The scene opens in the depths of an underground parking garage; the only lighting the cameras are being given coming from dingy fluorescents mounted to the concrete slabs above. The signs of erosion are evident, especially in this time. The melted snow from the surface had made its way into the bowels of this underground confine. Nerves were beginning to set in for the camera man as you could hear the almost paced pitter patter of his shoes shuffling in the water below. That’s when the sight of a burning red ember was seen standing directly in front of the camera.
It was apparent from the fumes being blown out of the darkness that the man or woman standing in the shadows was smoking. The glowing red never swaying until they began to speak, “So, I guess you’re wondering why you’re here? Did you even pay any attention to the address you were given?” The voice echoed slightly and the cigarette moved from mouth to hand as the figure took a few steps toward the light. His face still cloaked in the shadows, but a pair of black wrestling boots and a flowing trench coat floated into the small amount of light beaming in his direction.
“1401 Wilson Boulevard Rosslyn, Virginia; we’re just on the other side of the Potomac. Not too far from Arlington National Cemetery; but do you understand the importance of where we are standing?” The shadowed figure waited for the camera man to answer, but his mouth never opened, you only saw the camera move back and forth in the symbolic nature of a “no”. The figure took the cigarette back to his lips for a long, slow drag and then dropped it back to his side, “its okay, I wouldn’t have expected many people to understand where we are, or why we are even here.”
“Although, I figured the nature of my being, cloaked in the shadows unbeknownst as to whom I am would have given something away.” The figure stepped out of the shadows revealing himself to be Jesse Ramey. His long, wavy dirty blonde hair held back by his trademark bandana, “You see this is where William Mark Felt Senior or more commonly known to the world as Deep Throat met with reports Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein. Just a nice little history lesson there, but I’m not here for the historical nature of this location. I just enjoy places like this; and isn’t that what the BAD World Heavyweight Championship is really all about?”
Jesse brought his cigarette to his lips for one final drag before flicking it into a puddle of water below, “From what I’ve heard you have to be a little demented to want to compete for such a championship. Well, this dank, dark, damp underground parking garage is kind of what it’s like on the inside of my head. So, it was only fitting that you would find me here, I feel at home. Jared Wells, I know when you saw that Steve Johnson was pulled from the Cherry Blossom Chaos card your heart sank into your chest. You were filled with such anguish; the thought of Johnson/Wells the third must have been something you were really looking forward to.”
“Don’t count yourself as being lucky though,” Jesse pulled another smoke from his trench coat and flicked the lighter, “because you’re not getting a cake walk now. You may not know my name, but by the end of the show there will not be any cherry blossoms floating around, only chaos. You want to talk and talk and talk and tell jokes and think you’re a very funny person? March Fifth, Two-Thousand and Ten; you’re going to be met head on with a force unlike any other you’ve encountered in your entire career.”
“Wells,” Jesse paused, looked into the camera, and took one final drag from his newly lit cigarette, “at Cherry Blossom Chaos you thought you had the competition in New Generation Enterprise scouted. Well, get ready for a whole new level of extreme when you step foot into the ring with the sickest **** in professional wrestling today. The talking ends and you get to show the Washington, D.C. area exactly what type of man you are. So, are you just all ****ing talk and jokes, or can you back up those words with a little action? Cause I’m going to rip your head off and **** down your opened throat hole.”
With that final comment Jesse flicked his halve smoked cigarette right into the lens of the camera. He began to walk out of the scene as it faded to black.
