Heel/Face/Tweener:   Tweener--trustworthy, usually a fan favorite, but
mostly for his bad-ass-ness.
Wrestlers History: Reese has dealt, his whole life, with being of freakish
size.
Though proportional, he was always huge, and particularly athletic.  Even as
a 7th grader, he dealt with a weird mix of adulation and ostricization,
being alternately popularized and pushed away as a 6' 2" twelve-year old.
To boot, he grew-up poor, and was painfully aware of his poverty with Disney
World only minutes from his subsidized-housing project.  He would watch
families from around the world fly-in, drop thousands of dollars on food,
lodging, and entertainment, and leave only with the "experience."  At home,
Reese didn't have the luxury of doing things for the "experience:"  he
fought hard to eat enough and have clothes on his back.  He never knew a
father, raised alone after the man that impregnated his mother returned to
the West Coast to work construction and battle drug-addiction.
His mother worked hard, sometimes.  Though she worked two and three jobs
simultaneously, she often fell into the depths of despair, spending nights
at her mother's house, his grandmother's, without him.  Those nights alone,
young and confused, taught Reese to live on his own, think on his own, and
value himself.
When he was "in" he tried sports.  The coaches in school all wanted him, and
he excelled for them.  Hesitant at that age to use his size and speed to
hurt people, he shied away from football and dominated in basketball and in
his school wrestling team's heavyweight division.
He got older, more mature...and bigger.  He sprouted to near 7' by his
senior year.  By then, he'd begun to accept his body, to love it.  He was
handsome when he tried to be, and he'd been working out with weights in
addition to his other training for several years.  He began boxing at a
decrepit gym in downtown Orlando, the seedy side of the magical city.  He
even got tattooed:  he wears the symbol of Wallace's Boxing Academy, a
yellow lightning bolt with a pair of red boxing gloves hung from it, on his
left shoulder.
He worked out, and ran, and practiced, with his heart set on a Division I
basketball scholarship.  Recruiting letters arrived, and three big-name
coaches showed up at his crackerbox house to woo his mom and him.  She was
impressed, and he felt centered.  He had a purpose, and with a scholarship
he could go to a big-name university, get a degree, and stop being "that
really big kid."
Then, a fellow player on his traveling AAU team, jealous and spiteful of
Reese, lied to a reporter in a hotel room in Georgia.  He mentioned Reese,
and drugs, and other problems...and said they'd been kept under wraps.
In a two week explosion, Reese's dreams were shattered.  He sat numbly
through his high school graduation ceremony as the story spread from Orlando
to Florida to the entire East coast:  "One More Would-Be Star Fails to Make
Good" and "Ghetto Influence Halts High-Schooler's Hoop Dreams."  He was
mentioned in Newsweek but didn't keep the spread.
No coaches called.  No scholarships materialized.
Reese was crushed.  He shaved his hair into a mohawk, grew a mean beard, and
fell-in with a crowd of would-have-beens.  He moved briefly to Chicago,
played ball on hot, broken, inner-city courts, lifted, juiced.  He filled in
to 7'4" and his muscles grew cartoonishly.  He boxed there, too, and met a
man that called himself "T" on the hardwood and in the gym.  They talked,
became fast friends, before circumstances split them.
He lived...that was all.  He was mean, but valued loyalty where he found it.
He was unpleasant, but still he searched.
Then, visiting New Orleans, a trip he took on his own with little money--for
the "experience"--he met The Corpse.  That story has already been told.
They were the best of friends, and when an ADC executive spotted the
Mountain on a basketball court in Chicago that year, all giant, glistening
muscles and mohawk and trash-talk, the two of them signed-on as PWA
wrestlers-in-training, togther.
What a ride its been.  Where they were once inseperable, Reese has since
asserted himself as a force to reckoned with at the highest levels.  He's
contended for every belt, fought all comers, and has finally found his
purpose.  His pay checks have given him the clothes he's wanted, the
lifestyle he loves--he flies to Vegas to gamble, to California for Clippers
games, and is recognized as a champion wherever he goes.  He smiles a lot.
He believes in himself.
Here, he is valued for his looks, for his smarts, for his speed, for his
strength...for his size.
Here, loyalty matters.
Finishing Move: Reese has two finishing moves.  The first is the
Showstopper.  More recently, he introduced the Chokeslam Backbreaker.
Description of Finisher:  The Showstopper (also one of Reese's nicknames,
along with The Mountain) is a two-handed chokeslam with a fall-forward
finish.  This may result in a pin, a submission, or a choke-out, as Reese
leans all his weight into a continued choke after the fall.
The Chokeslam Backbreaker is exactly what it sounds.  Reese hoists his
opponent high in the air for a one-handed chokeslam, one huge hand
encircling the victim's throat, then drives the opponent over his bent knee
for a backbreaker.  He has ended careers with this move.
Reese also has some signature moves, including the Reese Rack (a one-armed
rack over-the-shoulder) and the Ferris Wheel (a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.)