!-----------------------!

[Bars of moonlight skidded across the floor of the dungeon-esque room. The flicker of flames reflected starkly against the stone wall. The camera itself pans slowly over the room revealing a truly medieval castle setting, as torches are scattered in various parts of the room. The flames dancing over the woodwork of a large oaken table covered in food fit only for a medieval king; Bowls of fruit, large roasted chicken resting on a silver platter, goblets full of semi-clear purple fluid. Seated at the table are several men dressed in what can only be called, unique attire. Horned helmets like those stereotypically worn by the vikings rest atop the men's heads. The men eat the food on the table merrily.]

[At the head of the table, sits Marcus Gaines decked out in medieval fashion like all the other men. He sits looking rather melancholy at the food on the table and at the other men seated around the table. The dimly lit room is suddenly brought into complete monstrous light as lightning crackles. As this happens a song is heard playing. A brief piano introduction followed by an edgy guitar slam. Marcus Gaines' demeanor changes from melancholy to something undescribable, somewhere in between having an epiphany, and having a really good romp on the toilet. As the familiar sound of Meatloaf's I Would Do Anything for Love (But I won't Do That.) is heard and just as Meatloaf begins to sing, it suddenly appears as if it is Marcus who is singing the song.]

Gaines: [His lips move to the words but it is Meatloaf's voice the audience hears.] And I would do anything for love. I'd run right into hell and back.

[Marcus fakes getting air as his eyes falsely show some form of sincerity just before he "sings" the next line. The piano breaks down the first line then moves to the next phrase.]

Gaines: And I would do anything for love. I wouldn't lie to you and that's a fact.

[Again Marcus pauses, with that glimmer of falsified sincerity shining in his eyes. Anyone watching can tell he isn't the one singing as his poor attempt at lip synching like Milli Vanilli of the days of yore seems to have failed.]

Gaines: But I'll never forget the way you feel right now, oh no. No way.

[Marcus' lips seem to stumble as if he doesn't truly know the words.]

Director: [Yelling through some sort of voice amplification device.] Cut. Take a break chaps.

[The actors on set as well as the crew seem to collectively sigh a sigh of relief and move over to the refreshment stand. The actors pry off their viking helmets and begin nervously chewing on fruit, doughnuts, mini sandwiches and the like. The director casually approaches Marcus who is steadily getting up from his seat at the table. The director leads Marcus off the stage.]

[The director speaks in an oddly comical british accent as he leads Marcus towards his chair, the director's gray flannel pants swishing together making a sound much like corduroy rubbing together, which is odd. A pony tail sways down the back of his hair like a snake coiling itself around a victims throat. A suited man who seemingly emerged from the shadows rushes up to the two.]

Director: Marcus... how can I put this nicely. Your lip synching sucks.

[The man who just ran over puts his hand in front of the director as if to hold him back from getting at Marcus. The director looks down at the hand then up at the man's face.]

Director: [In a very annoyed tone of voice.] Excuse me. Who are you and what is you're hand doing in proximity of my body?

[The man lets his hand slip down at his side. His dark brown hair swaying slightly in the breeze on the set.]

Man: Hello, I'm Reginald Smith. M.G's agent. And I personally thinking my homey's lip synching was perfect.

[The director scoffs at the taller man. His arms folding across his chest as he leans back in a strange defensive posture.]

Director: And who are you to judge just what a good lip sync looks like? I've been directing lip syncers since the early '80's. Mister Gaines has the worst lip syncing skills I've ever seen since Vanilla Ice.

[Marcus who has as of yet, stood back and watched the two argue, when now he steps in forward more to interject.]

Gaines: [Rather timidly.] I'm a wrestler... And how did Vanilla Ice lip sync? Those weren't even good songs.

[The director scoffs again and looks with a rather shocked, dismayed look on his face.]

Director: Well, excuse me. You two sort this out within five minutes. I'm going out for a Zima.

[Marcus and Reginald Smith both watch after the director as he stomps off in a huff to get his much fabled refreshment. At the point where he is completely out of sight, Smith turns to Marcus.]

Smith: [Puts his hand on Gaines' shoulder.] M.G. Bubbula... Don't listen to what that tap-dancing fairy has to say about you. As Jimmy J.J. Walker would say, "You're Dy-no-mite"!

[Marcus seems uneasy, and shrugs Smith's hand from his shoulder and takes a step back and regards his new agent with a bit of tension.]

Gaines: Well sure. But-

[As if his initial onslaught of compliments about Marcus' skills weren't enough, Reginald Smith interrupts Marcus as if a firecrack were stuck up his ^ss.]

Smith: You're a bit of all right, babe. Meat Loaf himself couldn't have performed "I Would Do Anything for Love" any better than you.

[Marcus steps back as if spooked my the words.]

Gaines: Well, okay. But speaking of Meat Loaf. Why the hell am I lip syncing to his songs in some bizarre remake of his song?

[Smith chuckles as he pulls a stick of gum out of the side pocket of his sportscoat and taps it against the edge of his hand. He unwraps it from its package and pops it in his mouth as if it were popcorn.]

Smith: Here's the thing, M.G. We did a survey, a phone survey of one half the population of Colorado and Illinois. Asking them if they would like to see a resurgence of Meat Loaf.

[Smith pauses looking into Marcus' eyes as if waiting for an answer to some unseen question.]

Gaines: Okay...

Smith: [Chewing the gum vigorously while talking.] Basically, Meat Loaf, the artist isn't popular anymore. The typical Johnny Lunchbox is grossed out seeing an obese man belting out eighties hits. Interestingly enough, Meat Loaf the meal, is on the rise. Did you know that some people eat it with ketchup?

[Marcus feins interest.]

Smith: Anyway. The survey told us, Meat Loaf wasn't a draw anymore. However, the songs are still hits. I mean the kids just be-bop away to this song, alone.

[Smith takes a breath while chewing causing his exhale to whistle slightly as it prattles against his gum.]

Gaines: I don't get it.

[Smith laughs a hearty laugh that rumbles throughout the fairly chubby man's thick frame.]

Smith: M.G. I could kiss you. Basically, the idea of a greatest hits package for Meat Loaf is a good one to the average Joe. But the kids just don't dig the fat jolly man anymore. So the idea is, we remake the video, put out the greatest hits package, and Meat Loaf sells again! It can't miss.

[Marcus smirks.]

Gaines: So where do I fit in?

Smith: Well, the people love wrestling. I mean you're getting more and more popular with the fans. So the idea is, you lip sync to Meat Loaf's songs for the music videos, we put your picture on the cover of the CD, and BOOM. Instant musical superstar slash wrestler.

[Marcus folds his arms across his chest and sighs.]

Gaines: Am I going to have to go on tour for this or something? It sounds really stupid.

Smith: M.G! Hell no. We can't make you go out on stage, it'd conflict with your wrestling schedule. We just want to broaden your horizons. When you hired me as your agent, I said to myself. Reg, Marcus Gaines is a man who has got to have his hand in as many pies as possible; And I mean that in the figurative sense. [Snorts out a laugh.] I mean wrestling is a dangerous biz. People get hurt all the time. What happens if you're in a freak accident involving a toilet, and a toilet plunger? Don't think about it, you just might jinx yourself. But my point is, you need to be as widespread as possible. Wrestling can only put buns in the oven for a fixed period of time, and then, it's onto Saturday Night Live with you. Don't Worry, M.G. We'll finish the shoot, and get you into the gym for a photo op.

!-----------------------!

[A lot had happened for Marcus. Things were picking up for him career wise. And if you haven't already guessed, Marcus himself has had more freedom with his career. Hence the hiring of mister Reginald Smith, Agent to athletes. Marcus was considering it a horrible decision after the video shoot. And now as he sat in the limo in the parking lot, he considered his match with Dark Tiger in the Gladiator Title tourney. To Marcus it wasn't too important to possess that title, that was never the reason for joining the GWA in the first place as some will recall.]

[The door opened and in stepped Reginald Smith. He gave a sly smile to Marcus then sat down tapping on the tinted window that parted the driver's cab and the back of the limo. As the limo pushed off into motion Smith stared at Marcus for a good while before he finally opened his mouth to blather on about something new.]

Smith: Great shoot, M.G. I see that single skyrocketing to number one on Billboard.

[Marcus tried to block Smith out of his mind as he peered out through the tinted windows at the somewhat crowded city streets outside. However, when Smith started up this conversation other things entered Marcus' mind, forcing him to focus on the conversation he was about to have.]

Gaines: Whatever.

[Smith smiles at the lack of enthusiasm and leans forward in his leather apholstered carseat.]

Smith: Well take my word for it on this one M.G. So what about this match you have coming up against... [Snaps his fingers as if to help himself remember. Like tying a ribbon around his finger.] Darth Vader or something? I have money riding on you!

[Marcus brings his hand up to his mouth and lightly nibbles at his fingernail, then as soon as he's managed to get a small chunk off, spits it directly at Smith who blinks it off.]

Gaines: Dark Tiger actually. And to be honest... I'm a little worried about it.

[Smith leans forward a little closer to Marcus with a shocked look set upon his face.]

Smith: Why? I mean what do you have to be worried about? The odds are, he's more worried then you are!

[Marcus looks upset, as he guides his hand up over his eyes like a shield, protecting him from just about anything. It's usually what we do see that scares us, am I right?]

Gaines: Reg, you have to understand. I'm worried for HIS sake...

[Smith shakes his head as if he isn't quite catching on to what Marcus is saying.]

Smith: What are you saying?

[Marcus exhales a deep breath as his frustration mounts. He looks out the window at the various things whizzing by, each and everyone of them becoming an afterthought as he realizes what he has to tell this man he has only known for a little under a week.]

Gaines: Reg.... I'm not like other wrestlers...

[Marcus looks at mister Smith with the utmost sincerity, Reginald returns the look with a mixture of curiosity and mounting fear.]

Smith: I don't understand.

[Marcus lets out a sigh as he hunches over in his chair clenching his fists repeatedly as he brings them closer to his body. Smith has a look of complete shock as he tries to bring himself lower to see exactly what is wrong with his client. His shaky hand begins to outstretch to add some comfort to the man, Smith senses something is indeed wrong with his client, and the concern about his own paycheck rises from his gut to his throat.]

[Marcus suddenly and abruptly emits an odd growling sound that seems almost too guttural to be natural for a human. The growl continues and is growing in intensity, Smith places his hand on the hunched over form of Marcus.]

Smith: M.G... Are you okay?

[Smith even gets a little closer until his nose is only a few inches from Marcus' crouched over head. As he looks over the back of Marcus' body he notices an odd blue tinge on the back of his neck, that seems to be getting more and more blue as he looks at it, and is even becoming slightly scaley. Thinking it is because Marcus is sick, curiosity overcomes Smith, and he slowly reaches for this peculiar patch of bluish-grey skin on the back of Marcus' neck. Gaines continues an odd growling noise that Smith chalks up to something he must have eaten. Smith's hand gets ever closer to this very strange looking patch of anything but skin, his hand creeps steadily but slowly towards it.]

[Marcus' head rises to greet Smith, but no longer is Marcus' familiar semi-griseled face greeting him, but the gruesome image of what looks like a shark. Smith jumps back at the sheer surprise of seeing the new face of Marcus Gaines.]

Gaines: [As Marcus talks, his voice has also changed, it's huskier, less humanoid, more animal and savage.] GO AWAY!

[Smith stares in utter shock as this new shark face stares blankly at him. The blackened eyes of this new creature occasionally blinking docilely at him. Smith's heart pounds faster and faster as the reality of his predicament sets in. He now had to believe whatever was left of Marcus Gaines was now replaced by the growing form of a Shark. Even as Smith sat in terror, Marcus' body continued to change from a humanoid form into that of a shark. Smith could only sit and watch as Marcus' arms steadily shortened, and almost grew back into his body and a pair of fins now stood flapping as if trying to swim around in the car. Marcus' skin was now completely changing to the colour Smith had seen previously on the back of Gaines' neck, and taking on a scaly, more shark-like look. Marcus was changing faster and faster, his body grew larger and larger.]

[As this change continued to take place, it occured to Smith that the only thing he could do was to run, he had to leap from a moving vehicle. The limousine couldn't be going any more than fifty miles per hour now, and with a little bit of aprehension, Smith opened the door taking a last glimpse of Marcus to see what else was happening, and leaped from the vehicle and rolling to safety next to the sidewalk. His whole body hurt and his heart pounded as he got up and checked for injuries.]

[The limo driver was now alerted to the open door and floored the brakes. Smith stood and watched as well as several pedestrians who were nearby. The door Smith had jumped out of shook violently for a moment as it accustomed to the now halted vehicle, and as Smith watched, his worst fear came to pass, as the new form of Marcus Gaines had leaned over and now a shark head leered from the passenger door looking directly at him. Time seemed to stand still as the new face of Marcus peered out at him. It almost seemed in slow motion when the entire shark body hopped from the car and rested on the pavement. Gasps were heard on each side of the street as onlookers stared at the rarest and msot unbelievable thing they had ever seen. A shark out of water. Smith only stood, his jaw left hanging and his pants becoming soaked at the crotch and downward. ]

[It almost didn't register to Smith when this large frame of a shark began undulating in a swimming fashion like all fish do. Marcus couldn't seem to realize that he was in fact on dry land. And as Smith began to realize that the new Marcus Gaines was in fact after him, he turned and ran turning a corner knocking over several people in his wake.]

[Marcus realizing he could get no where by attemtping to swim on cement, he hopped after Smith much like a Seal hops along dry land. He soon found he could actually get up quite fast, and charged eagerly after Smith not caring what the people seeing this must think. He hadn't known he was in fact a were-shark. He didn't know they existed. But now he did, and the urge to tear into something meaty over came him, and he took a bite out of a frightened gawker who immediately fell over screaming in terror. Marcus continued hopping after Smith and was in fact gaining on the portly man, giving in to the idea that the man hadn't been jogging or even excercising in quite some time. Smith foolishly turned down a corner leading directly into a dead end; Marcus followed him in still hopping along, Smith let out a cry for help as he saw the brick wall grow larger as he got closer to it. Marcus had grown as large as a mature male Great White shark, and could easily block the path out or into the allweyway. Smith was stuck, and both he and Marcus knew it. Smith turned to face the new shark face of Marcus, and began to whine.]

Smith: M.G... haha... You know I am only looking out for your best interest.

[It came to reason to Reginald Smith, that perhaps this creature that had trapped him in here may not have the same mind as Marcus Gaines did, and this thing might not understand a word he said. The thing sat, resting on it's white underside staring at him with lifeless black eyes, that would ocasionally roll over into a milky white eye cover. When the thing did speak it was a total surprise to Smith.]

Shark Gaines: [The voice is different, more hollow but unmistakably Marcus.] Reg. It is me. I'm not going to hurt you. I just needed to show you my secret. I've kept it a secret for so long, for so long not even I knew. I'd wake up to find myself floating up on shore of the Atlantic ocean. I just figured I had been trapped aboard oil frigates. I needed to show you so you understood why I'm worried about Dark Tiger's safety.

[Smith presses his back tightly against the wall, still cautious of Marcus and his new form.]

Shark Gaines: Dark Tiger has much to worry about on Wednesday. He I don't know if I can keep my form from showing much longer... it's amazing that no one has found out considering I am such a public person.

[Smith's initial cowardice is given way to his usual annoying character flaws.]

Smith: So you're just going to fight him with your flippers, and tail and ummmm jaws and stuff?

[It's hard to completely tell but Marcus' bulbous shark head nods.]

Smith: [Smith starts backing away from the wall.] You know, M.G. this is truly amazing. I've never seen anything like this before. But... you don't have to feel alone... I have a secret to.

[Marcus' shark eyes blink with a dull charisma as Smith hunches over and almost immediately his body is transformed into what looks like an Ostrich.]

Ostrich Smith: I'm a were ostrich.

[Surprise is extremely hard to show when you look like a shark, but Marcus was amazed that he wasn't the only one to have something as drastic and unbelievable as this happening to him.]

Ostrich Smith: My brother Ben is a Were turkey. This is quite common I'm afraid. So don't worry.

[Marcus had a small grin set upon his face as he watched the monitor of the odd promo he had just shot. It seemed pointless, but he felt good about it. Several other crew members as well as the director and the man who had played the part of Reginald Smith crowded around the television monitor watching the performance and chuckling at certain humorous moments.]

[Marcus turns from the monitor and walks away from the crowd of people. His hand is gripping a styrofoam cup filled with mineral water that he sips from liberally. As he makes his way through the soundstage the camera moves up closer and Marcus is taken aback by the sudden unannounced visit of GWA reporters. He clears his throat for better enunciation and smiles into the camera lense.]

Gaines: GOOOOOD MORNING GWAAAAA. [Smirks.] Well I guess it's going to be just me discussing my views on this Darth Tiger matchup for wednesday in leu of lack of interviewers. Darth Tiger, Which by the way isn't the wrong way to say his name. Darth, in some foreign language means dark. So knowing that, when I first saw Star Wars, I INSTANTLY knew Darth Vader was a bad guy.

[Grins.]

Gaines: I can't figure this whole Dark Tiger gimmick out. Is he supposed to be big and scary? He doesn't seem all that intimidating to me. I'm more scared of those Furby and Tickle me Elmo dolls, a few Christmas's ago those things were hot items. Will they make a comeback? The holiday buying blitz is always exciting. I love seeing what stupid gifts people can dream up. Tickle Me G.I. Joe is the big hit this year. Apparently if you tickle the thing in the wrong are the voice chip gets higher and prissier.

[Chuckles.]

Gaines: But anyhow. I could always say, if Dark Tiger is so scary and intimidating, why aren't I very scared of him? He's bigger than me, stronger than me, and gosh darnit, people like him. Well, I'll tell you why if you're too stumped, the most cliched phrase in the big book of wrestling; The Bigger they are, the harder they fall. I'm really confused about the guy. He had to have been influenced by Mike Tyson's Punchout for the Nintendo Entertainment System. Did you know there's a character in that game called Great Tiger? Coincidence? I think not.

[Stops a moment and looks thoughtful for a moment.]

Gaines: I really don't know all that much about Darth Tiger. He thinks he's badass. We shall soon see shan't we? That's all I have to say about that palooka.

[Gaines stops talking completely and watches the camera man who is waiting expectantly for more words. As if it were a cue, the cameraman begins packing up his equipment. Marcus smiles merrily and continues walking as if nothing has bothered or upset him.]

[The first one came in a flash and dissapeared from his head before he could realize what had happened, it was like a nervous twitch shimmying it's way up his arm. He kept walking but then the second one hit, and it hit hard. His eyes were open but what he saw wasn't the soundstage, he saw the inside of Debra Coleman's office, this little vision passed a bit slower than the first but it look too much like a hazy afterthought. He shook his head trying to get whatever it was away but the third one came, and it was much more vivid. It was as if he were a fly on the wall of his therapist's office. He couldn't control the actions, he was just a passenger along for the ride this fly had to take him on. He saw a man, sitting next to Debra on the couch he had become oh so familiar with. The man's blonde hair was practically stuck to the mans head, and it never moved as his neck tilted to plant a kiss on Debra's neck.]

[Marcus' as well as the fly's tiny heart began to beat loud and fast. Marcus kept expecting Debra to push the man away but she didn't, as she let out a sigh and tilted her head back, Marcus immediately saw a look of complete lust on her face as the man continued his advances. Marcus filled up with rage, he wanted to see the man's face but everytime the fly would position itself to move to an angle where the man's face could be visible, the fly darted away as if to tease Marcus.]

[And then as quickly as the vision had come, it had vanished, and Marcus was left with a bitter taste in his mouth, like he had been drinking water fed to him through rusty pipes. He leaned over resting the palms of his hands on his knees, trying to scoop air into his lungs as quick as he could. He felt like someone had just stuck a knife into his gut. He breathed in several more deep breaths of air, and stood up straight, that bitter taste remaining. He hoped that gypsy woman wasn't right. He couldn't stay from Debra. Yet, possibly, if what he had just seen wasn't just a vision, it was the truth, then neither could a blonde haired man.]

"My Name is Marcus Gaines. Your's isn't." - Marcus Gaines