View Full Version : The Wolf at Dawn

02-26-02, 08:05 PM
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Feb-26-02 AT 06:09 PM (EDT)] Mojave Desert, California - The dawn of the sun beginning to rise over the endless sand dunes. The camera pans around focusing on a familiar ranch adobe, alone on a dirt road amongst the desert with no sign of life for countless miles. The camera pans downwards to the back of the ranch, where 'THE WOLF' MIKE RANDALLS is in the midst of his Far-Eastern influenced morning exercises and stretching routines. Wearing nothing, but black dojo-style pants with a drawstring - his short brown hair covered in sweat he aims several high sweeping roundhouse kicks right on the face of a busted up car hood. RANDALLS then shoots a rapid combination of forward hand thrusts against the hood as well. RANDALLS retreats as the camera follows him and sits down indian style on the sand and gravel...

RANDALLS: "Three may question my motives concerning the impending match in San Diego. After all, wasn't it *I* who for the past months has accused Chad Merritt of only signing gimmick matches to prolong my inevitable course to cross his path?"

RANDALLS slowly does a neckroll with his eyes closed and opens them slowly with a devilish smile...

RANDALLS: "With the incidents of Anniversary now behind us, I've felt it was necessary to clear all the air between myself and three men I've challenged for this match. For instance, even though I've recently said that I am 'done' with Guns - it still does not excuse the fact that he decided to return using my back as his welcome mat. While your ears and your ego may feel that my only intentions are to leap into a bloody war with you, Guns, the fact remains that both you and I agree that you're not going to go through with it. For whatever reasons we both hold in our minds, it really doesn't matter if you want to 'destroy' the house that BUILT YOU or if you're just not willing to risk walking around with a walker. HOWEVER, I wasn't just about to let sleeping dogs lie. For whatever reasons you felt necessary, you were the one who felt it was justified to sneak in at MY expense. You've known me long enough, Guns...and you know I won't let ANYONE do ANYTHING at my expense. While you can talk tough to Shane Southern or Wicked Sight and even Eddy Love about all your victories over the legends they hate. Anyone with a sense of history knows as much as you've beaten them all, in the end - you were the one who lost the hardest. And for every time my shoulders were pinned to the mat, or for every time I cried "Mommy." Truth is, your scorecard doesn't look any better. Any title you held, I held and more proudly. The Unified Title - the mark of a TRUE CHAMPION those days, you never touched. As the years rolled by, first I destroyed any semblance of fear, intimidation and dominance associated with you. Then blindly, you let Hornet and Windham destroy you of any pride and then willingly massacred any respect a fellow competitor would ever have for you - all in the name at getting back at those who wronged you. And now look at you, a withering, whining robot. Its been 5 years since that bottle of piss first hung around your neck, Guns - you say the same things and you still reek of (BLEEP!). You're nowhere closer to the goals you set for yourself, in fact, now claiming to return to ensure the 'destruction' of the CSWA. Wasn't that what you failed at in the first place? And worse off, if someone recorded your whining rants five years ago - they could replay it today and not find a single difference besides a catchy slogan. You believe Merritt and Hornet are the two-headed monsters that must be destroyed? I guess once a blind man, always a blind man..."

"And while you may believe you're something worthy of being out of Pandora's Box, I believe our friend Eddy Love only opened a mild headache unto the CSWA. Eddy, we'll all have to thank you for the countless hours we have to sit through every day listening to Guns, sometime. Let's just be sure enough wrestlers mention his name one day, so that will have a marathon of 'Guns talks back'. To be honest, if I was going to listen to the whining robot leading up to this, I wanted you to see exactly what you brought back. That's why you're invited to the party, Eddy - 'cause frankly after what happened two weeks ago, you really serve no purpose for me. For one, it's obvious with Melissa back that you'll be forced into continuing where Troy Windham left off. And since that sac of yours hasn't grown since the last time we spoke, I doubt you'd be man enough to stay the course WE WANTED to drive. Secondly, Chad Merritt doesn't want to miss out on the opportunity of you or Eli breaking each other's skulls in cold blood. Flair can point you to the tapes leading up to a Wheel of Death match to know where Merritt will send you, Love. Its your choice on whether you want to fight your battles, or the battles of someone else. You're no Legend Killer anymore, Love. Just another blind man that's become a piece of the set that Merritt moves around and plays with. You had a chance to be KING, Eddy. Now you're further away than ever. And at Primetime, my one promise to you is that I'm making sure I send you on your way..."

"As for you Mark, you're the most intriguing of the three. My curiousity stems in the fact that I want to see if your heart betrays your mind. And more importantly, if your body betrays both. You've traveled the long road, Mark - you may believe you hold the answers to the truths you've fought so hard to attain. Yet, to believe in oneself in the comforts of everyday life is easy. To believe it in battle, in WAR (RANDALLS pauses looking grim...) I only wonder if those truths will be held onto. I don't doubt why you've returned, Lost Soul. Every man seeks closure, but at what price? While this may not be the gift you were looking for from me, it will be what it must be. Your FIRST test begins at Primetime, Mark. You may have your TRUTHS, you may have your AWAKENING. But you do not have your CLOSURE, Mark - and at PRIMETIME, we're going to find out if you're back or just a shell of what you once were..."

RANDALLS pushes himself up with his hands into a straight handstand and falls over forward landing on his feet to stand up. FADE TO BLACK as RANDALLS continues his exercises...

04-06-02, 04:19 PM
(Eddy Love is fishing, but not off the bow of the 54 foot “LOVE boat”, but instead this time off a burnt orange Bass Master. As the camera boat approaches Love lands a nice 3 to 4 pound bass puts it on a stringer with a half dozen similar size fish. The Blue Ridge mountains provide the backdrop for Love who is wearing a pair of cut off jeans, a “Troy Windham” muscle T, small round sun glasses and has his hair which is now nearing shoulder length pulled into a short pony tail. Love casts towards the bank as he speaks in the direction of the camera.)

Mike Randles doesn’t want to play with me any more. (smiles) I have no use to him, he will “allow” Eddy Love to walk his path, for Love missed all the great opportunities that the Wolf has to offer. Mike I appreciate the sentiment, but I am not your butler that you simply dismiss.

Now I know most of you Eddy Love Lovers out there are saying that Randles has finally seen the writing on the wall. That Hurricane Eddy has rejected every Randles advance with the ease of a concrete wall rebounding a racquet ball, and finally the Wolf knows it…… that the Southern Dandy took Mike’s War made it his own little skirmish and beat Mike Randles at every turn….. But as much as I’d LOVE to agree with you, I’ve seen Randles explain so many losses into victories in his own mind, that I think he’s hardly accepted that he could never, ever, beat Eddy Love…. In fact in that warped peyote sponge brain of his, he’s probably quite unaware of how poorly he has fared against the Legend Killer.

So you ask me the guru of the CSWA fishing pond, why has Mike Randles, the man who promised a War to end all Eddy Love Wars decided to take his ball and go home. Well not only do I have a theory, but I also have a little spirit lifter for you Mike Randles. The Wolf’s feelings are hurt, I mean how can Eddy Love in the middle of this violent war have the nerve to attack Eli Flair…. How can Love promise mat time to Mike Plett, Old Man Arrogance and Third Class incorporated, without first signing a cease fire with a grown man playing war on the TV every week, a man who is so violent he once drove a stake through a man’s knee then reminded us every time he spoke three sentences for the next 10 years.

Well Mike, don’t be sad. I know you don’t like being on the same stringer with Flair, Melton and Mike Pluth….. And I know it probably hurt a little to see that I thought so little of the angling challenge that you present that I was simultaneously stocking the proverbial CSWA pond with Gums…… but Mike I can still drag you to the main event once a week if that’s what you need, it’s just that beating you up night after night in a mystery flaming midget match had not only become a bit, and don’t pout when I say it, Boring, but had also begun to drag me down to the middle of the card instead of you to the top.

So Mike I have to deal with what Melissa has dealt me in this Flair situation, and I may even take time to wrestle Gums, a man who thinks he’s a NASCAR driver sponsored by The Strongest Arms in the World and 3rd class incorporated as you can tell by the count on the number of times he let’s those tired ass phrases dribble off his lips……But Mike I got some more for you. I got more for you in San Diego and I’ll keep making you just as miserable as you make yourself.

I’ve heard of a Wolf in sheep’s clothing, but for a solid year now I’ve listened to Chicken Little in Wolf’s clothing. I played War with you, Mike, I took the hair cut, I out braked you at every turn and I’m standing here not only not broken Mike, but still King. Mike your a talent is exceeded only by your misery, you are a noble foe…. But a year later my sky is still not falling, Chicken Little, and WHEN HURRICANE EDDY LOVE GOES TO THE FAIR HE STILL ALWAYS GOES HOME WITH THE TEDDY BEAR.

(Love casts again, the rod bends at the strike, Love sets the hook and begins to play the fish. FTB.)

04-08-02, 05:57 PM
(FADEIN: 'THE WOLF' MIKE RANDALLS sitting in his locker room...)

RANDALLS: "Cute, Ed...real cute. But its a day late and a dollar short. Fact is Ed, the only way my shoulders have been put to the mat by you is at Anniversary. I won't go into what I already have in that regard, but let's face it -- if that's the only way you can do it, how much are you worth my time anyway? I read the writing on the wall, Love. You don't want the WAR and you're finding every avenue to get out of it. Flair, Plett, Guns -- go for it, Ed. Its not where my path lies. And that's why the only crown you'll ever wear is one from Burger King. 'Cause all you are is a Whopper with Cheese, Love -- just like those other fools. You don't want me with anything on the line, Love. You have too much to lose and too far to fall. Actions speak louder than words, Love -- and tonight, I'll make you deaf."