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| We open with an exterior shot of a large ugly yellow building from across the street. The road in front of this building is lined with paused cars waiting at a traffic light. It's daytime, possibly around noon or so judging by the heavy traffic in the city. We cut to the inside of the building. The camera heads down a faded yellow hallway with tan tiles on the floor. We approach a white door covered with dirty fingerprints, dents and other assorted markings. A woman's hand pull on a door knob, which doesn't even have to be turned because the doorway has been used so much. The camera walks inside and we see a counter with bullet proof glass over it. Behind, it is deserted. A ghost town. Just a couple of empty, rusty metal desks. The camera turns left and heads toward another door. This one requires the knob to be turned, so she does. Once through the door, the camera looks right at the wide open area behind the bullet proof glass. But she keeps walking straight ahead to another door just up on the left. She opens this door and heads out into a poorly lit hallway. A shredded blood red carpet is on the floor, the hallway is brown and on the walls hang paintings of some former police officers. Once in the hall, she turns left and goes to a door just up on the right. She opens the door. A metal staircase. We cut to a new level. In the background, we hear someone whistling. *Fo-fo-fa-feeee-fee-fe-fe-fu, feeee-fee-fe-fu, fo-fo-fee-fo-fo.* The tune is very familiar but hard to place. It is done at a very deliberate pace. We hang a left and are welcomed by jail cells. The tune is whistled again, and this time we hear a tapping noise along with the whistling. The camera heads down the middle aisle. All the cells are painted white and the paint on the bars is either chipping or rusty. *Fo-fo-fa-feeee-fee-fe-fe-fu, feeee-fee-fe-fu, fo-fo-fee-fo-fo.* The whistling is very loud and clear now. One jail cell is wide open. Inside, on the dull gray cement floor of the cell, is Sharc. He is wearing a black sweatshirt, black jeans and his regular hiking boots. His arms are on his knees, and he is staring down at the floor. Until the camerawoman bangs into the bar with a dull thud. Sharc looks up. SHARC: This place is disgusting. It smells like piss and 20 year old farts. It smells like sweat. It's hot as hell in here, despite the fact that it is only about 50 degrees outside. It's claustrophobic. I can't imagine anybody wanting to come here. Not caring. I mean, this small closet is supposed to fit up to four guys if need be. Four guys in this little space. Hmm. I wonder who would want to be here? Hmm. Couldn't be Andy Extreme could it. You see, I was recently watching one of your old promos and something started to strike me about you Andy. I think you have some issues. I mean, a guy who doesn't care if he goes to jail, and that is the impression I got, well, he might as well WANT to go to jail. I mean, after all, we ALL know what goes on in jail. Men get really lonely. I mean, maybe you'd like to be confined in this small space with three other guys. That might be fun for you. That actually might be what gets you off the most. See, why I say that, off the top of my head, is ever since you've been in TWW, you've made it no secret that your wife was cheating on you with some dude. You know why that was? Women cheat on their men because their men cannot satisfy them. Women cheat because they are not loved. And Andy, looking at you, I don't think you're capable of loving ANY woman. If you know what I mean. Hell, I'm shocked you bothered to pretend at all with that chick. I mean, everyone knows those types of marriages never work out in the end. I don't know if you call those pity marriages or maybe she did it for the money, who knows. But I guarantee you that if I could find her and sit her down, she would reveal the true secret of Andy Extreme. She has the key to the secret you're hiding in a, oh, closet shall we say. Let's review what I've seen you do here in TWW, just off the top of my head. I remember when you wrestled Epitome of Evil, seeing you chase after Eve in an attempt to get her and probably attack her. A woman. And then, well, everyone remembers how you viciously picked up my Jenny and hit the high life on her. Now, let me just remind everybody of something. Jenny is a beautiful young girl. She does porno movies. She is hot as all hell and only 18 years old. Sure, there is the argument that she does porno, she must have some sort of disease. Well, I got to tell you something, Jenny is perhaps the cleanest person you will ever meet. Never had one STD. All she wants is to have sex all the time. What is wrong with that? Apparently, you don't like big breasted 18-year-old nymphomaniacs. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I mean, we all have what we're attracted to, I guess. I just kind of feel like, after seeing you call all my girls hookers and sluts or whatever, you just have no clue even what to do with a woman besides beat her the hell up. Maybe it's because your mother never loved you like your Daddy did. Maybe Daddy was a better lover and you learned from the best, I don't know. How did your Daddy kiss? And where did he kiss you? Maybe you're so angry all the time at women because you have something you're trying to suppress. Maybe it's time I helped you see your problem. God created women for men. He did not create men for other men. You see, all I ever see you hanging around with is guys. I mean, it's great to have man friends and all, but if given a choice between hanging out with a beautiful girl with big (beep), a kick ass body and lesbian tendencies, hmm, do I even have to say it? No. Even though I hate to admit it, women are much better creatures than us guys. They are sex objects, yes, but my girls all got attitudes of winners. Otherwise I wouldn't deal with them. All you hang out with are loser guys. And it's fun to hang out with them once in a while and all, but I'd rather be staring at a chick and fantasizing about where I'd stick it in her first than to hang out with guys and fantasize about a smelly, sweaty, hairy, hole and sucking on his magic wand. Maybe I pay these girls to hang around me, but damn, it's worth it. Nobody is more loyal to you than a woman who is treated right. Guys are by nature, assholes who will drop you in a second. But, once again, it seems you like those types of relationships. Whatever floats your boat I guess. Static We open at night. We are out on a street somewhere in the same city. Sharc is approaching some sort of night club or bar. There is no line. He opens the door and heads in. SHARC: They wouldn't let me use the name of this place, but hey, they're all the same. GUY: Well, hellllllooooooo. Oh God, what is that? (He asks pointing at the camera.) SHARC: A camera. Haven't you GUY: Nononononono. I meant, that! SHARC: That's a hot redhead named Shirley. GUY: A woman! In here! Are you crazy? SHARC: No, I'm not. We are here on business. We were hoping to interview some of your, er, clients. GUY: Oh, don't be silly. What could you possibly want to talk to my customers about. SHARC: Nice lisp by the way. Why don't you go to a dentist. GUY: Excuse me? SHARC: I want to talk some wrestling with your, men. GUY: Well, as much as I enjoy watching guys play with each other in the ring, I don't think this is proper. These guys in here are just trying to have a place to relax and meet some other nice men. I don't think they'd appreciate having their faces outed on national TV. SHARC: We can blur them the hell out. Or you could just let me go into the bathroom for some of the guys with cream all over their faces. GUY: Excuse me? What kind of place do you think I'm running here? SHARC: Well, if it's like most places like this, guys meet at the bar, go out back somewhere and wait to get poked in the rear, and hit the road. GUY: Oh nononononono. You're going to have to go. (The guy steps forward and pushes at Shirley. SHIRLEY: Hey watch the breasts fagola. GUY: Oh God, I touched your evil melons. Andy will make fun of me for this. SHARC: Andy? Andy who? Wait, will you at least look at some pictures here and give me your reaction. (He holds up pictures of Chelsea, Shirley, Victoria, Jenny and Georgia.) GUY: (He gasps.) Just get out you two no good people. (He shoves Shirley again, who falls backward out the door.) SHIRLEY: Hey asshole, I'm gonna sue you for that! GUY: Kiss my ass. SHIRLEY: You wish. The door is slammed in Sharc's face. SHARC: (He helps Shirley up.) You see. Anytime one of them sees a hot chick like you, they just go on the attack. It's because they're so screwed up inside. They know they should want you, but. SHIRLEY: They're (beep) suckers. SHARC: (He laughs.) Exactly. So to keep fighting down those right feelings, they attack. Then they got their hard on and go get their rocks off with some guy. SHIRLEY: How can I not turn a guy on? Look at me! (She turns the camera around and raises it up and down over her beautiful body.) SHARC: I don't know. Oh well, let's head back to the hotel and wrap this one up. Static We open back in Sharc's hotel room. The camera is staring towards the hotel door. But just off to the left, the closet door slides open and Sharc's hiking boots stretch out. The camera moves up and looks inside to see Sharc sitting on the floor. SHARC: Andy, you know this place really well. Maybe it's time for you to just come out and admit what I know is the truth. Your wife left you for one reason. You couldn't do anything for her because you were thinking about who you wrestled last. The way he touched you and held you. It is truly disgusting to know that you have defiled me on now two occasions with your sinful touch. And once this match is over, I'll be glad to be through with you. Because you shouldn't be a regular top of the card guy. They actually have to wrestle each other. Which would mean, go behinds. I know you'd like that, but I doubt many of the other guys would. That would mean, you'd have to do those doggy style pins, whatever you call those. Hell, you'd probably do head butts to the crotch and take a big old whiff for a few seconds after landing the move. And God knows what else you would do. So, as always, we look to our Bible for some comfort. Comfort is this. Any men like you, Andy, go to hell. That makes me feel a little better since Friday, we are in a pathway to hell match. You see, you created your own pathway to hell in your personal life. Now I'm going to be your God passing judgment for your wrestling life. I am not going to just pull a cloud out from under your feet and let you fall to hell. Oh no. I'm going to be your God and punisher. I'm going to use every chair I can to beat the evil out of your head. I'm going to hit you so hard that you actually might look at a woman and feel something other than hate. But my main goal of the match will be to win. I'm going to win it for every insult you've thrown my way. For insulting my women. For insulting what I wear, damn that so hurts me. As you would say, my gay ass ring attire. Take away the words ring attire, and we have a true glimpse into Andy. All the thinks about are gays and asses. But Friday, you are going to thinking about nothing but how much pain you are in. You are going to be thinking, how many more chairs is he going to bash into my skull. How many more times will he throw the ladder down on my back? How much more am I going to bleed? How can I make this torture stop? And as I'm handcuffing you to the ropes, you won't be thinking about the pleasure it's going to bring as your all tied up with no place to go. You'll be hoping I don't crack your skull wide open with the billie club. But I will. I will beat you unconscious and win the match, and win the feud. I will prove that MY words are the TRUE words. I will prove that I am your GOD. And you will know my name is the lord, when I lay my vengeance upon you. Because you can't fight nature. You can't fight fate. You can't fight God. And you can't fight Sharc. Static |
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