H. Rickman / Galactix Vs. J.T.Cash / C. Bond Vs. J. Cole / S. Hessingstock

[GRiM]

['Trio of Teams' Tag] Match

Note from SCCW Rep, Justin Rose:
"Tix, you and Rickman were probably made for each other. Cash and Bond could prove to be a team for the ages... And Hess, since Stern is nowhere to be found... You can have the tired Coletrain. Go kill each other for all I care, just make it good..."

RP limit is TWO (2) and the deadline is Sunday.
March 14th @ NOON, 12 P.M. Eastern Standard time.

OOC - Have fun...

[Benny Bunny]

"Just tell me what I can do to make things better between us" she says with a look of desperation in her eyes. I could see the tears beginning to well but I couldn't forgive her. I couldn't bring myself to say 'I'm sorry', I couldn't. It wasn't that simple. After all she had put me through there was no way I could just let things slide. Call it pride, I may just be a small person,
but at this moment I can't bring myself to do it.

"You can't do anything, Adele" I reply coldly. I stand stoicly. Chest out, shoulders back and my chin high. I strain to maintain my pose, hoping that Adele will back down first. She doesn't.

"There has to be something" she whimpers. "Come on" she adds and I snap.

"I forgave you for rejecting me after we slept together last time. I don't hold the beatdowns I suffered at the hands of Atreides against you, I don't” I’m flailing my arms around, jabbing my right index finger viciously at Adele.  “Right now I'm angry at you because you've ruined my happiness. You and that mouth of yours, spewing all that crap about me and Jodi last week ... Now I can't look at that sweet, beautiful woman without thinking that I don't really love her and that I'm just stringing her along. And it's killing me, Adele, and it's your fault. I was happy, for the first time in years, I was happy and you've ruined that!"

I'm almost shouting as I finish my monologue. The blood boiling inside me as I vent my frustrations in an unhealthy manner. Adele is visibly breaking down in front of me as each word drops out of my mouth. The tears flowing down her cheeks, her rouged cheeks. It would be harder to say these things if she didn't tart herself up like a two dollar whore. If she looked like the sensible, introverted woman I could see myself falling in love with all those months ago I wouldn't be able to do this. I would look into those emerald green eyes and all would be forgiven. Is that shallow? I probably shouldn't care what she looks like, the fact that she betrayed me and caused me so much pain should be enough to make me stay away from her. As if things are ever that simple. Suddenly I'm brought back to reality.

"You don't love me?"

Kill me.

Kill me now.

I don't know what I look like right now. A deer caught in headlights probably has a less angst-ridden face than mine. It's just my luck that Jodi would walk in on that rant. I turn to face her but she's already running away. I can't stop her, I know that much. I'm flying out ot HIdalgo tomorrow to compete for the NWA so my best hope is that she'll still be here when I get back because this certainly isn't a conversation for the phone.

Now Gonzo's rendition of The Smiths' 'This Charming Man' isn't the low point of my night.

---

I arrived back from Hidalgo a few days later, on the Monday afternoon ahead of that night’s Aggression. Sure, I’m not scheduled to compete but it seems better to show up than to stay home and tend to my bruised ego. Besides, there’s a couple of bottles of Mad Dog in the fridge with my name on if I feel the need to drown my sorrows.  Will I need to drown my sorrows? How badly could I have screwed up my life this time … I just don’t know.

Gonzo picked me up from Lester B. Pearson airport and drove me home in his Touareg. Evidently he’s been speaking to Adele in the few days I’ve been gone. Apparently she’s ‘really, really sorry’ and ‘wants everything to go back to how it was’. Presumably she means before she messed up my life.  Gonzo practically begs me to talk to her, saying she’s genuine and sincere. I suspect she’s just been a real nag and he’s passing her off on me - maybe I’m being cynical. Maybe I just don’t care how genuine or sincere she is about asking me to forgive her; I don’t want negative influences such as those in my life. But for nearly an hour (I knew I should have lived in Toronto) Gonzo talked, starting with the pleasantries to lower my guard. Then drifting into the Adele subject as I was beginning to unwind. The bastard. I tried to steer the conversation towards his music, hoping his vanity and pride would prevail and save me from this torture, but to no avail. Whatever Adele had said to him obviously did the trick because he would not relent.

When Gonzo finally dropped me off at my apartment block I ran inside after thanking him, up two flights of stairs and I opened my apartment door and breathed a sigh of relief. I stepped inside and heard the feint sound of music. Von Iva. I’d gotten to know their songs fairly well over the past few weeks. I closed the door behind me and upon hearing the sound, Jodi stepped out of the bedroom wearing a pair of shorts and a black Barrie Colts jersey, carrying a tub of phish food ice cream. Her blonde hair tied up crudely in a ponytail. Obviously I had walked in on a slob day. I dropped my bags on the floor and struggled to think of something to say.

“You’re still here” was the best I could muster.
“I wasn’t expecting you back so early” she replied. “I-I-I” she struggled for words as well.
“About the other day … I’m sorry I said what I said”
“Don’t be” Jodi said as she put the ice cream down on the kitchen counter and she ran across the apartment towards me before wrapping her arms around my torso. I was confused.
“Okay, I’m confused” I admitted as I hugged her back. She squeezed tight and I caught the scent of strawberries from her hair. She smelled so sweet. The heavenly aroma almost pushed the confusion out of my mind but as Jodi released the hug, the confusion returned.
“I’ve been thinking” she said. “About what you said, about us and I can’t hate you for saying you don’t love me. I tried, believe me I tried. I had your signed photo of Warren Zevon in my hands and I was going to tear it up--”
My eyes widened.
“But I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t hurt you like that, Tix”
Damn, why did that nickname have to be the one to catch on?
“I’m sorry, I love you, really I do” I muttered again.
“I know you do, hun” said Jodi as she placed her hand on my cheek. I cradled her hand in mine as my eyes lowered to the floor. “But you’re not in love with me”
That’s the conclusion I came to as well.
“And that’s okay”  she continued. “I love you too, hun, but I’m not in love with you either”
Ouch.
“You’re n-not, what?” I stammered defensively.  I’m not sure why I played the hurt card, I was being let off. Damn those self destructive tendencies, they arise at the worst times.
“Don’t play hurt, Tix” she joked. “I realised while you were away. It’s what we do, you and me. You flew to California to be with me when you were on the rebound from Adele and wanted to be with someone. I came to Barrie to be with you because I wanted a fresh start. We weren’t seeking each other, hun, it’s just, we were the first person we each thought of”
Jodi lowered her hand from my cheek and stepped in to hug me again.
“I’ll always love you” she whispered in my ear.
“I’ll always love you too” I replied.
“But you don’t want to be alone and I can’t go back to California” she bit her lower lip as she paused. “So here’s what I propose…”
The phrase open relationship is one I never believed in. I was raised to believe in fidelity and loving relationships. It’s what I’ve always tried for. From when I first crushed on Stephanie in year four up to that moment, I thought I had the right answer. But this has brought me nothing but pain; mostly emotional and only sometimes physical. At this moment I realised I had been wrong all this time.

Only now may my happiness truly begin.

So why was my first thought about Sydney LaRoux?


~*~ Present Day, and third person narrative ~*~

The chilled out sounds of Band From TV’s ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ drifts out from the stereo system as Galactix idles around his office down at ‘Funk’s Tattoos and Piercings’. He’s blissfully unaware of the trouble brewing outside…

“Adele, you’ve got to go talk to him” states Gonzo as he stands with both hands on the desk.
“He doesn’t want to talk to me”  replies Adele. “It’s been over a week and he hasn’t spoke to me yet”
“He’s been too happy these past few days. I think he’s forgiven you”

Adele looks towards the office. The one-way glass blocks her from seeing inside, but she knows he’s in there. She takes a deep breath and thanks Gonzo for giving her the confidence to work this out before striding across the studio towards the office. She doesn’t knock; instead opting to slowly open the door.

“I went down to the Chelsea drug store” sings Galactix inside, but he stops as he hears the creaking of the door. Adele opens it a bit more and sticks her head inside.
“Hey, Adele” chirps G-Funk. “Come in!”

She looks puzzled, but Adele steps inside the office as Galactix offers her a can of Monster. She declines. Adele closes the door behind her and straightens her grey Offspring t-shirt. If she knew she would have plucked up the courage to confront Galactix today she would have dressed up slightly. Instead she looks rather trampy. Her blonde dyed hair hangs down around her shoulders and her jeans lack a certain pressed appeal. She knows it’s wash day, but people will still judge her for leaving the house looking like that.

“You’re talking to me?” she asks.
“I have to thank you” replies Galactix as he turns off the stereo. Or pauses it. Adele looks shocked; she wasn’t expecting an apology.
“Are you serious?” she enquires.
“Kinda yeah” comes the reply. “It’s a long story and not one I want to really get into, but I need to say thank you. Your attempts to fuck me over may have actually been a blessing in disguise”

Pause.

“You’re going to have to let me in on the secret, Tix”
“Urgh” he mumbles. “Erm, Jodi and I talked things through and now things are better than ever. Hows that?”

Adele nods, seemingly content. He may not be disclosing all the details but at least he’s talking to her. That beats the outgoing message on his voicemail telling her to stop calling him.

“Muffin basket?” says G-Funk as he mysteriously produces a muffin basket from, presumably, under the table. Bewildered, Adele accepts the gift and puts it down on the table and hugs Galactix. He reciprocates, hugging her back before the embrace breaks. Adele hurriedly grabs the basket up from the table and heads out of the office. The sounds of ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ start up again as Adele walks away, across the shop and back towards the desk where Gonzo is still standing.

“So how did it go?” he asks.
“He forgave me and gave me a muffin basket” replies Adele.
“Ooh” says Gonzo as he grabs a blueberry muffin from the basket. “So it all worked out?”
“I suppose” she muses.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing…” she says before pausing. “Well, I’ve got to head off and pick up my car from the shop”
“Sure thing, see you tomorrow” says Gonzo as Adele leaves the shop.


~*~ Channel “A” Studios ~*~

Finally, Galactix has made it to the studio. He enters through the front door with a smile on his face and the SCCW Welterweight Championship belt over his shoulder. An orange beanie pulled down towards the bottom of his forehead with a tie-dye swirl t-shirt and some baggy, ripped jeans complete the ensemble as he strolls through the halls.

“So Justin Rose has assumed control of SCCW and he’s playing a cruel trick on some of us. As much as I appreciate the chance to face Chris Bond and J.T Cash together in one match, I assume this match wasn’t scheduled for my benefit” says Galactix calmly as he keeps a steady, slow pace. “I’m feeling too good to let you bring me down, Justin. I mean, you let me team with Hannah Rickman, that’s more generous than you’ve been to me in a long time. I was half expecting to be teamed with London Bridges or Rex Masters - but after her victory over Kip Kutler last week, I can dig this … Not a bad word to say about Hannah Rickman. And I think even my esteemed opponents would struggle to say anything bad about her as well. Be it Cash, Bond, Hessingstock or Cole”

G-Funk passes through a door and stops momentarily on the other side as a couple of people walk by. He continues to walk down the halls of Channel “A” Studios as he starts up talking again.

“On the other hand … Chris Bond, lets start with you. We met a few weeks ago, I remember it well. I had your number, Chris. It sounds arrogant but how else can you explain my dodging of your Reality Check and planting you head and shoulders into the mat with the Galactic Slam? Apart my sheer awesomeness … But that would be even more arrogant of me, wouldn’t it” he says with a shrug of the shoulders and a chuckle. “Then again, a lot has happened since then. I’ve become the SCCW Welterweight Champion, you’re the Legacy Champion and you’ve gone out of your way to piss off Joe Cole. I watched last week as he put you through a glass pane, Chris. This model of integrity, this former marine. That’s the man you got into the head of, Chris and he also happens to be one of our opponents this week. And I don’t know what’s running through your mind right now, Cole. I don’t even want to know what you’re thinking. I’m not one to get in the middle of a raging battle and despite Justin Rose’s efforts, I’m leaving you two to fight this one out”

Pause. Galactix stops and looks around, There’s nobody nearby.

“Between you and me, I’ve got my eyes on somebody else”

G-Funk keeps walking, almost jovial in his stride.

“And no, it’s not you Samuel. Recently, we’ve had our run-in. I knocked Atreides out and let you and Stern get the victory, Very giving of me, if I do say so myself. Whatever the motive, that son-of-a-bitch deserved what I did to him. He chose to make a spectacle of my life. He made a wrong decision and he paid for it that night … But, and I must stress this point. He did not deserve  what J.T Cash did to him … Karma intervened via that young punk and he robbed me of my chance at vengeance”

Pause.

“I’m not bitter, Cash. Far from it.  You represent a new challenge, albeit, one that reeks of Justin Rose. You bested me at the NWA Wrestle Classic and became the World TV Champion. I can respect that, really I can. What I don’t respect is the sneak attack you did on Atreides. The chair shot you caught me with. Whatever cheap tricks you have planned for this week … I’m sure our paths will cross many times between now and our showdown at ‘Blaize of Glory’ and I assure you of one thing, Cash, man. Luck does not shine on those who oppose Galactix!”

End scene as Galactix continues on his merry way.

[Hannah Rickman]

The debut had been a success. At least, that was what Hannah was hearing. Personally, she was not so sure. Winning by count-out was not the problem. It was exactly how she had managed to get out of being counted out also. Standing in front of a mirror, Hannah stared into her own eyes. Tempted to begin adding make-up to her complexion, she had to stop herself before she began indulging. Too many things were more important right now.

Hannah: “How are these people supposed to believe in me if I don’t change my tactics? Throwing me back into that ring...Max, I would have been better off being counted out alongside Kip Kutler.”

Max: “It’s over and done with. Those people cheered when you won.”

Hannah: “That’s true...but...it’s still wrong. No, you need to stop this.”

Hannah lifted a roll of tape up from the sink in front of her.

Max: “Me?”

Hannah: “Yes, you. Every time I take one step backward, you take me three steps back.”

Max: “I threw you back into the ring, I didn’t do anything-”

Hannah: “No, no. Just take responsibility for your actions! We both need to start doing this. Trust me; having morals can be good for us.”

Hannah finished wrapping her hands in tape, and cracked her neck from side to side. Even after a good night’s sleep, it still hurt. Something she was probably going to have to get used to, she figured. Neck problems were known to never exactly go away.

Hannah: “Besides...I have one hell of a match this week that I’m not exactly sure I’m prepared for.”

Max: “Plus, you’ve never exactly been known to work as a team mate.”

Hannah: “That’s the easy part. I’m working for the team this time, working toward our combined accomplishment. It helps that I’ve got a tag team partner in Galactix too...have you seen his track record? He’s a former Heavyweight Champion, current Welterweight champion...that says enough.”

Max: “And have you seen yours? Babe, come on...I doubt he could call himself a former TFWF European Champion, a former PWR-”

Hannah: “Stop it, okay? It’s not about what I’ve done in the past. It’s about getting back into this business without ruffling any feathers. I’m just back in my game, and ready to show the world what I can do. Galactix has my back in this match, that’s a given. I fully intend to have his; I’m not going to be that tag team partner you have to watch anymore. He can trust me.”

Max nodded his head, in no mood to ruffle up his fiancé’s emotions again.

Max: “Two other teams to face this week.”

Hannah sighed, sitting down on a bench across from her. She closed her eyes and sat back against the wall.

Hannah: “I know. Every other person in this match has made some kind of a name for themselves here. It might not be a good name, or even a bad one...but it’s something. They’re not going to take me seriously, and I can’t blame them. I just barely beat Kip Kutler. They’re going to see me walk into that ring, flick their fingers...and watch me fall to the mat.”

Max: “In their imaginations...in reality, I think it’s safe to say you’re going to give a much tougher fight.”

Hannah scoffed and stood up from the bench. The locker room surrounding her and Max was empty.

Hannah: “We’ll see about that. I’ve been doing my research...every single one of those competitors can beat me without breaking a sweat. It’s had me thinking...a lot. Maybe I should be demoted for the remainder of my career, maybe I should stay opening the show, picking up a win here or there.”

Max: “Or you could return to the days of old.”

Hannah: “I’m not cheating to win anymore. End of discussion.”

Max: “You know you’re just a ploy to make Galactix think he has some kind of a shot this week. That’s all Justin Rose sees you as, a toy in his little game. He doesn’t give a damn what you do...if anything, he thinks you’re going to mess it up for your team, which is why he added you.”

Hannah: “And he’s right. Whatever he’s got going on with Galactix is just that...his own vendetta with Galactix. He’s been nice about me, can’t find a bad word...notice how he couldn’t find a good one either? There’s none to be said.”

Hannah dropped down onto the bench again, resting her head in her palms.

Hannah: “Then there’s the Legacy Champion in Chris Bond. Teaming with JT Cash, I’ve been hearing things about the two of them together...apparently; they’re a team to be afraid of. Bond is up in his own deal with Joe Cole apparently...ugh, it just gets more confusing. Throw Samuel Hessingstock into the mix, and you’ve got your own little army. I’m just a lost little bunny running into their line of fire.”

Max stared at Hannah for a moment, before kneeling down in front of her.

Max: “So pick up one of their guns and shoot it straight into their fucking skulls. It’s not fair, but it gets the job done. It’s not cheating; it’s just evening the odds!”

Hannah: “It’s black and white Max; there are no shades of grey.”

Running her hair through her fingers, Hannah sat up again.

Hannah: “Cash, Bond, Cole, Hessingstock...they all know how it feels to be successful. They’ve gone through careers that have not been thrown into disarray thanks to some stupid mistakes and a big head. I have. I could step into that ring and crumble into a million little pieces. I don’t know if I can even make it past this match. I’m just in their damn way, and they know it. Even if Galactix has my back, JT Cash is out to eliminate him from the equation. He’s going to be far more distracted than he realises. I’ve got no doubt he can handle whoever comes searching for him...but no human being can handle more than one target at a time. He either keeps his focus, or he gets distracted. I’m not going to let myself mess it up for Galactix. He wants his hands on JT Cash; he’s going to get his chance.”

“As for Chris Bond and Joe Cole...I think it’s safe to say neither man has suffered any short term memory loss. We all saw what happened on the last edition of Aggression. If one man doesn’t kill the other, I’m sure they’re both going to walk out of that match with some kind of injury. I’m not planning to get in their way. I don’t need to be thrown into that mess. I’m beyond all of that now, I’ve realised there’s no point in making grudges in this business and having enemies. If someone doesn’t like you...you deal with it. You wrestle in that ring, no matter what. But having people out to get you, who plan to end your career, who wants to see you fall? No, I’m done dealing with them.”

Max: “You were one of them.”

Hannah: “Exactly. I’m not going to be one of them anymore. What’s going on between Bond and Cole is a personal vendetta...and they can battle it out. Which leaves me with...one person, I suppose.”

Max: “Samuel Hessingstock. I swear, I’ve heard that dudes name before...”

Hannah: “Premier WC. He was on the Premier WC roster...we never crossed paths, in fact I’m almost sure I was on my way out when he was on his way in...however, Simcoe is not the first wrestling company where we’ve been sharing the same oxygen supply.”

Hannah stood up again, and stared down at her feet. She was not wearing heels. It was a strange feeling she could just not get used to. The wrestling boots wrapped around her feet felt foreign.

Hannah: “I guess, he’s the only person in this match without some personal vendetta for the others. Well...not as intense a vendetta it seems. I guess, we have history. Indirect, but still history. So while everyone else is off distracted, taking care of each other...we’ll be in that ring, wrestling to see which person is better.”

Max: “Is that a competitive streak seeping in?”

Hannah: “No, that’s the reality of it Max. He’s not going to want to let me win. Hell, I can’t blame him for not wanting me to make any kind of an impression. I’ve seen some of his stuff before; he’s one of the most talented people out there. It’s intimidating, very intimidating. Kip Kutler wouldn’t even know how to deal with this guy. Which makes me think...what business do I have being in the ring with him?”

“He’s going to drag me through the mud until I’m covered in it.”

“I’m just so in over my head right now...my second match back after an almost career ending injury...and I’m stuck with five of the most talented people this roster has to offer.”

Hannah rubbed her eyes, and looked at herself in the mirror again.

Hannah: “I feel like over indulging in MAC and Marc Jacobs just so I can feel safe.”

Max walked up behind Hannah and chuckled.

Max: “That can be instantly sorted if you want it that badly.”

Hannah: “Then all it would take is a caramel frappucino and some deceit, and Miss Rickman would be back and in control.”

Max: “That girl was a monster.”

Hannah: “Yeah...you’re right. Bad idea.”

Smirking, Max whispered into her ear.

Max: “But she was my monster.”

Hannah stared into the mirror again, unsure exactly how to react to his comment.

-------------------------

See that? Even the man you love wants me back little miss Hannah bell. You want to play this game of little lost girl, scared she’s never going to be as good as she once was? The act is getting old already, you’re making me bored. Hannah, I know you better than anyone. Stop it. Just stop it now. I’ve seen you end careers...I’ve seen you end LIVES...figuratively speaking, of course. Or am I? Remember, I know all of your secrets.

I am you.

Miss Rickman is the real you. Not this nice little girl from the outskirts of Atlanta. Stop wasting your damn energy.

------------------

Hours later, the only sound Hannah could hear was the breathing of Max lying in the bed beside her. He was deep asleep, something Hannah wished she could be too. Staring up at the ceiling, all of her thoughts running through her mind, she just wished she could find an answer.

Hannah: “Pride...or victory...”

Hannah closed her eyes, hoping she could fall asleep, but all that kept playing through her mind, was what she once was.

Hannah: “Hannah Rickman can’t win this match...at least, I don’t think I can. But Miss Rickman...”

She opened her eyes again.

Hannah: “No, I’m not going to be her again. I’m better than that.”

------------------

Better than what? Better than being yourself? Please, give me a break. I you, I’m more you than you are right now. I’d walk into that match and do everything in my power to make sure I walked out the winner.

Anything.

Morals don’t stand for jack shit in this day and age. It’s not about who’s right and who’s wrong, it’s about who gets the job done the best. I’m the best.

Hannah Rickman? Chump. Miss Rickman? Champion.

That’s always the way it’s been, and that’s the way it will stay. Remain as you are, and remain mediocre for the remainder of what will be a very short Simcoe career. Let Miss Rickman...correction, let the real you take over, and you’ll not only have a long career, but you’ll be carrying around more gold and winning more matches than you could have ever dreamed.

Victory over pride.

Learn that lesson, and you’ll be set.

-----------------------

Closing her eyes again, Hannah could feel them sting. She was beyond tired now, and she hoped she could finally fall asleep.

Hannah: “Pride...”

Fade.

[Samuel Hessingstock]

[Sam’s Apartment, Aurora, Ontario, Canada.]

Funeral For a Friend’s “All the Rage” blares out over my radio as I sit in a fleece white leather recliner chair, thinking about the past events that had led me to this point in my life. Arguments after arguments, confrontations until I had actually forgotten how to spell the word confrontation...they raged over a span of eight years, and it all started with one championship match.

My first ‘big’ title for me was the important one. It was that first chance to prove exactly what I was capable of and beating a man who I considered to be the best in the business at that time, Dylan Scott, aka the mentor of Aaron Blaize, would be the best way to do that.

‘Why do we need this? Who was it that said that great things come to great men?’

I often wonder the same myself. I went through eight years of hoping something good would come, and I went through it in such a way that would make anyone think I was a saint. She cost me that match in the end, distracting the referee while I became the first man to ever make Dylan Scott tap out. That’s something I can’t forget. She was the love of my life and she ruined it all because she was jealous of this career of mine.

“Well that f***er lied to us, there’s nothing here but wasteland...”

Sure enough, there’s nothing but wasteland and the thoughts that have passed now. Around about nine months have passed since I told her I wanted her out of my life and I wanted a divorce. Eight months have passed since the paperwork was finalized and since she took half of everything I owned. Six months have passed since I lost my way and found myself back in the United Kingdom wrestling and five months since I found myself in Simcoe after an accident in ring. Around about three months ago I found myself back in Simcoe after a short tour, and since then I’ve  been thrown from pillar to post.

I started off being hounded by Damion Darkside but that went awry when Darkside failed to show up for a match and he was fired for it. I straggled my way around the ring, not really picking up wins, not really doing a whole lot if I must be honest.

Then Robyn came back to me and things started to look up. I found a solid team in myself and Chris, I worked hard for the wins and I dominated the Unholy Trinity on my own...and then the championships were vacated. Left out in the cold again, with not another set of contenders in sight, I begin to wonder if this is to be my fate – to be the one that starts something but has the chance ripped away from him just when the final hurdle seems climbable.

Then it happened...last week I found myself happily guiding my way through one of the backstage corridors...


The Assailant.

[Channel “A” Studios]

My match was scheduled; I was excited for it to say the least. Chris Champion in my mind was a guy that I had always wanted to target, to have the chance to go against one on one. We have both done so much within our career and this was the perfect chance to show each other how we do things with our own respective styles...but that was ripped away from me by Justin Rose at the start of the week. He rang me, telling me that my services would not be required that week and I shouldn’t bother showing up...I had no idea why, I just took it on the chin but decided turning up and saying something about the Trinity would be the best move.

Tracking down Anita would be my first job...

“Mykey, you seen ‘Nita anywhere?” I almost bumped into Myke as he left the communal locker room.  I think he was on his way to his Barbaric match with Blaize. He didn’t answer, not even so much as a headshake...Blaize’s games had got to him. For months this poor guy was subject to humiliation and harassment from the ‘antithesis’ and the latest stunts had included ‘banning’ Myke from his friends, getting him to shun away myself, Galactix and Scarlett and then kidnapping Ian and Becky with the aid of Dynasty. It’s no wonder why he ignored me completely...

I wasn’t going to chase. I figured it would be easier to just ask someone else. Someone who might know and someone who wasn’t so distracted by the cruelty of men...and then I found him. He wasn’t in the best of spots himself, he and Chris Bond had been brawling, but he had got the upper hand...or so it seemed. With staff surrounding him, questioning him, I walked in amidst the carnage. A broken Bond on the floor, I headed straight to the “soldier of fortune” and nodded in his general direction.

A man can communicate in a series of nods. From a young age we find this and we use it from adolescence to later life until we reach our older age. He understood what I meant, before I piped up...”Anita Naylor...you know where she is?” He nodded again, throwing his head off to the right, down a small corridor. Perfect, she had gone down here; I could catch up to her, have a chat, an interview and have it broadcast in minutes.

I just about caught up to her after a small power-walk down the hallway. I just about touched her shoulder when something touched the back of my head. She carried on walking and it didn’t touch...it went more like Wallop!

I crumpled to the floor as something heavy connected to the back of my head. My knees first connected to the hard concrete as the item struck me again, drawing blood from the back of my head this time. I fell forwards, landing on my face just for long enough for a boot to connect to the side of my head and roll me over. Shot after shot hit me, I remember the first two...and that was all.

It was Chris Champion, the man who was supposed to be my opponent for the night that found me there. He was in outright shock at the fact that someone had attacked me and it was Myke who stumbled into the scene. I remember opening my eyes just for a second to see these two there, looking at me in disgust, looking at the state I was in and wanting to get their hands around the rat bastard that did this to me.

It took a few hours for me to come around to my senses fully in the EMT wing. The show was long over and the EMT’s were all talking about the show...next to me in the wing was that good ol’ friend of mine once again. Myke had been virtually destroyed at the hands of Blaize, and Becky was in a bed next to him. Whatever happened could not have been good, the docs were talking of moving them up to the main general hospital in Simcoe.

“Just need to check that stitching...” one of the docs walked up to me, blue gloves donned on hands in order to protect me and him from possible infection. He poked around at my head...God it was sore.

“Good, healing nicely...okay, Sam, how many fingers am I holding up?” He held up three. My vision was fine, I repeated the amount back to him and he nodded, confirming I was right.

“Vision isn’t impaired...you seem fine Sam. I’m happy to clear you for next week...” He tells me, as if that’s the biggest of my worries.

“Did anyone...?” I get cut off before I get the chance to fully ask my question.

“Sorry. No-one has a clue who did it and it’s outside of the camera zones in the building so no footage was caught.” I sigh as he tells me this...someone stopped me from getting a message across, and I for one would like to know who...so that I can shove the item they hit me with so far down their throat that they’ll be sitting on whatever the object is for the rest of their lifetime.

Yes, there are possible suspects and yes we’re all guessing them; Aaron Blaize, any member of Dynasty, the Unholy Trinity...those are the expected ones. I don’t know who did this to me, but I swear, when I find them...they’re up shit creek without a paddle.


[Sam’s Apartment, Aurora, Ontario, Canada]

I run my hand across my head, the stitches in my head still not fully healed. A wound has been left and like any wounded animal would so wish, I desire revenge. Who against though...that’s the question.

After my comments on my blog last week about Blaize, I could well imagine it being him. He’s the type to take more and more away from someone, even when they have nothing or not a whole lot. I commented about Michaela Rose...and I still stand by them.

Just like I stood by my convictions back in Indy X. I told Rachel I knew about something and I knew she was hiding something. Everyone thought I was paranoid, they thought me to be worried about losing her, I knew otherwise – she knew something that would tear us apart. I was looking for the excuse for years to find a way out of it and after she started to hide something...well I figured I could take that reasoning.

Little did I know she would find her way into lying about a pregnancy. She told me she was pregnant and the child was mine. This was over nine months ago now, but only just – I was shocked and started to think about retiring...and then she started to act more and more shady. Blaize eventually showed me the “light” and showed me just how pregnant she was by dropping her with the Trail Blaizer there and then...somehow the baby survived this, and somehow she did too. She does seem mentally scarred though, enough to go and be with Aaron.

I don’t know what to think about this, honestly. The more I think it must be Aaron’s, the more I think back to the ever convincing lie. The more I think it’s Aaron’s, the more I wonder, and wouldn’t he want to be with his daughter instead of terrorising people week in, week out?

‘I’m sick and tired of always being the good guy...’

Sometimes you just have to bite the bullet I guess and do your job. Sometimes you just can’t be the good guy and be the family man, sometimes people get thrown in your way and you end up doing what you ‘have’ to do. I guess this is how Blaize will vindicate himself and I’m assuming that if that was his handiwork at Aggression...well...that’s how he’ll justify himself.

It really could be just about anyone though, being honest about it. Besides, that’s only the start of my problems...this week presents a bigger problem. A tag team match with three teams; these three teams are all completely manufactured just to be a part of this week’s show. My normal team is broken and I have to try to team with a man that I have barely said two words to, and nodded to twice. This won’t be easy, not by any means.

Just as I start to think about the match, in walks Robyn. She’s wearing a white top and black, frilled miniskirt...amazing, just amazing. It makes me think that throwing away that relationship with Rach really was the best thing for me. She smiles at me and I can’t help but chuckle.

“What’cha laughing at?” She asks in her own quicky way, almost trying to merge all four words that should be singular, together.

“Nothin, just you.” I reply, a wide grin on my face. She pretends to look offended before coming back at me with, “Lil’ ol’ me?”

I laugh again, and nod, before she asks me, “Sooo what’cha doin? How’s your head?” She doesn’t give me the chance to answer the first question before asking the second, it’s almost like she’s frightened she’ll forget what she’s going to ask if she doesn’t ask it immediately.

“Bit sore but yeah...not bad ta.” I reply about the head. “Thinkin’ of cutting a promo...not sure yet.” I reply to the former question.

“Thinkin’ bout it? Why?” She asks, baffled.

“Just dunno, not sure if I’ve got it in me.” I’ve been thinking too much about other things, but she doesn’t need to know this, I think.

“Oh come on! I’ll film ya...” She says, trying to coax me on as she turns towards the coffee table, picking up the small black handicam before pointing it on me. “You know you wanna...” She coaxes me on, almost teasing me, liking her bottom lip as she does so before shooting me another cheeky grin.

“Maybe lat...” She interrupts me.

“Awww, what’s up? Too chicken to cut a promo against a woman, a guy you’ve beaten in a tag match before,  a guy that’s so greedy he’ll be looking past you and directly towards the paycheck, and a guy who’s hell bent on getting a guy to have a rematch with him?” She really is coaxing me now and the more I think about it, the more I think that at some point...she COULD make a good manager, with the right training.

“Fine.” I reply. “Let me grab a drink of water first...throat’s a bit dry.”


The Shoot – A war of three sides

Hess: A war...an army...it’s almost like we’re taking stands at the battle of the Alamo with this match. A three way tag team match – I’m not that keen if I’m honest, I never have been. Too many people make it so hard to focus on just one person, and you constantly have to watch your back. A win can be taken from you at any second by anyone. Having a win taken from you though is better than having your consciousness taken from you by a coward...

Which brings me onto today’s focus. See, I’m feeling like I really owe...someone...some form of penance, ya’ know? SOMEONE took the liberty to attack me last week and I have no idea who it was. That bastard will pay when I get my hands on them...the riddle to be solved though, is who would be cowardly enough to do something like that?

I take a look at the people in this match...and I wonder about one of them. The rest seem clean in my book...I mean, Galactix wouldn’t. Not a shadow of a doubt on me there, ‘Tix has cleaned up his act since the days gone by of revealing himself from under that mask. He’s worked with the Simcoe Sweetheart and even against me and claimed I’ve got this anger problem...’Tix, you would too if you were in my shoes. You would too if you had been through ANYTHING like what me or Myke have...you’re LUCKY.

You got away with it ‘Tix. You got away from the Era of Aaron, you got away from it by joining with The Syndicate. The worst you had was a girl not being able to make up her mind whether she wanted to be with you or with a sleaze-ball...add a baby into the mix and you’re only a BIT of where I am mentally. ‘Tix, not targeting me this week is a GREAT idea on your part...because right now, the way I’m feeling right now, the first person to cross me WILL get their head ripped off their bloody shoulders.

Since finding out about Michaela Rose, it’s all I can think of. The way Blaize is with children...you’ve seen him just this week in one of his little candid’s...he’s NOT by ANY means fit to be a father. The woman he’s had that child with is MY ex-wife, someone who meant a LOT to me...she would do, I was with her for long enough. That woman LIED to be about her being pregnant, she said she was when she wasn’t and then JUST as Blaize went to leave, the damage already done, he drove her head RIGHT into the canvas in a ring, right before my eyes. Can you imagine it ‘Tix? You try telling me that after that, you wouldn’t have issues curbing your temper?

Then imagine my stand point from last week, please. See, here I am, trying to find Anita. I’m trying to get a message across to the Trinity and to whoever is going to face myself and Stern for the Heritage titles and then...wham! I get taken out. I get left on the floor, blood gushing from my head...I know this happened after our last tag match encounter ‘Tix, but still...you wouldn’t blame me if I shouted, ranted and raved, would you?

‘Tix, the thing is, I know things have changed. I know you’re claiming you’ve changed and you’re a better man. So far I’m seeing it, and far be it for me to get in your way when you go to rip J.T Cash a new dispensing hole...and take that as you want to ‘Tix, but for one second, I want you to take a look at who you’re facing.

Sure, you gave me a win last time by attacking Atreides but you should know yourself dude; help is the LAST THING I need. I mean just look at what I did to the Unholy Trinity...my actions in beating them singlehandedly made Diamond think and now those tag titles are back on Simcoe ground...all over thirty day clause. I think that’s only one part of it, Diamond saw that our ‘tag champs’ weren’t really...worth keeping as champs if one man can beat two of them...and yes, I will take the blame for that thank ya’ very much, and just like Miss Rickman, I’m PROUD enough to admit it.

Hannah, Hannah, Hannah. It was you that initiated the talk of armies and how Me, Cole, Bond and Cash opposing you and ‘Tix as a team would seem to be the equivalent of facing an army...thing is, I have no interest in working with Cole or Cash. As long as Rose is saying those two will make a good team, I’m as far against them as possible...

Thing is though Han, your talk of armies and war got me thinking. It got me thinking about whoever it was that buried a weapon in the back of my head last week...it got me thinking that it will take an entire army, not JUST four people opposing me to stop me from finding whoever it was. It will take in fact, MORE than an army; it’ll take an entire battalion. I don’t PLAN on stopping...because as long as the search goes on, for as LONG AS IT TAKES to find the fucker that decided attacking me would be a good idea...I WILL NOT STOP. I will not be beaten down and you know what Han, I WILL NOT BE BEATEN. If I have to plough through Simcoe’s latest great acquisition then so be it, I don’t care the cost or the consequence...SOMEONE will pay. Do you understand where I’m coming from?

If you do...then you’ll understand what happened back in the U.K, when we were in Premier. I was there, HAPPILY going about my career when it was significantly shortened by someone’s STUPID actions, telling someone else to attack on command. By this point Han, I don’t remember if you were still in the company or not, all I remember was being brought here to Simcoe and spending five months in HOSPITAL. Regaining cognitive faculties, being ‘brought back to life’...Hannah, do you get where I’m coming from here?

Let me explain...I had to undergo a full on personality overhaul. Everything I ever knew about me was gone; I was FORCED into doing what you’re trying so hard to do. You’re trying to be this shining star, but Han, do you know what it is they say about polishing turds? That fiancée of yours sure is making it hard for you to be what you’re trying so hard to be, isn’t he? Some things will never change...even if you’re trying hard not to cheat and be the ‘little bitch’ you was...something will always drag you down. Something will always make you resort to being what you least want to be. It’s the rule of life Han, SOMETHING will always drag you down...and it’s up to you to deal with that. Thing is, with you in this match being the only female, I KNOW he’ll be there and SOME form of string will be pulled. He’ll do something and you’ll snap at him again...

But he’s only trying to help. What do you want to do Han? Have a go at the guy and he’ll feel like you’re snapping for no reason, let him do it though and you’re not being allowed to be who you want to be. You’re being someone else’s envisioning of you. Must suck to be you in that situation...

Then again Han, could suck worse, couldn’t it? Could suck to be you on the end of a win against Kip Kutler then be on the end of a loss in a three team tag match...thing is, it can happen. Very easily, especially when you’ve got the teams ahead of you that you have...I’m no stranger to tag team wrestling and Cole is an absolute machine in the ring...then there’s Cole and Cash.

As much as I can’t stand these guys, they’ve got talent, you’ll agree won’t you Han? Cole is our very own Legacy champion and his legacy has been cemented in Simcoe County...his legacy to pass on to bond Jr. in years and years to come is well...cheating always prospers. Hell, Bond’s legacy could go onto say provoking an enemy is the best way of winning...

Congrats on making Cole snap completely and beat you into obscurity. I’m sure you’ve really won a whole lot, what’s the plan now? Get Rosie to tell Cole that he can’t have a shot and he’s suspended for the actions taken against you last week? Would be pretty much the logical move from you now, wouldn’t it...I mean this is EXACTLY what Chris Bond does. Gotta’ be honest, I don’t get why you’re not a part of Dynasty yet...

There’s something obviously they’ve seen about you that everyone else has missed. Something soft, something not quite fit for purpose...I mean you’re one hell of a technical wrestler, that match with Steele was fantastic...but maybe in a group full of men and women that want to tear heads off, a low blow and an eye rake aren’t quite seen as...professional.

Truth be told, those sort of moves strike me as...desperate. Bond, is that what you are? Are you REALLY a desperate man on the verge of collapse if you can’t get a win via illicit means? I mean I know, a win is a win is a win, but let’s be honest there are some things you do to get a win...and some things you just DON’T. There are rules in place for a reason, you never heard of the one which says shots cannot be to that area of a man?

Obviously you haven’t.

Actually come to think of it Bondage, you’re...perfect in this team with Cash, aren’t ya’? You’re both champions...congrats Cash on that win in NWA by the way...you’re both great athletes...you’re both...something else too. Let me think a second...hang on...almost there...oh yeah, I remember now, you’re both cheating, conniving rat-bastards. I mean COME ON, if either of you had ANY sense of decency, you’d see what you’re doing is just...SELFISH. But then again that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? You don’t CARE what happens to anyone else, so long as you get what you want...shame about that is, in the end, you ALWAYS end up getting what you deserve.

Bond, you wanna’ know what you deserve? You deserve the retribution that Joseph Cole exacted on you last week...and HELL, YOU DESERVE what’s to come this week. See Leg-champ, you’re getting in the ring with Galactix and Rickman against you on one team, and already I’m seeing something good there in terms of how they’re alike with trying to find themselves...and then you’re against me and Cole, a duo that want EXACTLY THE SAME THING...Retribution and revenge. We want the men who attack us to PAY with blood, we want them to suffer...but best yet, we want EXACTLY what JT Cash deserves...

We want those that attack us to feel HUMILIATION. Thing is, you guys, you attack based on the ideals of HUMILIATING your opponents, you can’t just WRESTLE a match; you think it’s better to make them feel so small. That’s why the attacks annoy me so much, THAT’S WHY SOMEONE is going to pay and Bond, if I find out you or Cash were behind it prior to this match, this week...so help me God, I will make sure you don’t MAKE IT to Blaze of Glory.

Not saying at all you should take responsibility for Cash’s actions but...I’m beginning to wonder if you will both actually be in the same ring at the same time this week because the way you two act...it sure is as if you’re one and the same person. I mean, you both attack people from behind, you both jump on bandwagons with attacks and you BOTH cheat to gain EVERY POSSIBLE WIN YOU CAN! I mean Cash, the ONE WIN you hold over Scar is COMPLETELY tainted yet don’t you just LOVE to throw that in our faces?

Let me guess, your next line will be “Oh, Hess, I beat you too”...well news for you Cash; AGAIN that was tainted. What did you ACTUALLY do to get that win? Let’s see Atreides hit me with a set of brass knuckles and you clamber on top for a pin...it’s almost EVERY WIN you have is tainted by a cheapness to the win...all win but one. The one that mattered, the battle royale where you proved Simcoe isn’t just a hole in the ground; it’s a foundation for others to work from...

Now you’re the ONLY Television Champion in Simcoe history that we’ve recognised. Congratulations dude, seriously...but now the lions are at the door. EVERYONE will want a piece of JT Cash now and there’s only so many times a tainted win will get you by. Just wait until you get those challenges...man, it’s going to be explosive, isn’t it? You’ll be torn left, right and centre...that one win against Scar will almost mean nothing after everyone else is done with you.

But that’s a long time off now Cash, that’s until at least the next Tradition show in NWA...we need to focus on the here and now...

The here and now is that I don’t trust that you’re not behind these attacks that are going on. The here and now Cash, is you’ve already claimed you want to stop me and Stern from getting the tag belts and the here and now is...I’m going to treat you, in that ring, just as if you were the man that tried to take my head off backstage. What that means for you Cash, is not only do you have the laser sight of Galactix on your forehead but you also have me as well and the MOMENT me and you end up tagged in at the same time, you BETTER PRAY you can get a tag out as soon as possible because there is NO WAY I will be going easy on you.

All of the times you’ve cheated to get a win...all of the times you’ve claimed you’re better than everyone else because of those tainted wins...Cash, you’re gunna’ pay. At Aggression, it’s time to pay the piper and it’s time to feel a bitter sting in your bones as I take you down and out. If it won’t be me, just remember, the man you’ve REALLY pissed off more than anyone else in the world right now is in this match with us...just think about your actions before you do them.

That goes to all of you...this week is no easy challenge, no easy mountain to climb. On one hand, Galactix, a man who knows teamwork tags with a woman who is used to selfishness...one another, two men obsessed with not ACTUALLY wrestling matches to get wins, men who are self obsessed...and on the other foot, there’s a Soldier of Fortune who looks as if he’s ready to shoot to kill and a Scorpion who is driven to find a man who attacked him backstage in cold, callous cowardliness as well as winning tag team gold. 

This team may well be temporary, but our pride in where we are from, our pride in Simcoe, our pride in OURSELVES is NOT...and we WILL be the team to stand above the other two teams if anything just due to this shared goal.

So yeah, while I don’t like this sort of match, I trust this team will be more than enough to stop a cheap roll-up or an illegal chair hit. I trust it will be enough to stop a partner interfering or someone giving a win to someone else...I trust this team of ours will last and will rise above the other two...

With that said, only one thing is left to be said. Cash, Bond, Rickman and ‘Tix...

Jigoku, sore ga hitsuyoo ni nari masu shit te iru kami ni yakudatsu kanoo sei gaari masu.

Seriously now...good luck to all four of you...because it isn't just Galactix in this match that you should fear...

Robyn closes the camera up, and lets off an excited shiver. “Sam...” She says, not quite knowing what to add to it. “All of the stuff with Rachel that you said...is that the stuff that was...stopping you?”

I nod, allowing my head to hang after.

“ ‘Shoulda’ said...silly!” She comes back at me. “I get that it’s hard, it’s gunna be...I think I have a solution though...for now at least...”

She looks at me, her eyes fixed at me as she saunters across the room and pushes my arms out of the way before she sits on my lap, both legs apart as she straddles on top of me. Maybe...this will help me take my mind off things?

[jt]

[J.T. Cash smirks, looking down at the lifeless form of Dexter, the crowd on their feet. Something seems off, as Cash pulls Dexter up and tucks his head between his legs before spiraling up and over with a vile, and just nasty flipping piledriver! The Canadian Destroyer he calls Zero Gravity! Cash makes a half assed pin as the referee pounds the man with an expression of concern.]

Ryan Antonelli - Um, I think Dexter is really fudged up in there. If that leg drop dog didn’t do it, that flipping piledriver did. He’s out like yesterday’s garbage!

Johnny Wilkins - I agree, Cash may have took it too far… here comes Justin Rose with some EMTs… This does not look good at all.

[Justin Rose remains outside the ring, shouting orders at the EMTs and such as J.T. Cash passes by him, Cash wearing a smug grin as he hoist his NeWA World‘s TV title high and ignores the disdain raining from the crowd. Justin glances at Cash, before giving his attention back to the EMTs and Dexter.]



With a click of the stop button the tape player halted and on screen the paused image of Dexter being wheeled away by EMT’s left a sickening reminder of what had happened last week on Monday Night Aggression. Sitting back in a black leather recliner with a flute of champagne in his right hand, he looked confident, he looked calm, his arrogance certainly shined through... Cash certainly had no look of regret over his actions that had seemingly put Dexter on the sidelines. He gazed towards the camera crew and chuckled, adjusting the collar on his designer shirt as he whipped off his shades and tossed them on to the glass table in front.

-| J.T.Cash |-
You know it’s getting boring, seriously really god damn boring...

Cash shakes his head as a he takes a long sip of champagne before placing the flute on the table. Cash leans on his hand and smirks

-| J.T.Cash |-
Week after week after week I sit here and tell you exactly what’s going to happen. Week after week I sit here in front of a fat ass camera man who wishes he was in Taco Bell, a failed film maker of a soundman and some intern who wishes she could have three seconds alone time with the greatest superstar in professional wrestling, and yes week after week I sit here and tell you idiots exactly what is going to happen on Monday Night Aggression. I mean seriously how many times have I got to tell you people that when J.T.Cash makes a promise you might as well take it to the bank, I said I was going to beat Scarlett Willis YOUR Heavyweight Champion, and I did. I said I was going to become the National Wrestling Alliance Television Champion, and there is a strap over there that has my name on it. I said I was going to make an impact and guess what people I made two, one on the head of Atreidis and one across the noggin of your Welterweight Champion... But you see that's not all of it because last week I sat here and told you people that I was going to make an example of Dexter and I presume you all saw what happened to that piece of trash. Maybe now Simcoe... for your sake, just maybe...

Cash leans forward in his seat getting closer to the camera lens as if he is talking to each and every viewer

-| J.T.Cash |-
...i’ve got your attention. See last Monday Night I put Dexter on the shelf, last Monday night I took Dexter to hell and left him there. Believe me, I didn’t do it for the greater good of SCCW, I didn’t do it for any of you idiots and I certainly didn’t do it for the likes of Justin Rose... I did it because I could, I did it because I wanted to send a message to the whole of Simcoe County, I did it because I wanted your Welterweight Champion to sit up and realise that J.T.Cash could be the end of his career.

The mere words brought a wry smile from the NWA Television Champion, his eyes gleamed with intent as he took a long sip of his drink

-| J.T.Cash |-
Sounds good don't it, J.T.Cash ending the career of the great Galactix... See I hope you were watching last week Galactix, I hope you were paying close attention to one half of the tag team champions being carted away to hospital, I hope you were watching as EMT’s swarmed over him, securing his neck, checking his pulse and rushing him to hospital... I hope that you were watching because Galactix, it was a message to you. Dexter is currently recuperating because I felt like sending a clear message to you G, he’s wearing a neck brace because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time... It’s that simple Galactix, I don't just want to take your title I want to take you apart, I want to make the biggest impact of my career by taking a Simcoe County hero and breaking him... That’s right Galactix, you are my stepping stone... you are the name on my record that catapults me to greatness, it’s the impact that I am looking for and an impact that WILL be shown around the wrestling world. You Galactix, are my permanent ticket out of this cesspit... taking you to hell is going to be the one thing that gets the name J.T.Cash noticed on a national stage and believe me, the minute that happens I am out of Simcoe County and the inbred morons that supports peons like you...

Cash snarls, his distaste for Simcoe County had never been a secret but his plans to get noticed... well they were not going to be popular

-| J.T.Cash |-
So Galactix here’s your choice... you continue to run this path with J.T.Cash and you may just join Dexter on the sidelines or... you do the sensible thing and hand J.T.Cash the SCCW Welterweight Championship, you tell the world that J.T.Cash is just too damn good and you tell those peons who cheer you that they aren’t important enough to get an ass kicking for. I won’t need a lucky charm, I won’t need for luck to shine down on me... luck is for losers who can’t get by on skill and class.. Tell me Galactix, do I look like I need any luck... I live the type of life that you and every other moron in Simcoe only wishes they could lead, whilst your dancing between two hookers trying to please them I am living a life that means women only dance for me.... Luck doesn’t shine on those who oppose Galactix? That’s fine I didn’t plan on using any luck to get the job done... think about it Galactix, handing over that title could be the best move for your career... think about it

Cash winks smugly towards the camera, as he relaxes back holding the flute of champagne, he sighs and holds it towards the camera

-| J.T.Cash |-
...but hey G, I’ll let you decide that for now you know we’ve got a match this Monday night, and whilst we’re talking about this I guess it’s only right that I personally welcome Hannah Rickman to Simcoe County. Welcome Miss Rickman...

Cash holds his glass as if to toast the returning Rickman, Cash had indeed noticed her the week before. Sitting back in his designer shirt and trousers his confidence exuded his every pore

-| J.T.Cash |-
Welcome to a company that does nothing but hold you back, welcome to a company that celebrates mediocrity, welcome Miss Rickman to a company that frowns on greatness. See Hannah I can’t claim to know everything about you, I can’t claim to have followed your history and hell we aint stepped foot in to the same company until now but I’ve heard the talk, I’ve seen the tapes and I know some history... Look around you Hannah Rickman, its first class all the way. If it aint the best then it doesn’t come in to my house... now I tell you this because Hannah, you know what it’s like... You’ve once stood in my position, you had the class, you knew the riches that life can bring to people in our position. You had the designer labels, you drank champagne, you rode in limo’s and you dined at the top tables. Miss Rickman, you once lived the life that I pride myself on living... question is Hannah, what happened? Because all I saw was a woman who used to have all of that, there is no doubt Hannah that you’re the first person to make J.T.Cash raise an eyebrow, you’re the first woman in Simcoe County to get the Cashman’s attention but Miss Rickman I want to know why? Why give up the high life? Why give up the classier side of life? Why would you look at stooping so close to the level of a gutter slut like Scarlett Willis, Hessingstock’s Whore or either of Galactix’s hookers, it’s a shame. It’s a shame because I see that gleam in your eyes, I know that right now your sitting next to that Max idiot and looking at the highlife with fondness, I know that you’re thinking what if, I know that your looking at me sitting here with that warm feeling in your stomach... I know that because Hannah Rickman I know class when I see it. It’ll be such a shame to watch you stand next to a loser like Galactix, I dare you to better yourself, I dare you to live the life you were born to lead... all of this can be yours again Miss Rickman, all the riches, the diamonds, the designer labels, champagne and chauffer driven cars can be yours... this Miss Rickman is a part of Simcoe County that Simcoe County could only dream about having..

Cash looks around and smirks, he places down the flute of champagne and then pours himself another glass as the bubbles raise to near the top. Cash winks towards the camera

-| J.T.Cash |-
I’ll put a bottle on ice for when you make the right decision Hannah Rickman...But where as someone like you can be saved from taking the wrong path there is one man who is frankly beyond help. Sam Hessingstock...

Cash winces and shakes his head

-| J.T.Cash |-
Selfish... he calls me selfish... and honestly believes he is telling me something I don't know. Sam, newsflash for you... I’m as selfish as they come, I’m proud of The Modern Day Kings but if it meant making money and bettering myself then Rifle would be put in place. Fact is for J.T.Cash to be the best then there is nobody else in this company that matters, unless you can help J.T.Cash then frankly you aint worth the time of my day. Oh I’m selfish and a hell of a lot more, lets take you good self for instance Sam...Frankly I couldn’t give two shakes of a monkey’s tail if you love me or hate me, unless you can help me, unless you can offer something to J.T.Cash then your nothing more than an obstacle. This business is about making money Hessingstock, this aint about kissing babies, getting cheers and playing Mr Niceguy it’s all about the money and believe me Sam, I aint interested in dime’s and cents... J.T.Cash came to Simcoe County to run the ropes and better himself, there is a NWA Television Title that says I’ve done that... now all I am here to do is make money until the big boys come calling. That selfish enough for you little man

Cash had reeled off his words with speed and a direct intensity

-| J.T.Cash |-
How about we take your tag team partner... does the simple fact that I find the fact that Chris Bond has reduced him to a wreck absolutely hilarious offend you? So I guess you can add careless to selfish and whilst you’re at it why don't you just go add words like arrogant, cocky and brash to that list but Sam Hessingstock you better make sure you add the footnote that J.T.Cash is THE fastest rising star in professional wrestling, you had better mention that I have made impact after impact after impact, you had better mention the TV title that I have, you had better mention the fact that I have the wrestling worlds eyes on Simcoe County for the first time in its history and Sam guess what... I couldn’t give a damn if you think my achievements are tainted or not, my bank manager doesn't care if they are tainted, the blonde that I spent last night didnt think I was tainted and give your girl half the chance and even she can see how tainted J.T.Cash can really be...

Cash let a sickly smile run over his face as he broke in to a slight chuckle

-| J.T.Cash |-
Sam... I’m freaking J.T.Cash... I don't care what you think about me, this Monday night you have a chance to do something about it and as tainted as you may think I am you will realise that I am every bit as good as I say I am... Besides lets be honest, I look to my corner and I will see Chris Bond, not just the champion but the man who has got in to your tag team partners mind like nobody thought possible. See I’ve watched Chris Bond go to work like an artist, ‘How to get in to your enemies mind 101’ has been written by Chris Bond and no matter what your boy does Hessingstock he will never get back when he’s lost... Its beautiful, hell I’m pretty pissed off I didnt come up with something like this myself. See I look to my corner and I have confidence, I see a man who has every single tool in the book... you look in to your corner and you’re going to see a wired, mentally unstable screw up. The Coletrain has been derailed and hell knows if he’s ever going to find the tracks again, and that's your backup Hessingstock? Good luck. Simcoe County hasn’t stopped talking about the beat down on Bond all week, let me ask you Joseph...

Cash leant forward once more, his tone was a lot more hushed as if whispering to Joseph Cole

-| J.T.Cash |-
...how does it feel to be going further and further away from the man you want to be? How does it feel to know that everytime Chris Bond gets in to your brain you react like the man you never wanted to be? Face it Cole, Bond has had your number since day one and this Monday night I am sure it will be no different and if by some miracle you take Bondo out then you’ve still got to go through me... and just like the others J.T.Cash is everything you...will...never...ever...

Cash winked slinking back in to his seat with the glass of champagne toasting the camera

-| J.T.Cash |-
...be...

Cash chuckled as the camera faded to black leaving the National Wrestling Alliance Television Champion to enjoy the rest of the night...

[/i]

[Benny Bunny]

The scene opens up North in Orillia where Galactix can be found relaxing in a piano bar. He is, of course, sat at the piano playing away to his heart's content during this quiet time. His hair appears to be have been recently trimmed, he looks freshly shaven and there's a hint of tan to his skin. Wearing his ripped at the knee jeans, a khaki coloured Che Guevara t-shirt, one of those that were popular years ago and his favourite orange beanie, Galactix sips from a glass of red liquid as he continues tickling the ivories.

Galactix:
End my career. Is that your goal, Cash?

A chuckle from the Welterweight Champion.

Galactix:
Forgive me, there's nothing funny about that. I was watching last week, man, as you destroyed the -former- tag team champion. As he was carted away on the stretcher ne'er to be seen from for a few weeks at least. Call it six weeks, you'll be sick and tired of trying to end my career by then, man. Bigger and better men than you have tried - but who am I to deny you the privilege of trying?

G-Funk pauses as he takes another mouthful of red liquid.

Galactix:
You live it up now, Cash. Enjoy your fancy life, your riches and your luxuries. Sip your champagne and ride in your limos, man. So shallow. If you can't get pleasure from some fine wine like some strawberry cream Mad Dog 20/20 and drive around in a Jetta with a smile on your face, somewhere in your life you took a wrong step .. Not at the same time, mind. I don't condone drink driving. Sit in the passenger seat with a paper plate and knock yourself out!

Another pause as Galactix plays the opening of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony for comic effect.

Galactix:
There's another hint that you've made a mistake in your life. The fact you claim you want to use me as your stepping stone. I believe Paul Revere and the Raiders said it best--maybe The Monkees, personally I'm undecided - but I'm not your stepping stone! I've never been anybody's stepping stone and I'm damn well not going to start now! You want to come after me, Cash, go ahead. I dare you. I'm not choosing the route you offered. I ain't backing down from you, Cash. I'm not handing that title over. I'm not having my career ended by a young punk life yourself. No offence. We'll clash, you may even get the upper hand on occasion. May win a battle, but there's no way you'll win the war! To paraphrase Charlton Heston, you can take this Welterweight Championship when you pry it from my cold dead hands you damn dirty ape! And you can end my career when the sun has burnt itself out ... To put it on a timescale you can comprehend. When hell has frozen over. When Aaron Blaize develops a conscience. When Sydney LaRoux st--

No. Tix stops himself mid sentence. The obvious slut joke that was coming just cuts a little close when he considers the dreams he has of her. He had another last night, then again, he should have known better than to watch 'Striptease' before going to bed. Hell, he should have known better than to watch 'Striptease', period.

Galactix:
As I was saying, bigger and better people then you have tried, Cash. Patrick McCarthy, Myke Adams, Chris Champion. They've all had the same thoughts that are running through your mind right now .. No, not Hannah Rickman's arse, get that out of your head and focus on the issue at hand, man. You want to end my career? Throw some more chair shots my way, man, because starting this week I'm fighting back--you didn't think it would be easy, not even you are that stupid!

A brief musical interlude as G-Funk starts his piano rendition of 'Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now'. He needs a minute to calm down...


~*~ Meanwhile, elsewhere ~*~

Adele is cautiously walking through the corridors of an apartment block. She's plucked up enough courage without having to resort to the Dutch variety to confront one of her problems head on. She knocks on the door and inhales sharply but, as the door opens, she's left almost speechless.

Jodi:
Hi, Adele...

Awkward.

Adele:
Um, is Tix in?

Jodi:
No. He's out shooting a promo at the moment. Can I pass a message on?

Adele:
No, it's okay. I kind of needed to speak to him in person.

Jodi:
I'm expecting him back soon, did you want to come in and wait for him?

Another pause. Adele is almost shocked at how cordial Jodi is being.

Adele:
Um, no, no ... Why are you being so nice?

Jodi looks confused.

Jodi:
I'm not angry at you, Adele. I know I probably should be, but he's forgiven you for everything you did to him ... What is there for me to be angry about?

Adele:
I don't know.

Jodi:
Then come in, I've got some wine we can open, give me a chance to finally get to know you. I mean I've been here for two months and I don't think we've ever really met.

A brief pause.

Adele:
Sure, why not.

She enter the apartment as the scene ends.


~*~ Back at the bar ~*~

Galactix has just finished his musical interlude and is taking a sip from his Mad Dog as the scene continues.

Galactix:
Lets not forget the other people in the match. Three way tag matches are so rare, I hardly get the chance to be around so many challengers. Teaming with Cash is the seemingly malevolent Chris Bond. I'm glad that trouble you got yourself in over Christmas - that incident - and you're channelling your crazy into something productive. Even if that is also destructive. And I'm glad you're targeting Joe Cole.

Pause.

Galactix:
Don't get me wrong, I'm not on your side, Bond. I'm glad you're targeting the Soldier of Fortune because I want to see him wipe that grin off your face in the same way I'm going to do to Cash. I want to see you get your just desserts ... And if that comes in the way of a Galactic Slam or Rickman Extraordinaire, even a Freeze Frame - as long as it's not Cole getting the pin. I'd like to be the one to pin you, Bond. I would. I know I can do it, I did a few weeks ago, but you probably don't need reminding of that.

He says with a cheeky grin.

Galactix:
And Samuel Hessingstock. 'The Scorpion', one of the most dangerous men in SCCW today. Trainer of the future generation of SCCW. You heaped the praise upon me, Sam, thank you. And I assure you it wasn't me that attacked you last week on Aggression. That isn't in me anymore, I have no reason to attack you. Unfortunately I can't help you with your search for the assailant. I'd tell you to look at Dynasty but that's like telling Bugs Bunny to be on the look out for Elmer Fudd ... It's Rabbit Season all year round as far as they're concerned and you know that, Sam.

G-Funk pauses again as he takes another sip of Mad Dog. It must be dry in the bar tonight.

Galactix:
Everything I can tell you, you already know, Sam. You know what I can do, you've seen me in the ring before. You know Hannah Rickman seemingly better than I do. And you've scoped out Bond and Cash like the predator I know you are ... What's left to tell you? What can I say that would be new to you? I'll tell you one thing; there is no Atreides this week. He's been replaced by the talented, beautiful, well-spoken Hannah Rickman, who by the way has an arse to die for...

Pause.

Galactix:
Too far. Sorry, Hannah, there are many positives I can say about you. I have no doubt that you are a capable wrestler, I know Miss Rickman was. I am placing my trust in you, I can lay no further praise on you than that. It is you and I against four of the top wrestlers in SCCW today. I'm up for the challenge.

He says with a wry smile before turning back to the piano. Warren Zevon's 'Lawyers, Guns and Money' plays us off as the scene ends.

[Shamrock]

Late on a Barrie night the snow swirls around a small apartment building.  A late March cold front has brought an unpleasant feeling to the night, a bite to the air that seems past its time.

Inside the small, spartan apartment a man sits in the darkness of his world.  He lets the silence swirl around him as if it were snow, and as if it could not leave him.  The man had been sitting this way for the entirety of the evening.  His legs were crossed on the floor, his breathing was measured, and his heart beat in a slow rythem with the world around him.  He had kept himself this way for so long because he knew that he needed to regain control of himself.  Complete control.  To do it, he knew what he had to do.  He had to finish these problems with Bond.

Joseph Cole, alone in the dark.  The picture of a brooding soldier, and an angry Marine.  He knew he had gone too far last week, but he was willing to do what he must.  If Joe had to become his father to beat Chris Bond, then he would accomplish his mission.  Galactix had been right.....he didn't want to know what Joseph Cole was thinking.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The scene opens on the rootop of the same small apartment complex.  Joe Cole stands with his back to the camera, facing out over one of the more poor sections of Barrie, Ontario.  The camera moves forward and around, giving a side view of the Soldier of Fortune.

"It's amazing what dies of silence and solitude can do for the mind."

Joe's hazel eyes don't leave the darkened city sprawled in front of him, flakes of snow falling as if the city is trapped in a little snow-globe that seems to find a place in nearly every home.  Joe sometimes wonders if that's where he lives, in a little world meant only to be shaken for the entertainment of others.

"No fans.  No training.  No friends.  It's easy to find out who you are and what you want in moments like that."

Joe's stare doesn't waver.  It's as if a hawk finally found a morsel of food on the ground below and wouldn't let the small rodent out of sight.

"I know that Bond thinks he won.  I know he considers goading me into attacking him some kind of sick victory.  Chris, I'm ready to finish this.  The next time I find you in front of me I'm going to make sure that it's in the ring, and everything is sanctioned.  When that day comes, Chris, I want you to know that I'll wipe that smile off of our face once and for all.  When I get another shot at you, Chris, I hope you know that my goal isn't to take your title anymore. It's to retire you."

Joe's words trail into the night, and he sits silently once more before speaking as if he's talking only to himself.

"Like Simcoe County needs degenerate alcoholics like him."

Finally, Joe turns to the camera.

"You know, I haven't felt like this in a long time, and I don't really know what to say.  I feel bad if I didn't give some kind of warning to the rest of the guys in this match on Monday.  Seriously, guys, if you find yourself in the ring with me you will know who I want.  Don't step in the middle of something you don't want.  Galactix, Rickman, Cash, guys.... just tag out."

Joe turns and begins walking back into the door he propped open.  Maybe Galactix was right on the money.  If he's keeping it this short, maybe nobody wants to know just exactly what Joe Cole is thinking.

[Bondo]

___________________________________________________________

This side of reality…
___________________________________________________________

It was the morning after one of the most vicious beatings I had ever received.

And honestly, I felt like shit. My back was in knots. My face was cut to pieces. A laceration under my eye that required about ten stitches made my face all sorts of black and blue. A cut down my right side about four inches long took about 34 stitches to close, and that wasn’t to say anything about the minor cuts and bruises. A fractured rib to top it all off, and I felt like I was flying high. Well, that was the pain medication the doctor prescribed to help with the whole breathing thing… but other than that, I FELT GREAT!

Yeah, that was sarcasm.

I slowly threw my feet over the side of the bed and cautiously sat up. The pain was excruciating and the thought of even getting out of bed made me want to just roll over and die.

Maybe my attempt at the ultimate mind game had backfired?

And as I sluggishly made my way into the bathroom, this last thought lodged itself deeper and deeper into my brain. Staring over myself, my eyes darted from each scrape, each cut, each speckle of dried blood. The light from the overhead fixture refracted the light through the tiny specs of glass still lodged in my skin and mangled in my hair.

Was it worth it?

Was it all for naught?

After spending most of the night mulling over the idea that I had failed in my ultimate goal, I inhaled softly and exhaled slowly… pushing all of the air out from my lungs.

No, it wasn’t all in vain. I had achieved in breaking down Joseph Cole. I had succeeded in turning him into  the very man, the only man, he loathed with all of his being. Joseph Cole was a mirror image of his father. Abusive, hate-filled, and angry at the world.

Sure, I was worse for wear, but let’s be honest. It isn’t about winning the battle. It was about ultimate victory.

I felt something tickle my throat and I began to cough.

Mission Accomplished, I thought.

Expelling the violent cough I noticed some blood in the bright white sink.

I smiled at myself, staring into the mirror.

A battered, bruised, and cut to pieces being… smiling, a bit of blood clinging to his teeth. The face of madness?

I couldn’t be bothered with semantics.

To the victor go the spoils, and I’m still standing. I had won the war.

___________________________________________________________

THE Promo…
___________________________________________________________

It was 19 minutes after midnight, the day prior to Monday Night Aggression. (For those wondering, yes I could have just said ‘nineteen minutes into Sunday, the day prior to a war unlike any other in recent memory…’ but I didn’t, so get off my balls!) Dressed in a black and white beanie, a charcoal gray peacoat, faded jeans and a pair of black boots, Chris Bond walked down the street. A late March cold-front had blanketed the city of Barrie in snow, and of course Chris was taking advantage of this. Growing up in Texas, Mr. Bond wasn’t fortunate enough to have snow every year. Yes, it’s awkward for a man who’s seen as vile and malicious to be filled with some sort of childhood amusement like snow, but it happens. He’s a person, so don’t act so shocked.

“Last week was about mind games. And as we can all see, I’m worse for wear. However, I’ll heal. What I did last week, I took the innocence that Joseph Cole has been able to cling on to for all these years… I took that innocence and I tore it to pieces. I took everything that was good and right, and I filled his head with hatred. And violence. And just the nasties. And you know what?”

Chris smiled and took in a decent breath, smiling with his exhale.

“I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I took Joseph Cole and I turned him into the one person he never wanted to become. I manipulated and molded Joseph Cole into the only man he ever hated with all of his heart and being. I turned Joseph Cole into a spitting image of his father.”

Coming to a street corner, Chris stops, looks around, and continues on. Remember children, always look both ways before crossing the street--and always wrap it before you tap it.

“I’ve won Joe. You can disagree all you like. You can try to embrace this idea that in becoming your father you can defeat me, but let’s be honest. You can’t beat me now Cole. You just can’t do it. I took a beating last week because I didn’t fight back. I took it like a man, and I made you into the one person you can’t even think of without getting this feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You’re lying to yourself, and it’s not good. Just admit that you’ve lost. We’ve already got a date with destiny. You and me, one on one, Blaze of Glory. This is your rematch. A guaranteed return match for the Legacy Title, a match that I personally asked for. Justin Rose wanted to revoke your title shot. The championship committee wanted your head. I quietly smiled and told Rose that it wasn’t that you deserved it. It’s just that I knew I had won. When you broke down and trembled and shook, I knew that you just didn’t have it. Your guilt. Your remorse. You just don’t have what it takes Joe. You failed in saving your mother, you failed in saving yourself. Joe, you lost. It’s as simple as that.”

In a brief moment, a street light blows, and Chris turns sharply to see pieces of glass falling mere inches behind him. This sudden jerk obviously causes some pain to his fractured rib and stitched up side. He clenches his fists and grinds his teeth. A long, drawn out inhale is followed by a slow exhale.

“I’ve heard it all week long. Hess and ‘Tix are hoping and praying that I get put in my place. Both men despise me as a human being, and both men can’t wait to step up and try and knock me down a few levels.

I’ve been accused of doing anything to win; that cheating isn’t beneath me. Yeah, so? I’m supposed to take offense to this? Hessingstock said it himself… a win’s a win’s a win. Sure, it’d be nice to showoff my technical skills every once in a while, and sure, I’ve done it. But ya know what? Being technically sound can’t always guarantee you a win. So you come prepared. You do what you have to do. I don’t need their approval. I don’t need for them to respect me as a human being.

I really don’t have much to say. I’m unfamiliar with Hannah Rickman as a competitor, Samuel’s too busy kissing ass and suckling the teat of the Suicidal Superman… and Galactix? He’s got his hands full with the Cashman. Speaking of, I’ve just got to say, congrats Cash, you’ve done what, let’s be honest, not even Myke Adams or Aaron Blaize have done. You went out, and you surpassed all the expectations of what everybody had for you. You’re the shooting star Cash, and you’re the future of this business.

I guess what I’m saying is, it’s anybody’s ballgame. Wars are being waged, battles will be fought, casualties will be had. It’s the circle of life, and Monday Night, there’s no exception.”

Chris is finally able to stand back up, having hunched himself over after aggravating his injuries sustained last week… and when his eyes come back into focus, they show nothing. No emotion, just deep blue eyes piercing the soul. Not as ice-blue as Blaize, but let’s be honest, he’s pure evil. Chris Bond’s just an asshole.

“Cole, bring your best, because it’s just not going to cut it. You can’t beat me. The sooner you admit it to yourself, the sooner you’ll come to peace with being a complete failure.

Consider your reality checked.”

Chris just shrugs a little, smirks a wee bit, and just heads off down the street. Having gained an hour mere moments ago, the narrator for this thing is really very tried, and let’s be honest now, you guys lost interest probably mere moments into this promo. But hell, who am I to judge? As the moon creates a dark, shadowy outline of the silhouette of the current Legacy Champion, one can only question… is Chris Bond riding into battle guns blazing… or is he just hoping to go out in a blaze of glory?

___________________________________________________________

The End?
___________________________________________________________

[jt]

The room had that musty smell of sweat, liniment and stale deodorant; it permeated the makeshift gym that had been setup within Studio A. The sound of flesh pounding on the heavy bag could be heard from down the hallways as the camera approached ever closer. The small window in the door was misted up, as it was pushed open the smell became intensified, the sweatbox of a room had some fresh air to pollute even if it was only for a split second as the door closed behind the camera. Immediately the camera’s saw J.T.Cash...

-| J.T.Cash |-
You guys ever give me a minute to myself, seriously you perverts had better not have a camera set up in my home or I’m gonna be having words with Rose.

Cash said calmly, he of course hadn’t even broke a sweat, indeed the sound of flesh on the heavy bag had not been his more a local wrestling talent using the facilities. Cash instead was dressed in a black jacket and jeans and was leaning calmly against a barely open window. He looked around at the murky, dark, dusty, smelly make shift gym with a look of distain. He shook his heads as the camera’s came closer

-| J.T.Cash |-
Look no further people of Simcoe; this is exactly what is wrong with your wrestling company. A pair of heavy bags that hang from the roof with haggard rope, a rusty piece of crap that looks like Simcoe’s very own version of a bench press, medicine balls that would look more at home at Molly’s House of Horrors and I think, I think that is what you people call your ‘sparring mat’...

Cash pointed over towards an area that had a few blue mats strewn across the cold concrete floor. The room was clearly just thrown together with the best that Studio A could find but J.T.Cash was clearly unimpressed by the attempt

-| J.T.Cash |-
Everything about Simcoe County Championship Wrestling can be summed up in two words... small time. I’m here to perfect my trade, I’m here to start my legacy, I’m not here to entertain you idiots, I’m not here to stay and believe me Simcoe I will not be here long. I was born for the big time, I was made for the greatest stage of them all this... all of this is nothing more than a learning curve that will soon enough be done and dealt with. The National Wrestling Alliance knows the star that I am, sooner rather than later they will invest the money in their biggest name, sooner rather than later I will be the main event, I will be headlining, will be the act that nobody can follow... See the NWA gives J.T.Cash the exposure he demands and what comes with exposure... cash, contracts, merchandise and calls from the big two companies that will allow me to put my ability on those big stages, in front of those packed crowds... and crapholes like Barrie, Studio A and Simcoe County will no longer be a learning curve but it will be a distant memory, a lingering bad smell, an unwanted footnote in the career of the greatest wrestler to ever arrive on your television screens the one and only J.T.Cashhh...

Cash looks up towards the sky as if the vision of him performing on the biggest wrestling stage of them all had captivated him. Cash’s eyes closed furthering his dream like reaction until he slowly opened them, a small smirk creeping across his face

-| J.T.Cash |-
...But then that’s all to come, between now and then J.T.Cash is about one thing... impacts. Now you maybe sick and tired of J.T.Cash talking about impacts but its what I make, it’s what I do... be it beat your champion, take the NWA title or even be it putting your former tag team champion on the shelf... impact after impact after impact. And believe me it doesn't stop at last week’s... oh no, no. You see Chris Bond said it himself, I am the shooting star, I have done things already in my career that the so called Dynasty haven’t done, I have done things in my career that your champion could only dream of doing... the simple fact is in three short months J.T.Cash has taken Simcoe County and shaken it like a leaf on a tree, impacts are what I do, they are easy for me because I have the talent to back up my every word, I have the ability to walk the walk and there is nothing... NOTHING that I can’t do. And Galactix that’s where you come in... You see despite what you’ve been in the past the idiots that are watching this love you, they cheer your name, you’re one of their big hopes... what better way to etch the J.T.Cash name in history before he departs for arena’s like Madison Square Garden, than to beat your face in to the ground to a point that even that street hooker you got at your side, Jodi I think her name is wont even recognise you. See Galactix, this Monday night you’re going to get a sneak preview of what your opponent can do, you’re going to realise that you can forget name dropping the likes of Chis Champion, Aaron Blaize and Atreidis, you’re going to realise that you can forget everything you have been through because I...J.T.CASH... am your biggest challenge, your biggest threat and soon enough you will damn sure as hell realise that I am your biggest god damn nightmare. End your career, put you on the shelf, embarrass you it doesn't matter... take the Simcoe County Championship Wrestling Welterweight strap and add it to the collection.. you better believe it. The famous Galactix, the name those idiots cheer will be the next impact and it will reverberate around Studio A like a shockwave...

Cash looked confident, his simple stared towards the camera as if it was his tool to get in to the minds of the fans and more importantly his opponents. He spoke quietly, his every word was laced with a arrogant intent

-| J.T.Cash |-
See this Monday night it aint just about us is it G, you got Bond and the derailed Coletrain, you got Hannah Rickman making the comeback to the ring and you got Sam Hessingstock the soul of Simcoe. This Monday night each and every man...and woman have something to lose, each and every man and woman has some to prove and make no mistake this match is being taken very seriously by yours truly. I don’t care if I pin Galactix or Rickman, Hessingstock or Cole it don’t matter to me, the only thing I care about is winning, being number one, numero uno... the man that cash’s the cheques, the man that gets the chicks, wears the finest clothes and drives the best cars... the simple fact I only care about being the best I can be, and being the best I can be is something incredible. Now some of the idiots I am going in to the ring against may not be able to fathom what that means, Sam Hessingstock may not have a clue what class looks like, Joseph Cole may never know what it’s like to have my kind of riches but Hannah Rickman...you’re different. See I look in to your eyes and I see a woman with class, a woman with the attitude that is needed to succeed, I know that deep inside there is the type of woman that could stand next to a man like me... question is Hannah Rickman do you believe it, do you believe in yourself... drop the no name you walk around with, forget the fans that you supposedly want to please and walk the same steps as J.T.Cash... believe me Hannah it could be everything you could ever dream of, the riches, the money, the labels, the cars, houses... call it a place where dreams are made. Or you could continue the path your walking, you can continue to try and make those idiot fans smile, you can continue to pretend that your not above those people in every way, you can smile and hold Galactix’s hand and that decision Hannah means that you’re not ever going to reach the dreamland, it means that the hottest woman in Simcoe County is going to get her ass handed to her by the hottest man in professional wrestling...

Cash smirked confidently, he meant every word. There was a gleam in his eye that lit up the camera lens, he rubbed his chin slightly as there was a chuckle

-| J.T.Cash |-
That’s right... the hottest man in professional wrestling. I guess you can add confident to the list of selfish huh Hessingstock. What’s the matter Sam, you sitting there listening to me blow my own trumpet? You sitting there sick and tired of J.T.Cash talk himself up to be the superstar that he is? Or maybe Sam, are you sitting there realising that maybe, just maybe J.T.Cash is every bit as good as he says he is? I’ve beaten you before and you can cry that it wasn’t fair, you can cry to mommy all you want but the simple fact is the record books show J.T.Cash beat Sam Hessingstock... question is Samuel, what are you going to do about it? What are you going to do this Monday to make sure that lightning doesn't strike twice... because I’ll let you in to a secret, the man you faced before was a shadow of the superstar you are going in to the ring with this Monday night. In the three months that J.T.Cash has graced the SCCW screens I have grown, I have developed, I have become the superstar that you prayed that the rookie sensation would never be... See Sam I know you fight the good fight, I know you have battled all comers, I know that you’re as ballsy as anyone in Simcoe but the fact is now you have another man who is knocking on the door, another man who isn’t jumping through hoops for those parasitical fans, another man who see’s you as nothing more than a circus act...paid to please a baying mob...And I know you hate people like me, I know you look at people like me with distain in your eyes and hate in your heart, I know you hate me because I hate what you love. Well Sam, take your chance, this Monday night I ask you to give me all you got, this Monday night I beg you to fight for each and every peon that you seem to represent because believe me every punch, kick and attack I put on you is like a strike against each and every one of them. The simple fact is that you and your screw up of a tag team partner are going in to the ring with two men who stand for exactly the opposite to you, you and Cole... you bang on about doing what’s right, you bang on about being the honourable men but over the past week Chris Bond has shown what can be done to honourable men, Chris Bond has shown the reality of our situation... we’re in it, to win it by any means necessary. Chris Bond has shown that if we push the right buttons then you idiots are no more honourable than any one of us... this Monday night I will show every single one of you what I am and that simply is...Everything You Will Never Be...

Cash winked as he got up from the window ledge and calmly walked out of the gym as the camera faded to black

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