Whoever that was, were individuals that had to pay the price first. And we did. So I don't know. It's one of those ongoing, ever ending stories, a chaos, jealousy, mistrust, it was exactly everything that, in my world, I didn't want. Because the problems, you had the regular problems, travel, and payoffs, booking, and just going over and all this other that you do with every single day in that role. But man I never got so immersed in this cesspool of shit as I could ever imagine, and I didn't like it. Nobody liked it. I guarantee you, rusha tell you the truth is that none of us were having fun. Right. But we had jobs. And we were wrestling people. So what else are you going to do with that great degree you got wrestling? Well, you got to do the best you can to keep your job and contribute. And dig ourselves out of this hole. Well, we know what's coming next on the heels of learning hey man, the company's in some financial straits. It's the backstage fight. Things bubble over in real life. There's no cameras here for Sean and Brett. Here's what Brett, here's what Sean wrote about this in his book. By the time I wrestled in the tag match, Brett and I had nearly reached the breaking point. He had said bad things about my folks and apologized, but now he had going on to stir things up by telling the dirt sheets and others that a fake my injury and retired before WrestleMania, in order to avoid putting him over. On June 9th, we had a television taping and Hartford. I was in the dressing room when he came to me and said, I just want to say, and I cut him off before he could finish. Don't talk to me. You haven't said a word to me for three weeks. If you can't talk to me for three weeks, I don't want to talk to you now. I don't think Brett was used to people talking to him like that. About 5 minutes later, I was turning around to get some gear out of my bag and I felt somebody pushed me from behind. I turned around and Brad asked what's your fucking problem? You I yelled. He tried to punch me, but I peeled back and he missed. He pushed me again, but this time I stood up. He swung again and missed, and the next thing I knew, he went for a double leg dove. I caught him around the upper body, and we went straight back through a piece of panelling. We had each other in front face locks when pat Patterson and Davey boy came over and grabbed us. Pat was all in come on you guys. I'll let go and Brett yank the hair full, a handful of hair, out of my head. That hurt like heck, but I didn't retaliate. The fight was over. I went storming in Vince's office, and I told him I'm outta here. This is bullshit. I saw Aldo Montoya, who later wrestled here as just incredible, and asked him to give me a ride back to my hotel. He wasn't working that night, so he took me. I missed the show and flew home the next day. Vince sent my lawyer, skip McCormick, who had hired when I found out about Rhett's contract. A letter stating that I'd violated my contract. Skip responded by writing a letter claiming the WWE had failed to provide a safe working environment. Heard that one plenty of times, and skipped told me they were trying to blame everything on me, but once he wrote the letter back, and it would be back in their lap and they would have to ask me to come back. And that's exactly what happened. Now here's from Brent's perspective here's what Bret wrote at about 6 p.m. I went into the bathroom to jail my hair before going across all the type interviews. I was surprised to see Shawn's reflection go by me in the mirror. I could see he was up tight, so I smiled and casually said, hey, Sean, and he cut me off. Fuck you. You haven't talked to me for over a fucking month. What makes you think I'm gonna talk to you now? Even though I had hair gel all over my hands, I was primed to go back to my original plan. But Sean vanished through the doorway passed crush it was lacing up his boots and heard the whole thing. I set out to find Sean, but he was gone. I paced around the backstage area until O and Davey Jim and pillman came to find me. I know Sean's watching from somewhere, waiting on me to leave this room. I bet you the second I walk out of here, he'll walk in, all the stuff is in here. Watch. I cross the hall, walked into the interview room and cracked up in the door to peek back into the hall. Sean strode past me into the dressing room. He was bent over fixing his boots when I'm more straight up to him and I pushed him to his feet. You got something to say to me? And he flicked a Whig punch at me and missed. Balancing awkwardly on my good leg I popped him on the chin, rocking him on his heels. He came for me, so I grabbed him by his long mane and pretended I was going to do a hammer throw with the Olympics. I was dragging him around the room when a hysterical pat and frantic law I ran in and jumped on top of me. Unable to pry me off, shouted for the other wrestlers to help, but they being crush had no intention of saving Sean. It was nothing but a scratch fight, really, but when we were finally separated, clubs of Sean's precious hair fell from my hands. That's the fact that I was in there too. And that was all the things that happened. The most significant memory I have is weird as it probably sounds..