narrow as he once more gazes up at the sign hanging overhead. Just the right move and the whole thing could topple. Just like that. One move...

--

It's even easier than that. A loose cable over here and the lighting equipment is quick to fall. He couldn't have timed it better himself... While everyone is distracted by that, and the resulting light show, he quickly scrambles under the stage and begins working on the ramp. This had been set up before, his own little contigency plan. Vince may have been trying to turn another new leaf (How many times has he said that now?) but people don't forget easily, it wasn't that hard to find a helpful face amongst the crowd.

They work together feverishly, loosening parts further until finally it's just about to go, loud creaking over their heads a dead giveaway. They quickly scramble and when it happens, it's marvelous: The money and McMahon both fall as the metal stage gives out from under him.

Surprisingly, the old man gets to his feet sooner than they figured he would, and they think he sees them skulking behind the titantron area, but the show's not over as he looks up with a horrified gaze and they duck further away as the scaffolding sways and finally falls, due to the lack of support from the section of stage it had been against.

Job done, they take off into the back, careful not to go too fast and arouse suspicion but also not slow enough to get caught.

Once far enough away, they stop and work at quietly catching their breath so the people buzzing around don't pay much attention to them.

"So, did that accomplish everything you wanted it to?" his accomplice asks, snapping off the gloves from his hands with a sigh.

"Yeah," he murmurs, tugging his off as well. "All that and more."

"Was it worth it?" Carlito asks, leaning back as more people bustle about, pinched, worried looks on their faces.

No one cares about the two men conversing in the corner of the hall. At that point, Snitzky and Boogeyman could've been having a tea party and no one would've looked twice.

"Definitely." It's not hard for Ken to say it and look like he means it too. The part of Kennedy that begs for a father knows this is so wrong, that there's still a chance Vince could've been his dad, but the part of him that replays the look on McMahon's face the night that jackass-liar-scum of a lawyer said Kennedy was not the true McMahon child and the resulting suspension where he was forced to sit at home and watch as Hornswoggle was claimed as McMahon's bastard son knows he's done the right thing.

He's left it behind now, you see. He'll be going to Smackdown and Vince has gotten what he deserves, drowning in his own money as the world he created collapses around him, and Mr. Kennedy will never let another McMahon look down at him like that again.