The scene is someone's backyard. JA is walking around, in his ring attire and a t-shirt that says "Steve Savoy impregnated my pet pot belly pig." As he walks around, he looks up into the camera, a slight smile showing through the mouth hole on his lucha mask.
JA: You know, some people ask me why I do it? Why I insist on going up against the best that this circuit has to offer.
I mean, case in point, one night only, right here, in someone's backyard, I'm going to go up against one of the best World's Finest Wrestling has to offer. By the time this thing starts, I may be facing off against this company's World Champion.
So why do I do it? Do I do it for the money? No, I made enough off stock dividends investing my A1E pay-per-view purses to retire off of eight times over. Is it for the women? Nah, I'm already dating a nympho blond chick. Is it the glory? Well, not really, although sometimes I wonder if I'm a glory-whore, but then again, I don't sell off pics of my gloryhole on hawtd00dz dot com.
So, why do I do it? Simple.
I'm clinically insane.
I mean, it's not that you're one of the greatest Dubya-Eff-Dubya superstars of all-time. I've been in the ring with legends. It's not that you may be big, mean and loud, that doesn't bother me, seeing I've faced off against TORMENT ON MORE THAN ONE OCCASION!!!!!
If anythign, I think it's the fact that you're a drug-addled sociopath with nihilistic tendencies that makes me insane for getting in the ring with you.
JA breathes in through his mouth and takes a gulp.
JA: But you see, I figure there are ways around that. I got some connections, some people who know some people who know some people who have had fearlessly unlawful, carnal knowledge with some people who have some... farms, if you know what I mean. And from those farms, well, I was able to get a hold of some of this...
JA holds up a plastic baggy filled with white powder.
JA: That's right, pure, uncut Colombian coke. Aww yeah...
JA's Inner Monologue: I sure hope he doesn't find out that this is only baking soda.
JA: What in the hell's going on?
JA's Inner Monologue: I don't know... I think Steve might have flipped the switch on allowing inner monologues to be heard.
JA: That... bastard... Well, anyway, disregard that whole exchange. Please? Pretty please? Well, unless you're the feds, and...
...you know what, nevermind. The point is, whether I really am going to try and placate you with drugs or just beat you out and out, well, I plan on walking out of this here backyard, the MECCA of all pro wrestling shrines, victorious and more importantly, with all of my limbs still intact.
Oh, and with all the change left in my pockets too. I know your kind.
JA sneers into the camera as the scene fades out to the BYW logo.