(FADEIN to the workout area of Scotty Michaels' Philadelphia loft. He is laying down on the bench, and it looks like there's about 410 pounds on the bench. The man, simply known as Heel, is spotting for him. Michaels puts it up five times, and then quits. Michaels gets up from the bench, with the ever-present cocky smile on his face..)
SCOTTY MICHAELS: "You know, ever since that miraculous feat that occurred at Scars and Stripes forever, I've been getting e-mails out the YAZOO... asking, Scotty, how did you do it? How'd you pick up a man the size of Tiny, and body-slam him with such ease. Other people, telling me that it was reminiscent of the Silverdome, Wrestlemania 3, Hogan slamming Andre. That is why, I'm showing all of you... with ease, that I am the greatest athlete in the WFW today, yet alone the world. Diablo thought he was slick, getting out of the match against me the way that he did. He swore that a ROOKIE, some fat-ass hick named Tiny, would cripple me. Well I handled that, the same way that I'm going to handle McMillan at Paradise Lost.."
"Ah yes, another match for number one contendership to the North American title. Geez, it seems like every day, another match to get me in contention for the NUMBER TWO BELT. That's all well and fine, because the man holding it is someone I have a score to settle with. A man who I've hated, as long as I can remember... well before the groundwork for our feud was ever laid here in the WFW. Yeah, he goes by the name Mike Manson. It's almost like we're DESTINED to step into the ring at the pay per view. The WFW has given me a few easy opponents, just to keep me on a hot streak... just to set me up for a match against you, Manson.."
"I mean, not that Mr. Dread is easy... damn, he's going by Chris McMillan these days, my bad. Anyway, McMillan, I've said it before and I'll say it again... there is not going to be anything stopping me this time. I'm going for that North American championship, with a VENGEANCE and a PASSION that you've never seen before. You may be able to beat that joke, Luster, but that doesn't show me a damn thing. The man's only won one match, and that was practically a forfeit victory. I, on the other hand... I'm on one of the HOTTEST STREAKS in the world of wrestling today. Since my TRIUMPHANT RETURN to the ring, I have yet to be pinned. Sure, a man climbed a ladder and grabbed the championship while I was handcuffed, but what does that prove? Not a whole lot, MANSON."
(The 6'10", 330 pound man known only as HEEL continues to stand behind Michaels, with his arms crossed...)
"Oh yeah, and for those of you who don't know the man standing behind me... he's my INSURANCE POLICY. The man who's going to guarantee that I continue my quest for the world heavyweight championship. He doesn't have a name, doesn't need a gimmick... he's HEEL, the most evil RULEBREAKER anyone will ever see in there day. He doesn't need to speak, and he sure as hell doesn't need to smile. The only thing he needs to do, is make sure that I am victorious. In any given match, and on any given day. With this guy watching my back, there ain't no way I'll be stopped this time."
"Paradise Lost, McMillan, you may be another roadblock for me... but by the time I'm done, you're going to be a sinkhole, 'cuz I'm gonna stomp a hole in your ass. Manson, you wait... I'll seeya at the pay per view.."
(FADEOUT, as Michaels lays back down on the bench and begins to do reps...)
