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A Real Pro


Jan 1, 2000
(CUT TO: Troy Windham, wearing a CSWA doo-rag, stands in front of a black backdrop. He is wearing an old-school Virginia Squires ABA retro jersey.)

TROY: Virginia Beach is a city that The Epitome likes. Hot bods down on the beach. Nightclubs that go into the morning. Yeah-- Troy Windham is going to go to V-A Beach for On Time, showing the world why Mr. CSWA brings more excitement than allllllll the rides at Bush Gardens and King's Dominion combined.

At On Time, it seems like I've got myself a match against a few kitty cats that I've wanted to break a piece off of for some time now. Craig Miles. Eddie Mayfield. The tag team champs who call themselves The Professionals. The Intruders. Two guys hell-bent on tearing people up on mic-work and presence alone.

Since you've come into the CSWA... the league that I call home, the league that my family has run since Day One... you've disrespected everyone and everything that gets in your way. A few years back, I would have applauded you in your efforts. But you know what fused vertabrae in your neck does to you? You know what a surgically repaired wrist does to you? You know what choking on your own blood does to you?

IT MAKES YOU LEARN THE WORD RESPECT, PROS. It makes you realize why Mel Gibson was so fired up in Braveheart. It makes you realize why Sly Stallone started crying at the end of Rocky. I own a lear jet. I own condos in the mountains and on the beach. I've made movies and mad money. My rolodex is filled with numbers from enough celebrities to fill up E's airwaves for a decade. Hell, I've had my jaun get wet from Natalie Portman, Anna Paquin and The Bush Twins.

No one took more shortcuts to get to the top than me. But you know what? I didn't know where the summit of the mountain was until I stood on top of a cage with Eli Flair opposite me. You don't know what it means to be The King of the CSWA until you leap off a balcony onto your arch-rival, just to take him out. I bled to keep The Claimstakers from taking over this promotion. I broke bones to keep The Claimstakers from taking over this promotion. I had IV's stuck into my veins to keep The Claimstakers from taking over this promotion.

And now, just because you two-- the same two who used to wait by my locker like a couple of 15-year-old groupies hoping that I'd give you my cell digits-- showed up on the seen copying the playbook from The Frat 1998 style, you expect me to hide and run? Just because you two somehow convinced GUNS to give up the dream of playing golf in The Senior Masters to come back to a league that surpassed him years ago, to a league where I beat him and sent him out to pasture, you expect me to play dead? Nuh uh. You want to take down the CSWA? Well, that means you have to take me down with you.

For years, now, people have been trying to do that. My brother couldn't. Hornet couldn't. The entire UWA roster couldn't. The entire AAWC roster couldn't. Mike Randalls couldn't. Eli Flair came close, but even he couldn't. Peep it-- I've made enemies with the entire sport of professional wrestling and not once has someone gotten the upper hand on The Boy Troy. You think YOU can do it just because you smoke cigarettes and are busy playing the role of "cool heel?" Nuh uh.

My partner, Shane Southern... he's been around the block a few times now. Do I like the guy? Well, I've never been the kissing babys and showing up at promotional events kind. Do I think Shane Southern has what it takes to fight alongside me and take you two out? Absolutely. He may be a second-tier star, he may not have headlined a CSWA event yet, he may hold a title that I haven't thought about in five or six years. But he's still got a lot of heart and I know that he wants to show the world that he's the equal of Mr. CSWA, this sport's biggest star.

And the way to do that? Show up with me in V-A Beach, take you out and show the world that The Professionals... should go back to opening up Amateur Night. (FTB)


Jan 1, 1970
You mean Real Cheese?

V/O: "Oh Troy, you had me at HELLO."

FADEIN: A burst of smoke hitting the camera. Once it clears, standing in front of the camera is 'COCKY' CRAIG MILES in front of the CSWA 'On Time' backdrop. He's wearing an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt with his Unified Tag Title slung across his shoulder, ripped jeans, no shoes and light blue Oakleys. His hair is all out of place, he's got a bruised eye, but MILES grins like a cheshire cat nontheless...and the always-present cigarette dangles precariously from his lips.

MILES: "To be graced by the presence of someone like yourself is quite flattering. I mean YOU - The KING of the Mallrats, the MC of the Minors, the Bomb-Diggity of the Teenage Daughter, the Shizzle My Nizzle of those that just grew a nipple. It's Troy Windham, EVERYBODY!"

(MILES snickers to himself, takes a drag off his cigarette and shakes his head)

MILES: "Now, Mr. CSWA aka I F(BLEEP!) twelve year olds has something up his rectal area 'cause The Professionals are DISSIN' the CSWA. Not only that, but growing out the OTHER side at a mere inch and a half is the respect he's gained for this sport. Well, whoopty freakin' doo, Troy. You know what I think about you? You know what I think about the CSWA? OVERFU(BLEEP!)IN' RATED. If I've said it once, I've said it twice. There hasn't been a soul in this place that is worth MY time, but to see their shattered bodies fall to a Pro...well, that's certainly worth my money. Do I expect you to run, Troy? I sure as hell hope you don't. 'Cause I like fun, I like breaking men's spirits. But if the past is an indicator, you will once the going gets a little rough for you. We're not like Eli Flair, Troy - we're not going to try and cripple you. We work a little slower, a little more deliberate than that. First, we're gonna take your pride Little Windham. We're gonna show you why it's 2003 and not 1998. We're gonna work you over on the mic and in that ring harder than an Iraqi POW in custody at the Don't Ask Don't Tell tent. Then once you realize you're in a world of trouble, a world you've always run from..."

(MILES takes a last drag and flicks the cigarette away...)

MILES: "You're gonna realize you can't hide, that you can't run. 'Cause you know all too well, that your game, your greatest moments have always come when somebody has their back turned. You can't come out of that crowd and Slacknife us from behind, Troy. You gotta walk into that ring with a man you don't even know you can trust. Don't think Shane Southern won't sell you down the Bayou, he's sold out Evan Aho and he's sold out the Intruders. That damn hick is alot sneakier than he lets on. And just remember this is a TAG TEAM match, you know that style of wrestling that the PROFESSIONALS have mastered and given a NEW standard of excellence. Troy - this is OUR turf, OUR game."

(MILES takes off his sunglasses and his smile disappears...)

MILES: "Now all that is fun and games, Mini-Mark. But now you want to come out here and call The Pros nothin' but copycats and your groupies? (MILES shakes his head) Just remember while you were makin' marks all along that inner arm, I was paving the way for a punk like you to make all that money and all those movies. You've made it thus far on a famous name, good looks and a catchy style, Little Windham...that's it. So when you talk about RESPECT, you better remember WHO to respect...'cause if it weren't for me, you might be stuck in tight green spandex with some facepaint."

(MILES puts back on his sunglasses and his smile reappears)

"But you know Troy - what the Pros are transcends smacktalk like 'cool heel'. When the lights hit ON TIME and you watch the fans scream through the rafters when OUR names are called, you'll see that you can't define us Troy. We don't need to give ourselves seven different monikers, or claim to screw every VD laden groupie that comes our way...just so the fans think we're cool. All we gotta do is be who we've always been...'cause Troy, when you're a PROFESSIONAL - everything you do, you do it COOL. And at ON TIME, in one very SWIFT and COOL stroke you'll see for yourself that this ain't 1998, the Boy Troy has aged 'cause its 2003 the year 'Cocky' Craig and HPI are the FU(BLEEP!)in' team to see."

(MILES pulls out another cig and lights it up.)

MILES: "Later Troy, don't let that syphillis hit you on the way out."

(FTB as MILES blows a smoke ring into the camera)


Choose Your Words More Wisely...

(FADEIN: GUNS sitting in his ranch in San Antonio, smiling.)

GUNS: Troy, Troy, Troy - it's amazing what you'll say when you think no one is listening. I'm not hitting balls with Fuzzy Zoeller and Lee Trevino just yet...and your big mouth has just written a check you can't cash - and guess who's coming to collect in Virginia Beach? (Smiles.)

See, the stakes were high enough when it was you and Shane versus Craig and Eddie...but since Merritt thought it would be cute to get two Craig Miles matches for the price of one, I decided to Intrude on your little party. That's right, Troy - the receipt I owe you from San Antonio comes due at On Time.

Kind of adds a little something to it, doesn't it? (Grins.) You shoot your mouth off, Troy, and you talk about respect. You shoot your mouth off, Troy, and you talk about the beatings that Eli Flair gave you. You talk about your neck - your wrist - the blood, the sweat, and the tears...and you talk about how it's made you stronger.

But deep down, you know it's made you weaker. (Smile.) You see, Troy, you always had it easy, but Eli Flair finally made you feel pain - Eli Flair finally made you realize that there are consequences for your actions - Eli Flair HURT you, Troy, and it's still there in the back of your mind. You try to display the same cocky attitude, but you're holding back, Troy - because deep down inside, you don't want to go back to that hospital bed, and you know I'm capable of putting you there.

So, you thought you could have a beach party - you and Shane Southern against Eddie Mayfield and Craig Miles. Now I'm crashing the party, and it's a whole new ballgame. You see, Eddie and Craig are Professionals - and at the end of the day, they want to win the match first and hurt you second. Me? I don't have a problem reversing the order one bit.

Ever since I came back, Troy, I said that I would rip the CSWA apart brick by brick. Now, I get my hands on "Mr. CSWA" - now's your chance to stop talking about defending the honor of this place and start doing something about it. I'm gonna be in that same ring, Troy- standing right in front of you. You won't be hiding behind a camera, Troy - you'll be standing face to face with your fears...and you'll back down like the spoiled little brat you've always been.

San Antonio, years ago, Troy - someone handed you a victory. No one's handing you a damn thing in Virginia Beach, Troy. You'll have to take it for yourself. You've never been man enough before - and you sure as hell aren't starting now.

I've seen a lot of phases of Troy Windham - the Slacker, the King of All Media, Mr. CSWA - you may think you're special, Troy, but as far as I'm concerned, you're just another souvenir for some lucky fan...

courtesy of Third Row, Inc.

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