"At that point, I hadn’t had any concrete discussions with Steve. All we really knew was that I would be doing the honors for him. By the time WrestleMania’s main event came to a close – Austin vs. The Rock – I would have put him over clean and give him the title. Beyond that most basic of outlines, though, there was mainly blank space."
"The ideas flowed freely as we hung out against the ropes. At one point, Vince McMahon walked out, saw what we were doing, and nodded. He didn’t come over and crack jokes or anything like that. This was Game Day, and it was the game of the year. Vince is typically very respectful of situations like that. Unless he has a point to make, he leaves us alone in the hours leading up to a match. By 3:30, we had the foundation of a pretty good script."
"After the match, as I walked back up the aisle, I could hear Steve’s music playing. I knew he was celebrating in the ring, popping cans of Budweiser and spraying the audience, toasting a victory as only he can. I was so happy for him, and for us, and for what we had accomplished. But I had to stay in character. I had to keep scowling and spitting and snorting, at least until I passed through the curtains."
"He tossed the belt – his belt now – onto the couch. I jumped to my feet and met him in the center of the room, and we hugged for a good ten seconds. It was a strong hug, a real fucking brotherly embrace reflecting a tacit understanding that we had just shared something remarkable."