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[EAST 1st Round] 3. Doc Silver vs. 6. Christian Daniels

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League Member
Jan 1, 2000
Amsterdam, NY
Match to be held at the Times Union Center in Albany, N.Y.

RP Deadline: Sunday, April 19 at 11:59:59 p.m. EST

The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
Jan 29, 2004
(FADEIN: Doc Silver sitting poolside at his Las Vegas estate. Doc is wearing an annoyingly bright orange "Garbage V2.0" T-Shirt and his standard sweatpants that have "Doc" bleached into the right leg.)

DOC: Look Daniels I did my standard 45 seconds worth of research about you and have found out that you're a biker...This is both fantastic knowledge and also pretty friggin' useless...I take it this means you're pretty big, somewhat scary and all around mean.

Lord knows if I had respect for you, or really for anyone for that matter, I should be worried, I should be scared that you're going to bash my face in, that you're going to twist my arms and legs till they snap, or pound my stomach with knees and fists till that sickeningly cliche 'internal injury' blood from my mouth starts pouring out.

But you see Daniels, I've been around the block so many times I've worn ruts into the pavement. Whatever your act is, I've seen it 50 times before, and most likely 40 of those guys were more talented then you.

So you're going to huff and puff and try to blow my house down, and you're going to beat me from pillar to post and I'm most likely going to bleed, going to suffer, going to struggle, but then you'll make a mistake and I'll place your giant skull upon my shoulder and drive you to the mat and get the three count you couldn't...That's the long and the short of this.

Now you might be struggling with a reply or a comeback, and that would be unfortunate, cause I want this match to have heat, I want to sell a few tickets, and really if some goofball is busy stumbling his way through an incoherent promo everyone knows you're not going to beat me...So here to help is a little segment by Greenie

(CUTTO: Greenie, rocking a headset like the ShamWow huckster guy, and a blue polo shirt. He's standing behind a small table that's got a book on it.)

GREENIE: Yes that's right fans I'm here right now with the offical "Reply to Doc Silver" promo script (Greenie lifts up the book which has those words written out it.)

You can hit on the fact that Doc's hopelessly out of touch with modern music and clings to the 90's like a pitiful old man who yells at kids to get off his lawn.

You can blast him for the fact that Vegas puts the over/under on non punch/kick offensive moves he'll land in this match at 4 1/2, and personally, I think that line is to high.

You can slander him for the fact that he lives in a sick alternate reality that believes the Dolphins are going to get another full season out of "Mr. Glass" Chad Pennington.

Have I brought up the fact that his wife is having a public affair in another league? The past drug addiction? The fact that he's a dry drunk?

Really Christian, you need this book, once you know Doc's backstory, it's like shooting fish in a barrel.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to Ceasar's to drop some coin on Lance Spenser going off at +950 against Dan Ryan, I'm smelling upset baby!

(CUTTO: Doc, still seated)

DOC: So now that hopefully you've been given enough tools and info to cut something that might convince Joe-Six Pack and Judy Punch-Clock that you have a snowball's chance in hell of beating me, I'm gonna get on the edge of my seat and wait for your impending reply...Cause I'm sure it's going to magical...

And I'm also sure it will do nothing to save you from being forced out of the TiT tournament...And forced to walk the endless path of misery...

Only Happy When It Rains.


The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
Jan 29, 2004
(FADEIN: Doc Silver sitting at a poker table, he's wearing a black T-Shirt that reads "GARBAGE" in red letters.)

DOC: You know a little knowledge is a dangerous thing...I mean I could have kept mocking you from a distance, just called you stupid biker names or whatever, tried to be all snarky as is my standard practice. Then something horrible happened. Something I wish didn't happen.

Somebody send me an E-mail about your career, your life story, your history, they foolishly thought this might help me better battle my opponent...Instead, they've ruined me...You see I wanted to be a nice guy...I wanted to be a TEAM player as it were...But you...God F*cking dammit...You're a joke...And well...I have no choice but to call you one...

You're a f*cking mass murderer?! Really?! You're the reason a series of small towns in North Carolina went to a skull based economy? This sh*t is real? (Looks disgusted) Well then I guess my anger at TEAM should be raised ten-fold, I mean they stick me...F*CKING ME...With a 3 seed, tossing out 1's to friggin' Dan Ryan and a few other people I've never heard of...And now in the first round, they put me in the ring with a man who's only hobby in life is watching blood pour out of people until they stop breathing.

I have an idea, I know TEAM doesn't do gimmick matches, but I'd like them to do one for me now just as a little favor, let's have this match be a "MURDER IS ILLEGAL" match...That way when you kill me, you don't get to go to round 2, because I'll have won by disqualification, while this sadly will most likely give Cameron Cruise a bye...I feel it's the only proper thing to do.

Of course I don't think you're a mass murderer, I think you're a f*cking b*tch, I think you're a pitiful poser of a man who wishes he had the balls to do all the tough sounding bullsh*t you put in your little work of fiction you call a biography.

Look assh*le I don't know who you're trying to kid with all this bullsh*t but the fact is that I really can't see a man with the piercing wit of naming his set up move "The set up move" as being somebody who'd avoid leaving any DNA evidence, a foot print...F*CKING anything at one of the scenes of his countless murders...Those CSI guys will nail your ass if they found a friggin eye lash...Yet you leave a wake of dead bodies in your path and nobody can ever tie any of it to you? I ain't buying this.

You're just another old wrestler out of a job and looking for whatever pitiful handouts he can get from a company stupid enough to employ him. So you build yourself up as this bloodthirsty bad ass maniac. Honestly man, that sh*t went the day of the dodo in the 80's...Nobody believes you...You want to be important in this business? Be funny, be engaging, make people give a f*ck about you...Do something, anything to make people not change the channel. But you don't have that in you, do you? So you fall back on a bullsh*t story that would make even the pitiful jobber alive wince at the idea of trying to call it his own.

And when you walk out to that ring, I want you listen to the mild reaction the crowd gives you...Sure you're 7 foot tall, sure you're a scary looking son of a b*tch...Sure you impress a few people...But then I want you stand in that ring and wait for a few moments, wait for your music to die down...And then listen when the golden vocal chords of Shirley Manson hit the PA system...Listen to the reaction from the crowd, they might boo me because I'm a jerk, they might cheer me because I'm a legend...But I WILL draw a f*cking reaction...And I did it by deciding I was going to put myself over as a mark for a band...That was my f*cking gimmick, and I make that sh*t work...And you...You could kill 100, 200, 500, ONE THOUSAND F*CKING people, and you STILL wouldn't get the heat I get from having somebody insult me, and I reply back to them..."Dog new tricks, you make me feel so worthless."

Because for all your bullsh*t...For all your hope of gettting any attention in this business...You never will...You'll forever be irrelevant in this industry...All you'll ever have is the knowledge that one day you pissed off Doc Silver, and he f*cking destroyed you for it...

And then you will know what it is to walk the endless path of misery...

Only Happy...When It Rains...

Last edited:


League Member
Jan 20, 2007
[Widely regarded as one of the most violent men to ever grace the state of North Carolina, Christian Daniels comfortably sits in his entertainment room. Black military issue boots dangle over the glass coffee table while the stern man who made the group 'Death' a statewide name looks into the camera. He adjusts the long denim trench coat covering his body and waits a few seconds until the cameraman gives him the 'Go' signal.]

Christian Daniels: So this is what TEAM looks like. The other side of the tracks where all the best talkers'n the business'r hidin' out. Everybody feels compelled to walk under the spotlights once in a while and test how they are in the grand scheme of wrestlin'.

Christian Daniels: And boy howdy, have you motherf*ckers lived up to reputation. Doc Silver, I mean for God's sake, your promos were so movin' I might nominate you to be President. You got such natural charisma. My brother Devin told me this would be a fun little outlet, get my feet wet in the wrestlin' ring again, but NEVER in my WILDEST dreams did I anticipate facin' such harsh and stiff words. They struck me down to my very core and changed the way that I think about the world and my life as a human bein'. I'm so ashamed of myself for enterin' this competition...

[The Biker facepalms and shakes his head.]

Christian Daniels: ...I wish Tyler Rayne woulda killed me with that bike so I ain't have'ta go through this s*it.

[With a perplexed look, Daniels looks back into the camera.]

Christian Daniels: Doc, the only thing I saw outta you in that first promo, boy, was a super sized helpin' of 1998 with a fresh coat of paint applied. THIS is TEAM? THIS is a 3 seed? Good God, what'na f*ck have I gotten myself into? Let me break this down so everybody can understand where I'm comin' from. I don't give three ounces of a s*it if you respect me, like me, or care about me. Forty years on this planet and I ain't never been in the business of makin' friends or tryin' to get people shovin' me on a pedestal. I'm here for the fight.

[The Biker takes a sip of water from a nearby table.]

Christian Daniels: You, Doc, are here for the entertainment value. You busted out the most generic line of all time when you said I ain't got a chance in hell of beatin' you. That's cute. It's like bein' able to suck your own d*ck without needin' to be flexible enough to actually do so. We'll hit on that in a little while.

[Another swig of water]

Christian Daniels: Although bein' generic wasn't the dumbest thing you did in that symphony of bulls*it you called a promo. 'Cause I'm apparently so dumb I can't respond to your greatness, you brought in some prick to talk 'bout irrelevant s*it goin' on in your life...so I could have enough material to make my promo coherent and convince the average fan that I might have a chance of winnin'?

[The perplexed look just got a bit wider.]

Christian Daniels: Anybody you ever got an edge over with bulls*it like that should be thrown off a bridge or stuck on some retarded reality show to have their dignity restored.

[The Biker shakes his head yet again.]

Christian Daniels: Dev, get in here, you are more in tune with the wrestlers of today than I am, participated in more matches than I have.

[Entering from the side door is the front runner for PRIME Douchebag of the Year, Devin Shakur.]

Christian Daniels: Why do we have wrestlin' matches?

Devin Shakur: To see which of the two individuals placed in the ring is the better competitor on that given night.

Christian Daniels: Does the better wrestler always win?

Devin Shakur: Not always

Christian Daniels: Does the most confident wrestler always win?

Devin Shakur: See my previous answer.

[Shakur exits.]

Christian Daniels: Doc, if it's such common knowledge that you are better than me, why do you feel the need to repeat it? You are so phenomenal, but you feel the urge'ta bash the point home. I doubt the people waitin' to see the match need persuadin' since I'm just the stereotypical big, bad, and mean biker, so who exactly are you tryin' to convince? I'm all “RAH, ME DESTROY EVERYBODY WHO GET IN MY WAY” and I sure as hell don't give a f*ck what you say, so who is it?

[Christian takes another sip of water.]

Christian Daniels: In hindgsight though, I guess it shouldn't even really be a paramount issue, Doc. You've seen my act 50 times and 80 percent of those acts are more talented than I am. You've already put yourself into a mindset that you are gonna make it to the next round. You have my MO down, memorized, blueprinted so that even a five year old could master it, and are convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that you'll beat me when we step into the squared circle. Yeah, and I'm the one who's gonna make the mistake so you can drop me on my skull.

Christian Daniels: ...F*ckin' idiot.

Christian Daniels: I don't need a miracle to defeat you, boy. I don't need to be the greatest wrestler ever to pin your shoulders. You want facts? I only need one precisely placed strike. Behind your ear. An uppercut to the chin. Loopin' left or right hook on the jaw. I can even use my kick boxin' reach since I'm a foot taller and drive my shinbone into your temple, buckle your legs. In the fightin' world we call 'em flash knockouts, or just plain gettin' knocked the f*ck out. Am I susceptible to the same? Absolutely, but I'm not the one flappin' my gums and claimin' I'll make it to the next round after stereotypin' my opponent into a broad demographic. I'd rather just get in the ring and start throwin' hands, see which one of us is left standin' after the carnage.

Christian Daniels: You ain't superhuman and you ain't God's gift to wrestlin'. You'ra human bein', plain and motherf*ckin' simple. You got 206 bones. If I break enough of 'em, you'll pass out from the pain. If you lose enough blood, your body will shut down and I'll pin you. But word around the campfire is that you like to bleed.

[Christian provides a wide smirk.]

Christian Daniels: I think we'll get alone just fine then.

[A long sip of water.]

Christian Daniels: Oh but wait...there's more. Someone did a little more diggin' on me and found out 'bout the life I live outside the ring. Some pretty interestin' s*it came out of your mouth when you acquired this information, Doc. You turned into a whole 'nother person, a giant morality case tryin' to put me down. You go from condescendin' wrestlin' veteran to the president of the motherf*ckin' vigiliante justice club.

[Entering again from the side room is Devin Shakur with a sheet of paper in his hand.]

Devin Shakur: Alright, so get this, apparently there is such a massive demand for PRIME that a website has been established, and one of the technicians did up a pretty revealing biography for you.

Christian Daniels: Really?

Devin Shakur: Really.

[Christian takes the paper from Devin's hand and reads over the contents. It only takes him a few seconds, and once he done a hearty laughs resonates through the room.]

Christian Daniels: Wow...Thanks kid.

Devin Shakur: No problem. I might have to murder you for making me jump down two flights of stairs.

Christian Daniels: I might murder you for bein' in the same room that I'm in.

Devin Shakur: I'll kill you later, bro.

Christian Daniels: Kill ya later.

[Christian turns back to the camera and rolls his eyes.]

Christian Daniels: Wow...Doc, you really are one desperate motherf*cker ain't ya? And a flustered one at that after readin' AN INTERNET REPORT. Lemme state that a second time so everybody can grasp it. You, Doc Silver, guy who has been around the wrestlin' block, went Mr. Hyde on the dumb biker OFF AN INTERNET REPORT. If that ain't just throwin' darts at a board blindfolded to see if somethin' sticks, I dunno what is. If it's on the Internet damn sure gotta be true, right?

Christian Daniels: I mean you can't even decide if I am what you are gettin' angry over. You say that I'm a joke, it can't be possible 'cause of CSI evidence, I don't have the nuts to do what the Internet report says, but feel offended that you are stuck against someone who makes it his mission to ensure you stop breathin'.

Christian Daniels: Decidin' factor ultimately ends up bein' your adrenaline takin' over. You end up callin' me a bunch of names, makin' fun of my move set, and say I'm someone beggin' for handouts. Got a question for ya...How does any of what you said matter in the big picture of our match? I can be every name that you call me but it won't go changin' the elements of the match.

Christian Daniels: I don't care about doin' important s*it for the wrestlin' business. I don't care if the crowd gives me a mild reaction. I don't care if you get bigger heat than me for a witty line. None of that matters when the bell rings. My sole focus is this tournament and my sole purpose is gettin' to the next round. Good for you that you received success by bein' a mark for some band...Doesn't matter to me.

Christian Daniels: Although I do have one little quagmire remainin' that I need answered from ya. If you believe that I'm not a mass murderer, as that appeared to be the drawn conclusion, what exactly did I do to piss you off? I mean if you don't read that Internet report then you just continue bein' condescendin' and call me stupid, probably throw a little more Greenie at me or somethin' like that. You didn't drop one word in the first promo that had to be censored and now you come off like Craig Ferguson's live act, swearin' every five seconds.

Christian Daniels: It just goes to show, Doc, that for all your wrestlin' experience you boasted about, you ain't got the mental experience to go along with it. You haven't come close to gettin' in my head and makin' me alter my plans, but without utterin' a single word I sent you into a frenzy. I got you angry without openin' my mouth or strikin' you. I guess you were right when they say knowledge is a dangerous thing...

Fade Out

The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
Jan 29, 2004
(FADEIN: Doc Silver sitting at a poker table, same as before, except that now he's rocking a bright orange Garbage V2.0 T-Shirt)

DOC: Well man we got through the whole token replies 101 taken care of...That I'm unhinged, that I'm angry, that I'm already off my game, while you're sitting back, calm, cool, collected, a master playing chess against an opponent playing checkers...

You're somehow upset that I was screaming and yelling...Have you been in this business for even 2 weeks? WE'RE PAID TO SCREAM AND YELL...That's how this works! You don't bring the rubes in by sitting back in a chair calming talking about this that or the other thing...This whole thing is based upon my face getting red and my cheeks puffing out...If you're 'to cool' to be emotional...Then that's your problem.

This is what I hate about you...Let me just make this clear...You hurt this business...That's it...I know there will be people out there saying I killed kayfabe or some sh*t in my last promo...That wasn't me...Not this time...I just found the body...

You're the one who's committed the crime this time...Cause nothing *nothing* good can come out of the abomination you proclaim yourself to being...

If you are the killer you say you are, if you are just a step ahead of the law like you tell the world you are...Then TEAM is clearly a corrupt horrible organization that taints everyone in this tournament, since TEAM consorts with a man who leads a known criminal enterprise and pays him to appear at their shows. Every dime they draw off you is blood money, and they should be sickened for accepting it.

So that's option one...You are a stone cold killer and the leader of a gang of people who do the same...

Option 2 is that you're a poser who aspires to this sh*t...Which makes you really f*cking lame...I mean honestly who are you trying to impress wit this sh*t? The guy from that youtube video who, with tears streaming down his cheeks says "It's still real to me!"

Yeah I'm stuck in 1998...(Lifts up his shirt the way basket ball players raise their jerseys) I'm proud of it to...Me being stuck in 1998 puts me only about a decade ahead of your gimmick...And 1988 called and said Michael Dukakis riding around in a tank was cooler then you and that no, it doesn't want you back....

Cause the fact is, I don't believe you, because you can't be believed, people like the abomination you represent don't get let out in polite company, they don't get to be beamed into people's houses across America, unless it's a documentary on how certain subcultures in this world can go tragically, tragically wrong and lead people to doing all kinds of bad things.

Mob bosses don't get on TV and cut promos, the guys who run the Bloods don't win World Titles...

You're a fraud, every time you're on TV it makes baby Eddie Mayfield cry. There are people out there who watch wrestling and they have friends who don't...When you come on the TV and start talking, the people who don't follow this sport start laughing and pointing at their friends who do...And then those guys, having been mocked and insulted go on the internet and whine about how they are sick of 'defend a disgrace like Christian Daniels to their friends'

Biker...Cool...Biker gang...Cool...Biker gang that does some kinda shady sh*t...That's fine...Everyone's followed the Felix Red/Mike Manson road of on-camera drug use and other such crap...

Leader of Biker Gang that kills everyone in their wake...Now you're full of sh*t...Now disbelief...Is shattered...You're a cancer and a plague on this business, people like you are horrible and shouldn't be allowed to wrestle outside of county fairs and VFW halls...

You are the type of person that kills the industry I love and have made lots of money in, you are bad for business and bad for the reputation of wrestling...I hate you cause you are everything that is wrong with wrestling.

And so I will do whatever I can to send you on you back to your sideshow with the vampires, the werewolves, the minions of Osama Bin Laden and other disgraces that are out there...

You have turned me into an avatar of defending wrestling...Anyone who knows me would know what a stunning turn of events this is.

Maybe one day you'll look in the mirror and see what a joke you are...Till then feel free to walk the endless path of misery...

Only Happy When It Rains



League Member
Jan 20, 2007
“So describe to me the feeling. Why do you do what you do?”

Christian Daniels giant frame is sprawled over a leather couch, legs crossed on the arm rest and hands behind his head in a relaxed pose. Cold eyes stare up at the white tiled ceiling and ponder the question asked.

Christian Daniels: The rush is just unlike anything else you can experience in life, y'know? To see your power displayed in such a way that it sucks the life from another human bein' is just...euphoric. When ya get in the heat of the moment, wrap yer arm around a guy's neck, strangle 'em and just feel the life fadin' away. They struggle, can't get out. Yer too strong. Breath shortens. Face turns all kinds of colors before they go out. Amazin' experience. Put yer fists into a guy's head until bruisin' gets so bad he can't see, can't hear, can't smell, blood comin out all the orifices...I'm tellin' ya, an adrenaline high like nothin' else.

Gentle writing on a notepad fills the background. A man is stationed in his leather chair directly behind Christian, one leg bent over the other knee rocking back and forth.

“I see. How often do you feel this urge to kill?”

Christian Daniels: Anytime someone crosses me or my family. I mean it ain't like I'm goin' out on a rampage for no reason. I 'ont care what anybody says Doc, ya gotta protect yourself and the family first and foremost. When ya live the lifestyle I do, lot of things happen, lot of people want yer head on a pike so they can have braggin' rights. Gotta survive. Gotta put food on the table to feed the family when yer the patriarch. I been down with puttin' em out since 91 and I ain't lookin' back now.

“Do you feel the people you kill deserve comeuppance or are you being aggressive?”

Christian Daniels: I ain't a stupid man, Doc. My decisions'r planned out. Never rush into anything blind because that's'ta way you gonna get caught and put six feet down yerself. All my targets ask for their punishment and I only put down the innocent when they get in my way.

“When was the last time you killed?”

Christian Daniels: Couple weeks ago, matter of fact.

“Describe to me what happened.”

Christian Daniels: Bastard kept hangin' around where he ain't wanted, followin' me around, tryin' to get cute on my wife a few times. I hurt the punk, Doc. Rolled up on him in his house and tortured him beyond recognition. I showed him what real pain was. Had me some balin' wire, wrapped his legs and arms so tight looked like the prick was'na reverse fetal position. To humiliate him more, threw this mop bucket over his head I found in the kitchen. Yanked some more balin' wire from his ankles, up the back, between the arms, and beneath the lip of the bucket, wrappin' it round his neck. He practically killed himself when he couldn't take the pain anymore. Blood spilled all over the floor...Ahh, wonderful site.

“Mr. Daniels, I'm afraid we have a problem.”

Christian Daniels: Yeah, I know, I'ma despicable human bein' and outta be condemned to hell right?

“Actually...That's not the issue.”

Christian Daniels: Then what is, Doc?

“You are a copycat. A poser.”

Christian Daniels: How you figure that?

“Because you just described the first killing in Michael Connelly's A Darkness More than Night.”

A shock wave of disbelief hits Christian's face, so much that he turns back and looks at the doctor.

Christian Daniels: Did I?

“Yes, in fact you were memorizing the portion in my room before we set up this elaborate scheme to deceive Doc Silver into believing you were at a therapy session.”

The lights in the room come up and the therapist in question is none other than Christian's brother, Devin Shakur. Christian can't contain his laughter, looking over at the television camera mounted atop the DVD player and giving a sardonic wave.

Christian Daniels: So I did...So I did.

Devin Shakur: Although, knowing Doc Silver and his crack team of researchers, cops are going to show up at the building and arrest you for the crime. YOU GOIN' TO PRISON MOTHERF*CKER!

Christian Daniels: Someone better make an addendum to my PRIME biography and throw this in the pile of rumors.

Devin Shakur: Wouldn't surprise me.

Christian Daniels: Get outta here, I got this.

Shakur stands up from his chair and walks out of the room, leaving Daniels to sit up in his normal position, feet dangling from the glass table and grinning sadistically into the camera.

Christian Daniels: Alright, I'll admit, that was probably pretty lame but ya can't blame me for havin' fun with this whole prospect of bein' a murderer. You're so consumed by it Doc, can't help yourself but call me out and try'ta make me look like a detriment to society. I got the look. I got the talk. Very easy to judge me just 'cause of that.

Arrogantly smacking his gum, Christian slouches a little more and gets comfortable with the camera.

Christian Daniels: But Doc like most of what'cha been sayin', you done got me all wrong. I ain't upset that you were yelling, moreso I find it amusin'. Lemme ask ya, if your boy didn't stumble upon that page 'bout me, how would you have acted in promos towards me? Continued to make fun of me for a biker, talk some more cute s*it about how I ain't got a chance to beat ya? Yer paid to scream and yell, yeah I understand that, but you sure as hell weren't doin' that to start. Yer now fixed upon makin' me a subordinate. It ain't a token response that yer flustered, it's the truth. Compare and contrast the first two times you appeared on camera.

Daniels reaches over to the same stand and takes a big swig of his water.

Christian Daniels: But let's get down to bidness, Doc. You seem to still be stuck in the possibility of whether or not I'm a heartless monster. Ya seem fit to continue speculatin. What point are you tryin' to prove, Doc? Really, how are you helpin' yer cause by goin' down this road? You tryin' to petition TEAM to call off our match or somethin', because the match is gonna happen. When we step in that ring boy...

Christian stands up and slowly walks over to the camera, hoisting it off the DVD player and putting it inches from his face.

Christian Daniels: I'm gonna kill ya...Or am I? You figure it out. You are damn good at being a detective.

Christian walks back over to the couch and plops down, taking another swig of water.

Christian Daniels: Ya say that I tell the world I'ma killer and stay a step ahead of the pigs...When I ever said that? Stop putting f*cking words in my mouth. You find an instance of admission on my part about that which I actually said, not some bulls*it Internet report. However, yer right about one thing though, callin' me an abomination and hurtful to the wrestlin' business, regardless of whether I'ma poser'r not. That's exactly what I am to the world. Cancerous. I oughta die. Be hung in the middle of the street while stoned by a bunch of angry motherf*ckers who I've wronged...

Christian Daniels: ...Because I'm really the first one in wrestlin' history to fall into the category. You wouldn't be this vigilante if I wasn't facin' ya. You ain't gonna be rantin' and ravin' about any of this if I'm not stuck against you in the first round. Say I'm stuck in the North bracket and ya happen to stumble upon the same Internet biography, gonna care then? You gonna take to the airwaves and run this little debate? Really doubt it.

Christian Daniels: 'Sides, I can name at least one other person in our bracket you could run into that falls into my same demographic...Hi, Rayne. Miss me, b*tch?

Christian throws up the one finger salute to the camera and number one seed of the East.

Christian Daniels: Go head and protest against him bein' a top seed in the tournament when he's just like me. Why ain't you runnin' background checks on his a*s? It's all bout you, Doc, always has been, otherwise you wouldn't be spewin' this bulls*it. S'fine, I can respect it, but ya ain't got no more legs to stand on when callin' me a f*cking joke or fraud. It ain't 'bout TEAM acceptin' fans money from f*ckers like me, all 'bout keepin yer head attached to yer neck.

Another swig of water, and Christian raises a pointer finger to the camera.

Christian Daniels: Although, say I fall into Option 2...I'm a poser, joke, gimmick went out in the 80s and I'ma habitual liar...The f*ck you worryin' bout then? You oughta be able to destroy someone like that in five minutes flat with yer superior wrestlin' abilities, right? I mean ya done said I ain't got a chance in hell to beat ya, right? Stop tryin' so hard Doc, ya might just kill yourself.

One final swig of water.

Christian Daniels: So lemme bottom line this since the next three minutes was you blabberin' about the same s*it.

Christian rolls his eyes.

Christian Daniels: Ya hate me because I'm everything that's wrong with the bidness and the blemish on society itself...Get in f*cking line, I been hearin' this s*it for years and ya ain't tellin' me anything I ain't already heard. No amount of talkin' gonna change whatever ya think I am. Get focused Doc, stop bein' attracted by the pretty glamor of my appearance and Internet reports...Get in yer wrestlin' mindset and prepare. Try to grasp the real situation that faces ya. Option A) Yer facin' a stone cold killer who'll go to the ends of the Earth to accomplish his goals and the W, in which case since you ain't a killer...You be f*cked. Option B) You are facing a habitual liar, livin' in a fantasy world for eighteen years, a man who has gone to great measures to keep his lie believable. One who has planned extensively just'ta keep up appearances. How far ya think that guy is gonna go to pummel you into the canvas for a three count and send an emphatic message?

Christian smirks widely to the camera.

Christian Daniels: I'm one of those Doc. I'd suggest if you want to have a shot, stop worryin' and start thinkin'.

Fade Out

The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
Jan 29, 2004
(FADEIN: Doc Silver in his home in Las Vegas, he's on the phone.)

DOC: So really, honestly, this Christian Daniels guy...What's his deal?

BLOODHUNT: Christian "Machine" Daniels? You're dealing with him?! Oh God...Are you sure this phone isn't tapped?!

DOC: I don't check for bugs...What are you talking about?

BLOODHUNT: Christian Daniels is a stone cold killer...This isn't even to speak of his actions in North Carolina, but in many circles he's believed to have been the government's point man on 9/11...Who you think coordinated the planes? Set up the charges?

DOC: You're kidding...How could this guy get into TEAM?

BLOODHUNT: How could they keep him out?! This goes way up the chain! You don't let Christian Daniels do as he pleases, you go away! Who you think is in Gitmo?! Sure it's a bunch of goat farmers in Afghanistan and some members of Al Qaeda...The majority are those who would speak out against Daniels...His loss would be to big to the FBI or CIA...

DOC: So that's how he gets away with all his crimes...

BLOODHUNT: Of course...Oh God...They are already here...I've said to much! If I don't make it, tell Emily I love her!! (A series of gunshots goes over the phone, the line goes dead.)

DOC: This can't be happening...

(CUTTO: Outside Doc's estate a car explodes in slow motion.)

(CUTTO: Back inside Doc's estate, Green Machine runs into the room, looking horrified)

GREENIE: Oh f*ck, oh f*ck, oh F*ckkkkkkkkkk...We're dead...We're so dead!

DOC: What the hell was that?

GREENIE: It's Daniels, his men are here...We're gonna die...

DOC: I got a couple guns in my bedroom, I guess we can use those in a feeble attempt to delay the inevitable...

(CUTTO: Doc and Greenie now pinned down behind a table they've flipped on it's side, automatic gunfire can be heard in the background.)

DOC: You know every now and then I wish I'd stayed retired from wrestling, like when my wife sends me a sex tape of her and Felix...And right now when I'm about to be killed by a mob of armed-to-the-teeth bikers...This is another one of those moments...

GREENIE: Yeah I kinda wished you had stayed retired also, since you're gonna get me killed to you prick!

DOC: Hey you knew the risks when you signed on to be my flunkie!

GREENIE: True, true. But I still don't enjoy being shot to death because you pissed off a man who works directly for Osama Bin Laden.

DOC: f*ck that...This guy gives Bin Laden *his* orders...You know right about now we could really use Shirley Manson as a T-1001...

GREENIE: How about Summer Glau as a T-888?

(Suddenly a wall from behind Doc and Greenie is blown apart and through the wreckage steps Cameron, the good terminator, played by Summer Glau.)

CAMERON: Come with me if you want to live...

DOC: Now this is really getting absurd...

GREENIE: Screw you! I'm running!

(Greenie and Doc run through the hole Cameron has caused, she stands there with her model like good looks for a moment and fires a shotgun a few times into the faceless mob of bikers before retreating.)

(CUTTO: Doc now in the passenger seat, Cameron driving a stylish new Dodge 09 Ram truck, Greenie in the back seat.)

CAMERON: It's important you live.

DOC: I kinda guessed that when you broke through a wall to save me...So what the hell is going on here?!

CAMERON: Christian Daniels is not only connected to the highest levels the government's intelligence community...He also deals in black market weapons and technology...

(Doc slumps over, buries his head in his hands, after a sign he leans back in his seat)

DOC: Skynet, really? Christian Daniels is involved in Skynet...

CAMERON: Miles Dyson was just a front man, a cover story...The Death Biker gang is also just another cover, Daniels' unslakable thirst for murder led him to design a weapons system that will in time destroy humanity...

DOC: Are we going to run into Catherine Weaver cause that's gonna get all kinds of meta...I mean really, I'm wearing a Garbage T-Shirt and everything...I'm already messed up enough as this is...

GREENIE: God friggin' dammit I'm finally gonna meet Shirley and she's gonna be a robot...(taps Cameron on the shoulder) This scumbag always sells me out around rich people, he's always afraid I'm gonna hit them up for money for sports betting...Well he's right, but seriously, what kind of friend is that?

(The camera pans to show a couple of motorcycles behind the stylish new Dodge Ram.)

CAMERON: Get down!

(The back window of the stylish new Dodge Ram explodes as a hail of bullets comes at our heroes.)


(Doc grabs the wheel of the stylish new Dodge Ram now for under 20K! as Cameron pops out the driver's side window and fires at the bikers...One gets hit and rocks his head back, before the slow dramatic turn towards the camera to reveal the T-888 metal and glowing red eye of Terminator fame.)

GREENIE: The bikers are Terminators?! This is crap! In the movies there was like 1 terminator, that's it!

DOC: If you watched the show they had a terminator a week and they could die by slipping in the shower, it was pretty pitiful really.

(Cameron fires a couple more shots...Causing the bike of Terminator biker to spin and crash into the other biker, who both go flying in dramatic slow motion.)

(CUTTO: Doc Silver, Greenie, the ever clueless James Ellison who spent the whole 2nd season never figuring out Catherine Weaver was a terminator, Cameron, John Henry the Anti Skynet-AI and Catherine Weaver in a room.)

WEAVER: You've been brought here because of Christian Daniels and his actions after Judgment Day.

DOC: What? After Judgment Day? I thought we were gonna stop him from building Skynet and stuff.

WEAVER: Humanity can't be prevented from building Skynet...Or so the ever changing plot line of the Terminator saga goes, about all we can do is try to win the war after it's happened, and that's where you come in...At the TEAM first round matches we've managed to sneak time distortion equipment into the cameras...Others working further back in the time stream are ready to pick up on our actions and broadcast the Doc Silver/Christian Daniels match at important moment in Daniels life...It's right before he attends a meeting that leads to the formation of the Death Biker gang...Seeing a man of your small stature and limited physical skills defeat Daniels will sway the other members to dismiss him as a joke...The most likely events re-direct to a time stream where Daniels is shot and killed in a failed 7-11 robbery 4 years later...Free from the meddling of Daniels, humanity wins the war against the machines.

DOC: OK, look, Sci Fi is always full of plot holes so big I could drive a truck through them...You can't just go run one of your frigging knife arms through his chest or something? I mean honestly, T-1000's are pretty much the ultimate killing machines...

WEAVER: I've tried, he keeps dogs with him at all times to alert him to any terminator troubles and has a flunkie...I think his name is Devin Shakur near-by with a canister of liquid nitrogen. I've been frozen and shattered more times then I'd care to recount...So I'm working on defeating Skynet, your job is Daniels...

DOC: And I assume you're going to continue to cover every other plot hole I come up with till I just give up and agree to defeat Daniels in the ring...Which really isn't that big of a deal since I was going to do that anyhow...

WEAVERS: Yes I would...

JOHN HENRY: Hello Mr. Green Machine, would you like to play a game.

GREENIE: Sure robot guy, I'd bet you the the Celtics recover from this game 1 loss and take the series against the Bulls.

JOHN HENRY: My simulations for that series show that the Bulls should win 45% of the time, which is a much higher rate of victory then they are being afforded in the Las Vegas Casinos...The smart play would be the Bulls...

(Greenie's eyes light up)

GREENIE: Ohmygodheistheulimatebettingmachine....Breathe...Breathe...I'm gonna be rich! RICH!!!!!

DOC: Really, we're all gonna be blown up in a few years and all you can think about it betting the Bulls money line?

(Greenie grabs Weaver by both shoulders)

GREENIE: Look Shirley...I mean Catherine...We gotta get rolling on this...We got the playoffs in hockey and basketball, the whole MLB season, I'm gonna need a little capital to start--

(Weaver turns one of her arms into a blade and runs it through Greenie's chest, killing him, Greenie falls to the floor dead.)

DOC: I've always wanted to do that when he gets that way...I envy you...

ELLISON: Wait a minute, you're a terminator?!

WEAVER: You didn't figure that out? God you're slow, and you'll freak out now about it, but honestly I'm a good guy, you'll find that out at the end of the season. Which kind of sucks, cause I wanted to own Cameron in a fight cause T-1000's can't lose to anything that isn't a deus ex machina.

CAMERON: If it would make you feel better I'll lose a fight to you now

WEAVER: Terminators don't have feelings, but sure.

(Weaver begins beating the hell out of Cameron)

(CUTTO: Doc Silver waking up, wearing a gray t-Shirt.)

DOC: Dammit...Whenever I fight mass murderers who then give up on the gimmick of mass murder and pretend they aren't mass murderers it always screws up my dreams...

And yet all of that sh*t still made more sense then you Christian...

I can't really even find a way to work to my tag-line for ending promos...Oh wait, I'll just play the song...I win again!

(Doc grabs a remote off his nightstand and points it at something off camera..."Only Happy When It Rains" comes on)

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