The shot open on the door of a toilet stall, where within Clutch is presently very audibly punishing a toilet. The gentle muzak playing in the bathroom suddenly cuts out, replaced with a familiar voice. 

AH-HA-HEM! Clutch Cassidy! Don't get up, I know you're busy. But it is I, SAMAEL DYSON, manager extrordinaiirre of the much feared and reviled Kristoffer Arroyo, and I am here to make you an offer!

I just bore witness to one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen! That epic beefer you just cut on live television was Le Chef's Kiss! *muah*! Ya see, hot chicks farting is kinda my thing. Even better if it leaves a little extra in the pants.

Clutch....did....did it leave a little extra....? Just wanted to know for, ya know, personal reasons. 

Anyhoo, I know you're looking for a tag partner and I'd like to offer my services! Maybe it's hard to believe but I can be one hell of a scrapper when I need to be. And I know if you pick me we'll fuckin' roll those two cardboard cutouts and win that gold. 

And then, maybe afterwards, you can, ya know, let me crawl around behind you as you unleash some more toxic vapors from that finely toned ass of yours. No pressure though! JUST AN IDEA!

Let me know! CIAO, FIRECRACKER!