Noel enters the ring to a chorus of boos and chants of "POTATO". He points at the audience and makes a jack off gesture with his Union Jack Sheraton before calling for the mic.
"Now now parka monkeys, what's the best part of every meal and makes everything good...taste even better. The one thing you all love? That's right, the fucking potato."
He cackles at the audience.
"You lot couldn't spell 'potato' if your benefits depended on it. Now shut the fuck up, I've got something to say."
Noel's eyes fall to his feet, his caterpillar eyebrows furrow.
"On this road to becoming the greatest song writer of his generation, I've done some things I'm not proud of, screwed over those who trusted and suppor--", his voice cracking suddenly.
He takes a moment to compose himself.
"...supported me."
"Tony McCarroll! Tony, if you're in the arena, come out here. I've got something to get off my chest."
The pounding drum riff to Bring It On Down plays through the speakers. Tony emerges from the entrance decked in a City jersey that barely conceals a substantial paunch. The bright flood lights bounce off his bald dome, the brown bushel of curls a distant memory. There is a spattering of applause. The camera zooms in on members of the audience, some of whom look confused. One redhead girl looks over at her friend and appears to mouth "Alan White?"
Tony limps down the red carpet to ringside. With some effort he manages to pull himself up onto the canvas. He pulls out two drumsticks from his back pocket and tosses them to a clamoring throng of middle age fans. With both fists pumping enthusiastically in the air he shouts "Tony, Tony, Tony", encouraging the audience to join him in the chant. They do not. Noel's eyebrow raises with amusement.
Tony glares at Noel from behind the ropes expressing a mixture of anger and caution, hesitant to enter the ring and confront his former bandmate.
Noel makes a "come over here" gesture at Tony. Tony steps through the ropes and stands a safe distance apart from the Chief, still visibly intimidated by the man who sacked him.
"Look mate, I did you wrong. Your drumming gave Definitely Maybe a punk rock aesthetic that we never were able to capture again on future records. And how we buried you in the Live Forever video? That was fucked up."
"Can you forgive your old mate?"
Noel casually drops the mic and maneuvers the strap of his Sheraton so it rests against his back like a broad sword.
Noel reaches out his left hand to shake.
Tony stares at Noel's hand in bewilderment, unsure what to do. He looks at the crowd to his left, then to his right. "Should I shake his hand", he appears to ask the 5,000 in attendance.
"Noooooo", the audience groans. They're shaking their head, cautioning Tony against accepting Noel's gesture of contrition.
Noel sticks his hand out more forcefully.
"Please..."
Tony tip toes over in slow motion, every few steps looking at the audience. He's slowly nodding to himself as he inches closer to the center of the ring.
They take each others hands firmly and shake. Noel pulls him in for a hug. Plump tears can be seen streaming down the old drummer's cheeks. Noel pats him on the back, reassuring his old friend that everything will be different now. Then the two men face the audience, and he raises Tony's arm up high. Noel with his free hand points at Tony as if to say "this guy, this fucking guy right here!" Tony reciprocates the gesture, pointing at Noel as if to say "No, this guy. THIS guy right here!"
They soak up the cheers and adulation. Noel looks at Tony and points back at the entrance. Tony turns around to look. In an instant, Noel is wielding the neck of his Union Jack Epiphone with both hands. The crowd screams at Tony to look behind him. When he does, Noel stabs his rib cage with the bottom edge of the guitar body. Tony bends at the waist in agony. Then Noel raises the guitar up until both arms are fully extended and smashes it down onto Tony's back. The blood curdling sound of wood cracking against flesh echoes throughout the building and elicits an audible gasp from the crowd. Tony lies limp in the center of the ring.
Noel grabs the microphone and looks around at the booing fans.
"This one is a new track on the next album."
"Boooooooo."
"It's called HE BANGS THE DRUMS!"
He throws the mic down and bludgeons Tony's prone body, over and over again, until all thats left of the famous Maine Road artifact is half a fretboard. Tony's body goes into a momentary siezure and then goes still. Appearing to emerge from a deep daze, Noel's face undergoes an unsettling transformation from one of psychotic rage to serene calm. He nonchalantly wipes the white spittle that had collected around the corners of his mouth and exits the ring, flashing double V-signs on the way out.
Minutes go by as emergency medical personnel attempt to revive Tony's lifeless body. Only the audiences soft murmurs and the medical personnel's words can be heard.
"Tony, can you hear me? Tony!"
A deafening crash of BREAKING GLASS interrupts and Wall of Glass blares from the speakers. The crowd erupts into a frenzy!
LIAM GALLAGHER runs out from the entrance in a black parka and cargo shorts.
"LIAM, LIAM, LIAM!!!", the crowd screams.
Liam slides under the ring rope and pushes aside the medical professionals.
"Tony! Tony!!!", he says.
Liam starts marching around the ring, clasping his hands on his head and staring wildy at the audience in pure disbelief.
"Noel! NOOOOOEEEEELLLLLLL!!!", he roars at no one in particular as the program fades to black.