"Your existance is a script,
life for you is a performance,
play out the leading role.
Directing and premediating every move.
That creates the act of manipulation.
Mastering the art of deception.
That increases your sick addiction.
It's overactive imagination
that enslaves your empty shell.

Death - "Overactive Imagination"

-The scene opens up on a typical gritty street corner, definitely a very public place, or so the slient crowd says. They are mesmirized by the preachings of two men standing behind a cheap cardboard pulpit, not saying a word, not moving, completely enraptured, as though witnessing a natural phenomenon. In a sense, they are, though. The words of Messiah have yet to dissappoint...-

The Dark Messiah: The life you are living is a sham! Your prepackaged pop culture is only the only thing keeping you from becoming one with YOURSELF...in't THAT what's important in this day and age? How can we so rashly forget about the self, in favor of the group? What, as a society, as a people, have we become? Is it our goal to become wraiths, specters, mere shadows of our former selves? I certainly hope not...however, unfortunately, we have become such, ignoring our own tastes for what is liked by your certain circle, what is liked by the group. Nonconformity is the only goal we need concern ourselves with...too many people are the same...too many people have lost their identity...too many people are mere dolls, TOYS to be played with, dressed and undressed, by the group. Is it wrong for the self? Definitely. But we still do it, nonetheless...

Nightmare: Max Night and Sean Kaos. You guys think you have raw ability and the ability to handle, exactly what "Hardcore" or a "Birmingham Street Fight" means? You know absolutely nothing about the streets, or hardcore. We are the epitomy of Hardcore. We are evil incarnate. Look at me, look at the scars all over my body. Scars from my past. Scars that make me who I am. I don't even remember where many of them came from. What I do remember though is the streets.

The streets made me strong. They made me strong in that, you always have to expect the worst. You have to be ready for anything and accept whatever heartaches come your way. You have to be able to take physical and emotional torment. You have to be able to learn how to channel the hatred of life and others. That is what makes us Raw. I have dealt with all the streets have given me. The streets have built me up, so much in fact that I no longer feel the pain. I no longer feel the joy that is pain. It truly is the most valuable gift, proving once and for all that you are alive. I, on the other hand, pray for the opportunity to bleed. When I bleed it is then that I know I live. How tough the streets have made me is easy to see. You both have to be feeling dread. You both must feel incredible fear.

The Dark Messiah: Take, for instance, our opponents this week in the EWCW. Mere toys for myself and Nightmare to break. After the stunning beatdown we delivered to them, they'll be coming down to the ring, covered in casts, protecting their fragile bones...much like an action figure, we'll be receiving our "gifts" all wrapped up, waiting for Nightmare and I to rip open the packaging to get to the goodies inside. The problem with toys these days is that they're SO fragile...the slightest accident can break it permanently. I guess people don't take too much pride in their work anymore. No matter. I'm sure that when Nightmare and I step into the ring, our opponents will become our "toys" out of fear. Just our presence in the ring sends shivers up and down teh biggest man's spine. The sound of us approaching would send an army into a full-scale retreat. Simply put, there isn't ANYONE who can handle us, just so long as our opponents can recognize that, all they'll escape with is a few broken bones, and maybe a shred or two of their dignity.

Nightmare: What can you expect from two men that made one of you lose and the other move on in the tournament? As a matter of fact how can you expect to even make an attempt at being tough enough for this battle, when you can not trust each other?You can not trust each other, because you Max Night will be constantly wondering if Kaos put us up to it. You Kaos will simply wonder if Max Night will seek vengeance upon you, at any time in the streets. You guys need to put those thoughts aside and worry about what I have had to deal with. With the suprises that await you out here and how you will not be able to deal with them as we can.

The Dark Messiah: Not only did we, the Unholy Alliance, shock millions when we made our debut, we also beat the snot out of both of you. How can you even pretend to put up a fight...how can you even DARE to step into the ring with a name that instills such fear in your hearts? Nightmare and I were MADE for brutality. Watch and witness the fearsome spectacle I'm about to unveil to the world! Watch, Kaos...watch Max...watch...and learn!

-The Dark Messiah reaches under the pulpit and pulls out a large suitcase. As he unbuckles the clasps, Nightmare continues the promo.-

Nightmare: The cold hard steel of a chair. You often pray that it doesn't strike your head, for me though I could care less. Nothing fits me better than when I taste steel. I may even supply you with a chair this week, so I can taste it again. Most however, hope that it hits the shoulder blades, cushioning the brunt, or that "PLEASE LORD" let the chair fold out word so it doesn't hurt so bad.

Like the chair, the Unholy Alliance will be merciless. We will strike every inch of your body, until you start praying to the gods in heaven to save you. You will beg not to taste our wrath again and again, but again and again you will feel it. Again, you could also be like the chair. You could be like the chair, in that as we beat you down, you WILL fold, caving in to the pain, fear and brutality we unleash on you.

-Having opened the suitcase, the Dark Messiah reaches into the suitcase, and removes said steel chair. He looks at Nightmare, who looks at him and nods. Messiah winds up, and creams Nightmare dead on top of the head with that chair. Nightmare barely even flinches.-

The Dark Messiah: Hmm. Just the reaction I'd expect from Nightmare. How about you, Kaos, or YOU, Max? Think you can do it? Do you think you can withstand a chairshot from the likes of myself? Or would you collapse like a cheap accordion? Frankly, I don't think we'll have to even resort to such heights as a chair shot to take you all out, Hell...I just need to take a deep breath, and the strength of our lungs will knock you over long enough for us to score a pinfall. However, just dfor the sake of making our match interesting, we MAY have to bring out the artilery...you just never know.

Nightmare: Two by fours. Oh how unrelenting that wood can be, especially for an already abused body. The strike out of nowhere and although they often break, the lack of give leaves most in need of medical attention. The Unholy Alliance is much like a two by four, in the fact that we will be unmerciful upon you Max Night and Kaos. We will have no give as we give you a sharp, stiff beating straight through the streets and to the hospial.

Interestingly enough, I can also compare the two of you to a two by four. You see, like the board, when the beating is done, you will be broken in two.

-The Dark Messiah reaches into the partially opened suitcass, and removes a two by four, gently hitting it over his knee, to show that it is, indeed, real, and not foam rubber OR precut like most of the "pros" use. Nightmare then looks at him, Messiah wheels back, and takes a huge swing, splintering the board over Nightmare's head, knocking the big man to a knee. However, Nightmare is quick to get up, and acts almost unaffected-

The Dark Messiah: Behold the reaction! I almost decapitated Nightmare, yet he only falls to a knee! It's plain inhuman! How do you take something as sinister and foreboding as this man out? It's actually a simple matter...just be more sinister and foreboding yourself. Now I can't speak for Nightmare, though I'm sure he'll agree...I do not fear anyone who enters to music as pathetic as "N'Sync." It signifies weakness in character, and a lack of self...the two exact things necessary to even be in the same LEAGUE as the Unholy Alliance.

Nightmare: The solid blow of a baseball bat. So unforgiving, that it could bust a rib, or cause internal bleeding. Unlike the two by four, it breaks only when you hit it just right. Chances are you will take the full brunt of the blow as the bearer blast a grand slam with your ribs or head. Holding it at the lower half, gives more force to the upper, landing more force in the blow upon its victim.

That could sum us up as well. We are unforgiving. We start lower, building you to not suspect what is coming. Then by the time we get to the upper, our force is so strong that one well placed blow could kill you. We have learned these techniques. However, we would attack you like balls to a bat. Our attack would be consistant, until the instant that we find that weak spot breaking you in two. At this point you wish you never signed the contract.

-The Dark Messiah reaches into the suitcase yet again, and pulls out a baseball bat, once again, he shows the audience that it is, indeed, the real deal, and not some souped up thing the "pros" use. Nightmare stands in front of the Messiah, who delivers an earth shattering bat swing to Nightmare's midsection. Nightmare is doubled over, and DEAR GOD...Messiah cranks back...*BAM* The bat strikes with a sickening cracking noise! Nightmare is down on the ground...but he's getting right back up, seemingly UNDAUNTED! Messiah takes the bat, and cracks what's left of it over his knee, then continues.-

The Dark Messiah: Man or beast? The world may never know. What I DO know is that he's up, and he's asking for more...which is mroe than you can say. Seriously...what DID we do to you fools to keep you down? I just threw Night on a measly flaming barbwire table, and I slammed Kaos on top of him. I've just done worse to Nightmare, and he's standing, talking, acting like nothing happened and asking for more. That is the mark of a champion. To bad we, the Unholy Alliance, as the EWCW's ONLY tag team, don't have any competition...and NO, you two DON'T count!

Nightmare: That's right. Now, saving the best for last, as it were. If you are fortunate as I, to have walked the streets, you have become very familiar with barbed wire. It looks so harmless. It seems, so easily maneuvered that you underestimate it. As you make a move around it, it slices through your hands, or worse yet, snaps coiling around you faster that any boa constrictor. The barbs piercing more places at one time then you ever though humanly possible.

I love the barb wire. It makes me bleed, reminding me that I too lead a pitiful life on this planet. Unfortunately, I feel that like the barbed wire you underestimate the Unholy Alliance. You mistakingly think you can easily side step around us, catching us off guard. Like the barb wire, your underestimation and foolish pride, will greet you with pain stabbing every inch of your flesh as Messiah and I coil around you like boa's squeezing the very life and blood out of you.

-Once again, Messiah reaches into the suitcase, and brings out a coil of barb-wire. He tosses it onto the ground, and grabs Nightmare, picking him up in powerbomb position, and dropping him back first on the barbs. Nightmare stays down, looking as though on a comfortable bed.-

The Dark Messiah: Well, the demonstration is over. Nightmare has displayed what he's learned from the streets. Why don't you two "apprentice street punks" take this lesson to heart. Why don't you do youselves a favor, and just not show up fo rhte match. Forfeit, and maybe you'll maintain your ptiful lives fo ra bit longer, maybe you'll learn when enough is enough, and call it quits BEFORE you do something foolish like hurt yourself. After all, Kaos, you've got a fine career at being yet another generic pop icon, whoppee. And Max, you've got a shot at being the village idiot, if you expend a little effort, and tryed a bit, that is. Of course, Kaos, if you truly think about it, you can't "look good" and "dance" with both yor legs broken, and your face disfigured from a viscious barb-wire shot. Max...I don't know about you, OR care, because you're just an inconsequential piece of ass-dust. You're nobody. realize that, and you'll go far...at least, as far as the local grocery for a few razor blades so you can slash your wrists once you note how pitiful you actually are.

Nightmare (Climbing up out of the barb wire): If you didn't get the message, or still underestimate us after last week, you will soon learn the error of your ways. However, there is some information that you and everyone else seeks. WHY? Why did Messiah and Nightmare do it. The answer is very simple.

You guys still don't understand. You are in a fight with the streets. The Unholy Alliance is like the streets. When you walk the streets as long as I have you understand. Are we aligned with Kaos? NO! Are we against Max Night? YES! We are against anyone who stands in our way. That includes Kaos. Why was he chosen the victor and Max Night chosen to be ousted from the tournament. Simply put, like the streets he was chosen at random. He was a victim randomly selected out of a pool of victims. Why do you climb a Mountain? Because it is there. Why do dogs lick their nuts? Because they can. Who are the victims of the Unholy Alliance? The entire roster of the EWCW, starting with you. I was chosen as the victim many times by the streets, my weaknesses on display for all the world to see. Then I learned the secrets of the streets. I learned that it was time to make victims, instead of be one. I learned with my demons, to accept the pain and lay it to the wayside, hiding any weakness, giving me the ability to destroy everyone and everything in my path. You will learn, that the victory is not so important to me, as the amount of pain I inflict upon the both of you. Max Night was the unlucky victim of a savage beating, and that is it. If he can't face it, I guess he'll just have to feel the pain of the decaitation while we TEACH him to accept it.

-Messiah folds up the cardboard altar, and the crowd slowly dissipates. Nightmare packs the suitcase with the fragments of the weapons smashed over his head, Messiah shoves the cardboard in there, too, and they proceed to wander down the street.-

Nightmare: Look. Look at these helpless bums, streetwalkers and gang bangers. They didn't learn those valuable lessons that the streets can offer. They all became victims. Victims of the horrors of the streets, as you will become this week.

At the top of the list you have the gang members or gangbangers *We see a couple teens spraypainting a wall* You could almost look at them as the worst kind of victim. They don't realize that they have been consumed. Devoured by life's lost lessons. Tempted by how cool it would be to be in a gang. They lean on their friends to build up that tough outer image, though they are faultering inside, screaming for someone to help them get out. They are the ones still denying that it can't happen to them, denying it hasn't happened to them. You both could be compared to these gang members. You are denying that you will be devoured and consumed by The Unholy Alliance. Denying that there is any way you will be abused to the point of submission. That you will not be the same as we and the streets devour every last ounce of strength and will from your body. Beating you down to that next level. The level of a street walker.

The Dark Messiah: The streets are a sad place. Desolate, damp. They are a mirror image of the things we DON'T want to be...yet some people..many people have to accept this. This is there life. Here, they don't CARE how much of a 'Superstar" you are, Sean, and they don't care too awful much about whatever accomplishments you claim to have made, Max. Talk means nothing here. ACTIONS, on the other hand...actions are what makes the world turn on the streets. Just when you think our words speak too loudly, we come in and prove exactly WHY we have the attitude we do. WHY we are the way we are. On the streets, My name, Nightmare's name, is revered. it is important, the stuff we do. We give the people somethignto look forward to, something to LIVE for...more tha what you do. Personally, I don't care what society thinks of me. None of that matters. The STREET...THAT'S where you earn REAL respect. So what if you drive a lamborgini, and have more figures in the bank than you can count on one hand. i'd like to see you survive where it counts...where things matter...on the streets. See you in the Birmingham STREET fight, Max, Sean. Prove to me WHY you deserve the respect you think you do. Make a name for yourself...if you can...

Nightmare:The street walker is a sad example. *We see a couple of prostitutes on the corner, talking to people in cars and some getting into other cars.They are the ones that actually, believe that they chose the street. They scoffed at the life they had, deciding that the street was a much much better place for them. They enjoyed it for a bit, laughing at the streets, thinking that they could never get sucked in. They still think that they will always be in control, when they lost control so long ago. The street has locked them in, forcing them to sell their bodies for money to survive. In the same breath it has humbled them, leaving them, with what they think is no way out. Seemingly they are trapped within the streets forever.

Much like them, you will be beaten into submission, thinking that you can escape us, by only spending a short time with us. Trying to ride the match out, only to be consume by The Unholy Alliance. What they all have in common, is that none of them ever realized the power that is within the streets they take for granted. The demons they fight day in and day out, would only prove to make them stronger if they just stop and accept them. I have accepted my demons and the blood dripping down my face, the lack of pain and my escaping the streets to the EWCW and a bond with Dark Messiah prove that. The streets let me go, because they had nothing more to teach me. Messiah used me as a demonstration so that you may see clearer. Each of these scars was a lesson that I learned. This week, they are the lessons, that you Max Night and you Sean Kaos will be taught.