(Fade In: The Yonkers New York home of Zell Hunter, member of the Flock Incorporated and GXW Superstar. The next GXW Cruiserweight champion is getting ready to head back out after taking a shot break at home after his X-Perience match up with the "Psychotic One", Eric Davis. He is getting ready to head out when the camera crew catches him)
Zell: You know something? My life in Global Xtreme Wrestling just seems to get more and more interesting. First I come into this federation to take out my former best friend and tag team partner in the form of Devon Slayton, but my mission seems to have gotten a bit of course. I leave that part of my reason for being here and go after the GXW Cruiserweight title, to bring a new meaning to the belt after people like Kin Hiroshi and Eric Davis have soiled it, more Davis than Hiroshi. You see, when I mean Hiroshi soiled it-he made it from being a mockery into an actual title again-but since he dropped it to Davis, it's become more of a mockery...it's a sick joke now and that is something that I can not stand for. You see, this division-the Cruiserweight division-was not created for some sick ##### like Davis can dominate without being questioned. It seems sometimes that only myself, Hiroshi,Slayton and the entire Women's Division do more actual wrestling than Davis. I don't think the Women's division should be made to pay for what Davis does for it...which is wrestle in the wrong area of the federation!
(a slight smirk/smile appears on Zell's face for a moment, but it goes away as he starts to speak again)
Zell: Now, onto my "New Jersey Street Fight" with Inferno. Kid, I don't care what you've done in this federation in the past and nor do I give a damn, what I do care about is taking you out and heading back up the ladder to take down that punk Davis for the three count and the win. Before, I thought you were a cool guy, but now it seems that you're just another person who needs to be taught what it means to be a Cruiserweight and if I have to teach you the hard way, then I will. There's nothing I would like to do more than make you hurt and Inferno, don't think that where I walk, I walk alone because I've got a couple of cards up my sleeve that you don't even know is there.
(Zell picks up his duffle bag and slings it over his right shoulder as he begins to walk towards the door)
Zell: Inferno, the game is afoot-hope to you can keep up me bucko, because I'm out to take what is mine and that's the GXW Cruiserweight title...and to defend the honor of Miss Wang. If you think you can beat me, then you're Dreaming...In Digital.
(Zell heads for the front door and goes through it as we fade to black with "Opiticon" by Orgy playing)
(The Continental Airlines Arena buzzes with action as the camera fades in during the last period of play in a regular season game between the New Jersey Devils and the Nashville Predators. The camera pans about the arena, showing the mostly full seats of raving fans; most of them cheer for their home team, sporting the familiar black, white, and red, while other fans have traveled from out of state to follow the Predators. One person in the crowd, caught in the camera as it pans up the same aisle as the camera sits in, sticks out. He wears a black Pittsburgh Penguins away jersey. As the camera zooms in, it is most obviously Inferno, sporting baggy khaki cargo pants, the hockey jersey, and a light layer of stubble on his chin. His hair is messily spiked, pointing up and out in every which direction. His eyes follow the puck and he stands up as a penalty is called against the Devils late in the game. A smile finds it's way to his face as he begins to speak, most obviously to the camera only a few feet away now.)
IN: Hockey. The Christian's God's gift to the world. No other sport can touch it, beyond wrestling and you know, I figured if I hafta be in this hell hole called New Jersey, I may as well watch something I enjoy, even if it is the Devils. Let's hope they get their asses handed to them.
(A moment of silence as Inferno cheers on the Predators as they score a goal, tieing the score at 2 very late in the third. After this, he speaks again.)
IN: So it seems I'm coming face to face against the rook, Zell Hunter. Now, this guy's got a lot of balls to come around into my world and call me a kid like I was new to the game. Unfortunatly for him, balls does not win respect, nor does it win matches. From the last time we went at it, he's going to have to have made leaps and bounds to even contend with people like Davis, Hiroshi, and myself. He can run his mouth all he likes to about how the division is in a state of ##### at the moment, or this, that, and the other thing, but it's nothing no one has ever heard before, especially coming out of my mouth. So just save us the trouble, Z, and shut it. Get your mind off of Wang and get it in the game.
(The buzzer blows, signalling the end of regulation time.)
IN: Now, the schedule says that this will be a New Jersey Street Fight. Ooo, big deal. Nothing new here. Just get in their, do my thing, beat Z's face off a few things, and walk away. No big deal. You know, Zell, you talk a lot, but can you actually bring it to the plate? Do you think you're even man enough to last out there where no holds are barred? No one will be out there to help you escape from my wrath, and I'll personally make sure of that, so go ahead and pull your aces. Pull whatever you've got, 'cause you will need it. The deck is stacked in my favor and I hold the trump card. You can bet the bank on that, "kid".
(Play starts once more after a quick intermission. Inferno turns his attention to the game before his features contort in apparent confusion.)
IN: Oh yes, and how exactly does one dream in digital? Oh yeah, that's right...they don't. You just ripped that off of somewhere, I'm just not sure where. Very original, Z...but next time try to use something that makes some sort of sense, huh? It'd be appreciated. Outro.
(Inferno's features play into a scowl to visible disappointment. The buzzer sounds once more and the camera swivels to capture the Devils celebrating an overtime win. As the camera pans back to Inferno, he has already left his seat, showing the large #27 on the back of his jersey with the word 'Kovalev' printed atop. He is several steps away by now, his curses ringing out cleary. Fade.)
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