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Here's how I'd write it:
Kane enters the arena, snarling like usual. A stagehand approaches.
STAGEHAND: Um...Kane?
Kane turns around and grabs him by the throat.
KANE: WHAT? What the HELL do you want?
STAGEHAND: I just wanted *ack* to tell you that there's a package for you in your locker room!
Kane tosses the stagehand aside and stalks off. He enters his locker room, and it's completely bare, except for one black wreath. Kane just goes absolutely apeshit. After the break, Hurricane and Rob Conway are battling, when the ramp is engulfed in fire. Both midcarders stop what they're doing and turn to the ramp. Kane stalks down the aisle, fuming. He just about clotheslines Hurricane's head off, then gives Conway a big boot. He pulls them both up off the canvas and double-chokeslams them. Maybe Rosey and Rene Dupree come out to break it up, but they both get slammed for their troubles. Kane grabs a microphone. He's still seething.
KANE: All right! That's enough, dammit! We get the idea! You're NOT done! You've made your point, now knock it the hell off!
The bell tolls, and the lights go out.
KANE: That's right. Show yourself, you son of a bitch... I'm gonna finish what I started at--
Thump.
JR: Bah Gawd, King, what was that?
KING: I have no idea, JR, but I'm freaked out.
The lights snap back on, and Kane is unconscious in the middle of the ring, the wreath around his neck. Fade to commercial.
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