Activasionn dawns upon us.

[Mike Corral]

.......WPW cameras plunge backstage to a dark room alit with an eerie blue light. A chain link storing unit-like cage can be seen in the background, and which is where the cameras get a close-up of. A figure suddenly moves, thought to be a piece of equipment leaned up against the chain-link cage. The figure, dressed in a familiar Eric Draven Crow Hoody, folds it's arms while stepping into the door way and leaning to the right, against the doorway. The person flicks the hood off and we see that it is Twizted. He looks into the camera smiling. .:.

Twizted: On August 8, one of the most important days in the history of WPW comes upon us. For that day is Activasion, the first PPV in the company. And it seems that Carlos Gonzalez has decided to book me in the first match against Dust. Smart idea, Carlos. Back on track here, The self-proclaimed People's King has gotten under my skin, acting like he's too good for this company. Too good for the fans, who pay his fuckin' paycheck/. Dust, come Activasion, you will see the same intensity that you are seeing now. No jokes, no little gimmicks, real intensity is in these eyes. I'm determined to take you out Dust, and make you 1-1 against me. Deny all you want, but the truth is that you got lucky that I didn't finish you off with the Greetings From The Bronx. You abused my knee, and that was the one thing that held me back. But come Activasion, you'll see what would've happened if I hadn't missed. You will see the lights as I lay your ass down for the three count, and see my hand raised in victory. In closing, to steal a little saying...Win.......if you can. Survive..If....I Let You...

.:. Twizted brings the hood back to engulf his head in shadow. He raises his fists to show white X's glow against the blue light. JTwizted walks past the camera as we fade to commerical. .:.

[Peoples King]

Just keeping this spot warm, will edit it with an RP by tomorrow.

[Mike Corral]

We cut to the back where we see the still-unfamiliar blue light room. The cameraman starts looking around until he sees a shadow move. The cameraman runs towards where the movement was. The cameraman gets there, but is quickly diappointed when he sees that it was only a peice of wood.

Cameraman: Dammit, I got to find this guy.

Voice: And just who are you talking about?

Cameraman: GGGGGGGAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The camera turns around to find Twizted in the Eric Draven Crow Hoody, white taped fists glowing in the light. He continues to speak.

Twizted: Well *looks at his ID Card* Mr. Johansann, let me lay some persoanl truth on you. I've been wrestling for two reason. One is the fame that comes with the job, and the other is street credibility. Like Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson, who was shot 9 times. Unlike the other rappers, he felt the pain, he experienced the pain, and he battled through the pain. It's called a reputation. And that is what I strive for when I go out there. I'm there to please the fans, do what needs to be done, and up my rep. Loyalty, reliability, they go along with that. And if you go to Activasion and spend your hard earned money to watch me fight against Dust, you're gonna get the fucking show that you paid for. You don't spend your money to watch punches and kicks, you pay to be entertained. And that is what I do when I go out there. I ENTERTAIN PEOPLE. Dust may be all about wrestling and fighting. There's nothing wrong with that. But Dust has to remember that the people pay his check, and if he doesn't deliver, than he is fucked.

On a personal note to Dust, he better realize that he cannot stop this man, the future king of wrestling. I created a reputation and I add to it everyday by being real. I go out there every night, prepared to die for the fans sakes. And Dust, let's be real here, okay? The fans need me, wrestling needs me, and your parents need me to teach you you little fuck a lesson. And as a final word, after my match against Dust, the roster, the fans, They will never.....forget me..Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go take my medication and get a little fucking crazy.

Twizted does the Straight Edge pose before walking away as the camerman gets the hell out of here as we....

FADE TO BLACK

[Peoples King]

Camera opens in a dark gym. There are shattered windows high up on the wall and nothing occupies the space except an old battered ring. A man stand in the ring with a trench coat on with a hood up. His face is covered by the shadow of the hood. The camera closes in on him and all we can hear is the howl of the wind outside and the breathing in and out of the mysterious man. He squeezes his right fist in his left hand, grinding his knuckles into the palm of his left hand as he squeezes. He looks straight down at the mat, stained from years of sweat, blood and tears. He looks up into the camera only revealing his mouth and chin. He doesnt speak, just looks right at the camera. Finally he raises his arms slowly and pulls the hood down.The face of Dust confronts us. Crows feet are prominent under his eyes. Dust looks weary. The Peoples King runs his hands up his face and through his hair bringing it back down again to rub the sleep from his eyes. Dust walks to the ropes slowly, looking around the ring like it were the first time he were inside one. Mr Television grabs the top rope with a double grip and pulls on it, straining the rope and testing its give. He lets go of it suddenly and the ropes wobbles, shaking with the release of pressure until it will stop slowly like the dieing embers on a fire. Dust runs his hands across the rope as he walks to the corner, turning his back and leaning into the hard buckle. He closes his eyes and breaths deeply for a moment.

Dust: Often times when I am on the road I meet people and they ask me just why I put my body, my career and livelihood on the line for people I would just as soon spit on. Its an honest question and one, for once, that I don't have any smartass answer to. I do loath the people that pay to see me as much as they loath me back. It is a funny kind of relationship because in our hatred we live through eachother. I hate the fans, yet I need the fans. The fans hate me, yet still the fans need me. We cannot stand the sight of one another but like two lost lovers we it cuts us up inside when we are away from one another. Its a complicated situation, a clashing of the brain with the heart. Why is that? I am the cockiest of sons of bitches who truely doesn't give two fucks about anyone but myself. If I saw a baby on fire I wouldn't cross the street to piss it out. Shit, I wouldn't even give it the steam off my piss. Its the same for any WPW fan, I wouldn't do anything for them but I still need them. I need their money like they need my skills inside the ring. See this ring. This is where my heart lies, this is the only thing in this world that I have ever truely loved. I open up inside the ring and let out every raw, every savage emotion I have pent up inside my body. Wrestling is my great love. A love I would give and sacrifice anything for. I had demons, we have all had demons but through wrestling I have exorcised those demons. The world of wrestling, in my mind, is the purest thing on this earth. Im not in it for money, Im not in it for fame or cheers. I wrestle for love of the game. I wrestle because I am the very best at what I do and it makes me feel like a God when I step between those ropes. Is there anything purer then that? No, there is not. You know I have had my problems with Twizted in the past but when he says he is in my game for money and street cred, well that just signed him his death warrent.

The scene fades slowly as footage from Dust versus Twizted comes up on the screen: Dust twists his body over to change the front face lock into a side headlock, and then falls to the mat in a side headlock takedown. Twizted starts to squirm free and Dust stands. Stomp to the back! Dust lifts Twizted from behind again, and hits him again with a forearm to the neck. Twizted nears the ropes and Dust jumps into the air to dropkick him into the ropes! Twizted hit’s the ropes, then snaps back off them landing hard on his back. Dust climbs outside the ropes and goes to the ring apron as Twizted painfully sits up. Twizted holds his neck and opens his eyes just in time to see Dust flying through the middle rope in a baseball slide like move that ends up with Twizted getting a mouthful of Dust’s boots. Dust goes for a cover!


It fades back in, looking out one of the windows. It is pitch black outside and the camera turns slowly back, looking at the gym. The gym is dark but for a pale light that illuminates the ring. Sitting against a turnbuckle is Dust. He has taken off the jacket and is in a Peoples Kings t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He stares blankly at the mat.

Dust: Twizted, I was going to leave you live in that alternate reality you saw graciously created for yourself. I was willing to let you go on living a false dream about how you actually had a big part to play in our match at Turmoil. However the moment I found out why you entered this business was the moment your alternate reality began crashing down around you. Did you see that footage boy? Did you see what I did to your poor, battered body? What did you see boy? You saw innovation! You saw drive! You saw some fucking passion for wrestling, for fighting and for being a fucking man! You say you are willing to die for those fans. Why? Because they pay to see you? Don't you realise that these fans would love nothing more then to see your career ended just so they could see someone Piledriver onto concrete or thrown from a 15 foot high Cage through a table. If you are willing to die for these fans then here is your ticket Twizted. Here is the man that would kill you. Not for the fans, for the game. I would kill you for wrestling because you are a black mark on its face. Money! Money!? You make me sick. At Turmoil I out wrestled you. I took you to school, ripped your knee apart and enjoyed every last second of it. If you think a low blow and a nearly hit Greeting From Brooklyn mean you had me, then you best go back to whatever wrestling school spawned you. Because right not Twizted you are covered in the after birth of that school, you are still an infant. You don't deserve to be in my ring, Activation I show you one more time just why the hell you don't deserve to be in my ring. Boy what I did to you two weeks ago was just the beginning. What Boris did to your Mexican compadre was just a tatse of what pain actuallu felt like and Im not talking about the back pains Ozzy had picking up trash for food. Without even meaning to you made this thing of our personal. When you spoke about what wrestling was for you, you made it personal. Your like the Bill Goldberg of WPW. A man in it for the money and nothing more. Except on like Goldberg you have a personal streak of your own. A........ losing streak.

Dust smiles and leans his head back against the turnbuckle. Footage from two weeks ago comes n the screen again: Dust turns around dazed to face Twizted. Twizted runs forward to do the scissors kick on Dust, but his knee gives out and when he goes to jump, he just falls to one knee! Twizted recovers quickly and gets back to his feet but not quick enough as Dust moves forward to place one hand over his shoulder, and one on his back. He jumps forward in a rock bottom like move, and Twizted is hit with To Dust! Dust hooks the leg.


Back to the gym and Dust rolls out of the ring. He looks up at the rusting turnbuckle and walks toward it, running his hand gently along its rough edges. Mr Television walks around the ring, looking at it with absolute love and devotion. He knows every point of give in that ring and every point of weakness. Dust rests his arms on the apron and rests his chin on his hands. He looks across the ring and breaths in the musty smell of the old canvas and all the history it brings.

Dust: Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust. Fitting isn't it. Twizted you said to the world that everytime you step into the ring you make a statement. Just what my boy was the statement you made two weeks ago? It wasn't a statement of intent unless your intent is to lay on the mat crying over a busted knee. The statement two weeks ago? Well let me answer for you. Two weeks ago you showed me and the world that when it comes to hanging with the big boys, that you haven't got what it takes. Two weeks ago you showed the world how green and ill prepared you were for the WPW ring. I have wrestled and ENTERTAINED all over the world Twizted. My name is sinonomous with high quality matches, high quality technique and boundless entertainment. From Japan to Mexico to Europe and North America. I have plyed my trade in the top federations in this world and came out looking better then ever. But see Twizted WPW is different. WPW isn't like other places I have wrestled. Before, I wrestled for established, big money companies. I wrestled in front of 25,000 people and in one case 82,000. I rose to the top of these established companies and showed I could hang with the established stars. What WPW is, is a company looking to establish itself as the alternative wrestling promotion in North America. So what WPW does is give me the oppertunity to do one more thing. To show the world one more time that there is one more talent I do pocess. That is the talent to take a fledgling company like WPW and bring it to the very top. I have done it all but all in companies already established. This company is my chance to be a Terry Funk, to be Bruno Sanmartino and even a Hulk Hogan. I will establish WPW on the main stage base on my talents, my charisma and my love for the game. Where will you be when all this goes down Twizted? You will either be on the job market or you'll still be where you are today, bottom of the heap. Fodder for the true talent. I have been part of this company three weeks and already I am making waves, turning heads and grabbing the spotlight. Before I came WPW was all about Brock Goodman, JMC, The One and The Stallion. Now though when people talk about WPW they cannot help but mention the name of Dust. One televised match and one White House appearence and I am already the talk of the town. Activation, I make my final mark before strolling to the top. I bring to an end this two week rivalery that has brewed between us. I do it for myself and I do it for the sport of wrestling. Twizted you are a cancer in WPW, you a tumour that needs to be cut out. I will do just that. You have tasted the To Dust but at Activation I would have no greater pleasure then making you tap out to the Anaconda Vice. It'll be my pleasure and it will be your cold, hard, sick truth. You stink of humanity Twizted. Don't quote me......... Just fear me.

Dust turns from the ring and walks into the shadows, he steps heavy on the hard concreet. Outside the wind howls as Dusts figure disappears into the shadows. And with that the scene fades to black