-- Nighttime. The camera shows an aerial view of "Dynamite" Dave Drexxel's house. The pale light of the full moon shines dimly on the roof. Dark, ominous clouds float slowly overhead, casting black shadows upon the ground. The camera slowly descends. It stops just outside, the front window of Dave's dwelling. The only light is that coming from the house is that of the tv stationed just beyond the window. We see Dave walking in from another room with a tape in his hand. The camera now moves closer and closer, passing through the window and stopping in front of Dave's VCR. He puts a tape in to the machine labeled "Saturday Night Slam -- 12 / 12 / 98". He now walks out of the room and into the kitchen. --

-- He walks over to the cupboard and pulls out a pan of "Jiffy Pop". Branches scratch like undead hands at the window as Dave turns on the stove and sets the pan on the front right eye. He stands there waiting for the corn to start popping when... --

RIIINNNGGGGG!!!!! RIIIINNNGGGGGG!!!!

-- The phone on the wall by the stove rings. Dave jumps, startled by the sudden intrusion. He waves a fist at the phone and says a few colorful phrases before he picks up the reciever. --

Dave: Hello?

-- A deep, menacing, gravely voice with a very bad European accent answers. --

Voice: Hello.

Dave: Okay, buddy. Unless this is about my renewal for Hustler Magazine, you'd better leave me the Hell alone. I've got videos to watch and strategies to plan.

Voice: You would do well to not hang up on me.

Dave: Yeah? Why's that, Wheezy?

Voice: BECAUSE IF YOU DO SCOTT DIES!

-- Dave's smug look quickly turns to confusion. He leaves the phone up to his ear and can hear Scott's muffled shouts, as if someone has a hand over his mouth. The shouting suddenly stops and the voice comes back. --

Voice: Heh, heh, heh. Got your attention now, don't I? Hello? Dave?

Dave: Yeah, I'm here. Look man, you can't do this to us! We've got a shot at a shot for the tag team titles in two days! Who is this, Gangrel? Cause if it is I'll beat your ass right now!

Voice: No, it's uh...

Dave: SHUT UP! I know it's you. You're not so scary you saw toothed bitch! I saw you get the crap kicked out of your pale ass Saturday! If you don't knock this charade right now I'll call KG up on three-way and send him over to beat you some more!

Voice: Wait a sec, I...

Dave: Or maybe I'll come over and do it right. I'll beat you from here to next Tuesday! What the Hell are you good for except opening beer bottles with those damn incisors?! And what the Hell is up with that guy Edge? Do you have compromising pictures on him or something? I know he's not hanging around with you to get dates. You guys couldn't get laid in a morgue, although I'm sure you'd probably prefer it that way.

Voice: Would you shut the Hell up? God damn. If you don't shut up I'll set your freakin' house on fire! Now, if you ever want to see me, uh... I mean Scott alive again you'll do exactly as I say. Go to your front door. There's a "surprise" waiting for you, heh heh heh.

-- Dave looks suspiciously at the phone but goes to the front door awyway. He slowly turns the knob and opens the door. He sees nothing and puts the phone back up to his mouth. --

Dave: Ooohhhh. Scary. You know what would have been scarier than nothing? Hmmmm? ANYTHING!!!

Voice: Oh yeah? Well what about this?

-- All of a sudden a thin figure drops in front of Dave.

-- Dave immediatly attacks the figure, whipping it with the phone, realizing that it's a cardboard cutout when the head is ripped off. Now on the ground Dave looks around to see who orchestrated this little prank. On the roof of the house sits Scott Tokage, laughing hysterically. --

Scott: Oh my God! That was the greatest thing I've ever seen in my entire life! The look on your face! You poor piece of crap! Ha ha ha!! That was pricelaahhhhhh!!!

-- Scott was so overcome with laughter that he failed to realize how close to the edge of the roof he was. He comes tumbling down, landing in the flower bed and getting the wind knocked out of him. Dave, still breathing heavy walks over and kicks Scott in the butt as he's trying to get up. --

Dave: That's what you get for f**king with me. Now, get your butt outta my yard and come inside. I was just about to scout the tapes from Saturday for our match against Thorne, Modest, and the Kindred.

Scott: But I got somewhere to be! I didn't intend on hanging around after my brilliant joke!

Dave: You know you don't have anywhere to be, besides these matches don't take long.

-- The two laugh as the camera fades to black. --

-- We fade back in on Dave's fireplace, the cutout of Thorne being used as kindling. The camera pans over to Scott and Dave. Dave holds the remote control and presses play. Both are laughing and watching Raven's Evenflow DDT on Michael Modest for the 16th time. --

Scott: * Wipes a tear from his eye. * Bwah ha ha!! Again, I want to see it again!

Dave: Heh heh. Except for our Damn Good Drop, that had to be the best finisher of the night. Watch his head. Here it comes... Ohhhhh. That is gonna leave a mark.

Scott: I don't see how he's going to fight on Wednesday, after being humiliated by Raven like that. And Thorne's gonna be too distracted trying to keep Modest's head up straight while wiping the drool from his chin.

Dave: Yeah, the FORMER European Champ is definatly NOT going to get the chance for another title anytime soon.

Scott: And judging by the number you did on that cardboard cutout, I wouldn't doubt that for a second. Just don't rip his head off until we get the Damn Good Drop. After we win you can do whatever the Hell you want.

Dave: I just hope he doesn't wear a Speedo. Uhgh. That still gives me chills just thinking about that. Hey, throw another leg on the fireplace.

-- The camera begins to pan back and out the front window as our heroes continue to do their research for Wednesday. But a few questions still reamain unanswered. Will they ever stop watching the Evenflow? Where did Scott get that cutout of Thorne Richards? And whatever became of the Jiffy Pop Dave was cooking? Maybe we'll never know. The camera continues to pull up and away from the house. As the camera fades to black we hear a deafening beep. --

Dave: * From inside the house. * OH CRAP, DUDE!! THE JIFFY POP!! FIRE!!!

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