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[GreggG]

(CUT TO: Troy Windham, sitting in the back of his stretch HumVee.)

TROY: I don't care if GWE airs this tape. I don't care if they refuse to air anything I say. NOTHING will stop me. You think I haven't been sued before? You think I haven't been arrested? I've got Johnny Cochrane on my speed dial, ready to use one of my many Get Out of Jail Free cards.

I attacked Marcus WHO and the fans for a reason. I am the biggest star of all time and I deserve to be treated as such. At your Pay-Per-View, I was attacked from behind and slapped across the face. At your Pay-Per-View, I wasn't booked in the main event. I was in a tag team match carrying three guys who with they were one-fifth as famous as I am.

GWE, my mission is simple. Troy Windham-- THE ONE MAN ARMY-- has declared war. You say you're the best? The biggest? Well, I say different. I'm better than any man on this roster and a bigger star than anyone in the entire history of this industry. I DO WHAT I WANT WHEN I WANT.

And what I want to do, now, is to destroy this promotion. All of these league-- from GWE to NEW to the WFW-- all think that they're the next big thing, that they're primetime. WELL, GUESS WHAT? None of your leagues, none of these two-bit indie promotions operating in barnyard gymnasiums in towns no interstate will dare touch, matter. And why is that?

Because none of them have ME on their roster.

Yet, all I hear about is how these indie sensations are taking over, all these new promotions are the future of this industry, that Battleground Britain was the greatest pay-per-view of all-time.

FACT! Troy Windham is here... (cackles) to show you all that the party line being spun isn't the truth... and that the truth... is TROY WINDHAM!

Marcus Johnson, you were the first. I took you out, Hero, to show EVERYONE that the two-time GWE World Champion is a nobody compared to this sport's all-time biggest ticket seller. Hero-- I hope you come back, I hope you don't need your C-2 fused with your C-3 and C-4, just so I can cripple you again. I said before I didn't remember your CSWA run, but my assistant manager reminded me that I do know someone close to you. I remember, a few years back, some blonde bimbo trying to run up on any of the real-life superstars in that promotion. Yeah, how could I forget Tiffany, tying her up, letting scented candle wax melt on her body and then giving her a free mustache ride that lasted alllll niiggggghhht. But there's one thing I didn't get from her before you left the promotion for a full-time residency in the minor leagues, and that's a chance to stick my 9.5 inches of iron into her rear. Johnson, I'm going to break your neck if you come back into this sport. And then, when you're in a wheelchair unable to move, mashed potatoes smeared all over your limp ugly face, I'm going to take your wife and stick it up her ass while her face bounces off your wedding album.

John Miller, that little 4 foot 8 midget punk, he did the right thing. He got out of the sport the minute after he slapped me. Injuries? From a match against... (laughs) Boogie Smalls? Give me a break. The reason he quit the league is because he knew he bit off more than he could chew when he attacked Hollywood's Biggest Star from behind in Britain.

And as far as the man the Steel City Quitter lost to in Britain, Boogie Smalls? Smalls, my man, I'd come out here and crush you but then who would do my laundry in the CSWA? Who would go and get me my rolling paper? Who would drink the old water out of a bong just to make me happy, then? You have a title, Smalls, a title that I want to use as the coaster for my mixed drinks in my South Beach estate. Do the right thing, Boogie, and hand me the title so I don't have to put The Hip-Hop JJ DeVille into traction.

That goes for ANY of you. I don't care. Christian Sands, Adam Benjamin, any other no-name wanna be. I attacked this promotion once and I'm going to attack again. Next week, Troy Windham is coming and not one of you is going to be able to stop me. Each and every single one of you is going to get another taste of what a REAL MAN and a REAL ICON looks and acts like. The only way to stop me is to shut this high school gym promotion down. Admit to yourselves, Big Daddy Troy is the ONLY wrestler alive who matters and I'm going to show you all that this league... and each and every single one of these two-bit indie backyard leagues... is NOTHING. I'm the biggest star in the world and I'm going to make you all LEARN the lesson the hard way. If not... (cackles) it's going to go down... on your permanent record!

Windham, OUT! (FTB)

 

[JABolich]

Windbag

(FADEIN: A plain GWE backdrop. Road agent JIM HOSSELHOFF sits in front of the backdrop... in a wheelchair. A bandage encircles his forehead, and his left arm is in a sling.)

Hosselhoff: First off, I want to take a moment to say something to David Allen Black. I don't usually curse, but - f*ck you, you blackhearted son of a b*tch. Thanks to you, I have a broken arm and won't be able to walk for a good six or seven months. You deserve every bit of what you get, you sadistic bastard. I hope they lock you up in that damn padded room and never let you out.

But that's not the real reason I'm here. I want to share a few words with another heartless fool who thinks he's all that.

You know what, Troy Windbag? I'm getting sick of your shenanigans. It's bad enough that you come in here and run down our talent, but when you go out there and attack our GWE fans, you've crossed the line. Let me be the first to tell it to you straight up. You, Troy Windbag, are scum of the lowest order, and any of the great wrestlers in the GWE locker room could hand you your pompous, arrogant, backwards ass on a platter at a moment's notice. You sit there, dropping names left and right... Johnson, Smallz, Sands, Miller, Benjamin... yet you're not man enough to stand up to them in a fair fight. You tried with John Miller, and you know better than I do what happened.

He slapped the damn taste out of your mouth, and you ran off like a little bitty baby to cry in a corner.

Your ridiculous one-man-army deal is nothing more than a big temper tantrum because you didn't get your way - because John went out on national television and exposed you for the buffoon that you are. You're nothing more than a squealing little child crying for attention. Guess what? You're getting attention, but not the good kind. The only attention you're getting is the kind that'll leave you eating your meals through a straw, courtesy of GWE's finest talents. You've squealed long enough, Windbag, and I can't WAIT for guys like Smallz and Johnson to beat you to within an inch of your life.

You call yourself an army? I call you a terrorist organization. You're the bin Laden of this great promotion, and you're going down hard. Take my word for it.

And take my word for this. When you finally go head-to-head with the GWE boys and get slaughtered, I'll be there to laugh at you, because you and I will both know I was right about you, Windbag.

Now run along and play with your little pacifier, baby.

(FADEOUT)

 

[GreggG]

(CUT TO: Troy Windham, in the back of his HumVee.)

TROY: Well, well, well... if it ain't my old pal HAWSSSSS. The heart and soul of the GWE's locker room, the voice of the fan, the person who has helped define this league's common man image.

Yo-- you think what happened to you at Revoultion was bad? The sub-average goon who took you out... you know better than anyone that he PALES compared to the damage The One Man Army is going to do to this league as a whole and to you, personally. After all-- if you didn't think so, why would you ignore the man who attacked you and spend ten minutes calling me a coward than compare me to Osama Bin Afghanistan?

It's because, HOOOSSSS... you know better than anyone that The Boy Troy BACKS UP what he says. Battleground Britain, I got suckerpunched and slapped in the face by your dwarven world champion-- the same chump who can't say more than two words without dropping the f-bomb. Well, one day after slapping me, what does he do? He goes and hands in his papers and calls it quits and decides to go back to the Wal-Mart stockboy position he had back in rural Pennsylvania. You think that cage match did him in? A cage match against... (Troy snickers) World Champion Boogie Smalls? Hoss, get the Best of CSWA DVD I know you ordered off of NetFlix... along with A Tree Grows In Hingham, the Emmy-nominated Lifetime Original TV movie I starred in, where I played the older brother to an autistic pre-teen... and watch my matches with Eli Flair. Watch my matches against Hornet, Mike Randalls-- you know, REAL starts in this sport who, despite their fame, have still fallen to Hollywood's Biggest Star.

Watch those matches, again, this time without creaming your dungarees about how attractive I am... and realize that I've wrestled in the most brutal matches of all-time. And each and every time, HOSSSS... I got up. I didn't quit the sport. Unlike your former so-called World Champion, who flat-out quit. Leads me to believe that he KNEW he bit off more than he could chew when he suckerpunched me at Britain and decided to spare himself the ultimate in public humiliation.

But I don't hold that little 4-foot-five-inch down syndrome kid solely responsible, even though if he thinks he is EVER safe to step foot in a wrestling ring again, he is SORELY mistaken. I hold this entire PROMOTION responsible-- from the commissioner, from its wrestler to even the fans who help fund this two-bit clown college bushleague joke of a promotion. And Hoss... wheelchair or not... I also hold YOU responsible.

So, make amends with your family now, HOOSSSS. Make amends with your loved ones and all theboys in the back. I made an example of of Your Hero and fused his C-2, C-3 and C-4. Next week, someone else needs to pay... and you could be the lucky man I just happen to make famous. Slapping a cripple in the face? Pushing him down an escalator like he's Boogie Smalls' pregnant, illiterate step-daughter? Or making him watch, helpless, as I make everyone in his promotion realize that Troy Windham is THE BIGGEST STAR THIS SPORT HAS EVER SEEN and the only reason any of you gets a paycheck is because of me.

Windham. OUT.

 

[JABolich]

(FADEIN: The GWE backdrop again, with JIM HOSSELHOFF in his wheelchair in front of it.)

Hosselhoff: Do you ever shut up, Windbag?

You're really a pathetic little man, you know. First you run out crying like a little baby about getting slapped by a REAL champion and decide to take it out on innocent fans, now you threaten a man in a wheelchair. How big of you. But hey, bring it on, Windham. It's been 20 years since I've wrestled, I've got a career-ending back injury that flares up from time to time, I've got a bad arm, and I can't walk, but I can still slap you in the face just like John did and expose you for the baby that you are.

Actually, I can do that right now. J'Bu, roll the footage, will ya please?

(CUTTO: Footage from Battleground Britain of TROY WINDHAM confronting JOHN MILLER.)

TW: Hey Miller!!

(Miller glances over at Windham and lets a grin crease the corner of his mouth as he turns back to face the vending machine.)

TW: Yeah..yo Champ, I got somethin' for ya.

JM: Do you now??

(Windham gets right up to Miller and starts as though he's gonna slap him, but hesitates)

TW: Why.I'm gonna...I'm gonna..

(Windham stops and starts several times as if deciding if he wants to follow through or not. Suddenly Miller turns and levels Windham with a right hand that drops him to his backside. Windham grabs at his jaw and looks up at Miller in shock.)

TW: DAMMIT!!! I paid a lot of money for that dental work!! S**T!

(Miller looks down and rolls his eyes before finally walking out of the shot.)

(Cut back to HOSSELHOFF.)

Hosselhoff: Let's review. One: You hesitated to slap Miller. This tells ME that you're a lilly-livered coward who lacks the testicular fortitude to act through anything short of despicable means. Two: You sat there and whined and cried like a little bitty baby when Miller introduced your dental work to his fist. This tells ME that you can talk a big game, but you can't back it up. Surely the biggest star in Hollywood, the man who made wrestling famous, the man who's beaten doddering old ex-greats like Hornet... surely such a big shot should be able to take a punch in the face like a man instead of crying like a little girl.

Three: John's taking a hiatus because he's built up a number of injuries over the months and years that caught up with him - injuries he WORKED THROUGH, because he's got a big heart and didn't want to stop doing what he loved until he couldn't do it anymore. And here you are, whining because your dental work got scratched. So who's the bigger man here? And don't even call the man a dwarf, because he's 6'4" and weighs about forty pounds more than you.

If anything, YOU should be looking up to John, because he's every good thing you're not. John has consistently proven himself to be a great wrestler, a locker room leader, a company man, a loyal employee, a big-money draw, and above all a down-to-earth, pull-no-punches guy. All you've shown us, Windbag, is that you're a vain, backstabbing, lying, whiny little bitty baby who's too busy admiring his d*ck to see the world around him for anything other than what he wants it to be.

By the way - I did see A Tree Grows In Hingham, and quite frankly I thought it was tripe. Your acting isn't even B-movie quality. If Hollywood dealt out acting roles based on merit rather than on political connections, the farthest you'd get would be doing infomercials for All Butt Gone.

Go ahead, Windbag. Come after me. I dare you. I'm not scared of you in the slightest, because the minute you lay a finger on me you'll be admitting that everything I said about you was right. You're too scared to face the real men here in GWE, so you go after the cripple. But I'll tell you what. I've still got one good arm, and I'll happily slap you in the mouth and spit in your face no matter what sort of stunts you pull, not to mention signing off on the documents necessary to sue you into poverty. I've got a fleet of lawyers, buster. So yeah, gimme your best shot, Windbag, and I'll still be back to tell you off and slap your face.

You're gonna get yours, you pompous, arrogant fool, and you're gonna love every minute of it. 'Cause I'll tell you something. You're not dealing with a one-show-a-decade promotion anymore, and the guys on OUR roster don't dodder down to the ring on walkers or pop Geritol before matches like they do over in Greensboro. This is a whole 'nother ball game, sport.

And you're right. In this game... Windham... IS out.

(FADEOUT)