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No Smoking


Pressure Chief
Jan 1, 2000
(FADEIN: To a couch in a living room of a moderately-priced hotel. On the couch sits 'Hot Property' EDDIE MAYFIELD, a half-eaten bag of Tostitos with Lime, and a Playstation 2 controller, the wire snaking off of camera range. MAYFIELD is wearing a 'F451' black tee, jeans, and a downlow 'hoproperty.com' ballcap, casting a shadow over his eyes. MAYFIELD scratches his week-old beard and leans back, shoeless feet on the coffee table.)

MAYFIELD: "You know what? When you're at the top of the game, people pay attention to every thing you do. Some people consider being at the top when they have the big gold. Possibly its' being in the zone at.34 in regulation and you're behind by two - and they pass that ball to you deep in three country, and everybody KNOWS that it's a no-brainer that the bucket will count. It's the same for me, Hot Property Eddie Mayfield - YOUR BETTER - (Smirks) every day of the week. I don't need a belt that gets me into more trouble then it's worth when I go through airport security, I don't need to be on the cover of the Wheaties box. But what you DO need to see, is me on the cover of your PWI magazine, with a camel dangling from my lip like it's hanging on for dear life, with the caption reading: "EDDIE MAYFIELD PUTS TOM ADLER OUT OF WRESTLING - AGAIN". Yeah. THAT'S being at the top of the game. No, and before we start, Swayze Adler, don't even gas your head up thinking that putting you out makes me the bomb. It's the fact that when I'm finally done with you, you're gonna realize from all along that there was some a[BLEEP!]hole from Jacksonville Florida who could make Tom Adler tuck his little pig-tail between his legs and run for the borders of Canada. Not Randalls, not the (Waves hands in the air in sanctimony, mocking a Carolina drawl) ALMIIIIIIGHTY HOH-NEHT (Smiles) - no, not even the great and mighty CSWA Golden Child of the Month. Just little ol' Eddie. Thats' right. I've got your number, Tommy, and lord, you know it as much as all of these sad sacks sitting in the nosebleeds know it. Since you like history so much, I'll give you all a quick recap: Adler rules wrestling (In his mind.) Check. Eddie Mayfield emerges and blows the roof off of every fed he sets down in. Check. Adler runs like a chicken-s[BLEEP!] because he can't deal with the fact that no excuse in his 'rolodex of easy face-savers' can make losing to me not sting. So Adler dies, or whatever he does. Uh... yadda yadda, blows up a building, starts wearing Tom Cruise masks... yadda yadda... blah blah blah. Let's move on. So that leads us up to CSWA. I'm here, the MAN'S MAN... The PEE-ARE-OH of Wrestling, along with the Cocky One, and we make an entrance by putting old man Adler to sleep. Does Tom come to life, vowing to run me outta the sport? (Looks at the ceiling, pausing for a beat) NAH. I cave his skull in, and he slithers away. So what, you're back now, Tom? And you're pissed? (Laughs) and you got two pumped-up PVC-wearing goons with you and an attack dog with your back. Cute. (Golf claps) Well, you don't see me all breathing hard because you decided you needed to get some cash to keep your lights on this month and decide to come down from your cloud and 'teach Eddie a lesson'. Remember what I said when I got here, Adler, and your '<> X-Change 2001' or whatever you call the rest of your Lost Boys; I said that CSWA stands for Completely Sucks With Adler, and the longer your ugly puss is on TV, it'll start to mean Can't Stand Watching Anymore. The Professionals are the Ish this year, Tom, and your watered-down comic book superfriends won't be able to get the job done. So you wanna have your pets bite off some of the Pros? Bring 'em down. You wanna have Nate Storm put me through a lumber yard? Cool N the Gang, baby. This is gonna take a while, just like feuding with you, will be a slow, and drawn-out process, so I'm down with taking some lumps. Just remember on who you're dealing with. You like masks and all that kinky s[BLEEP!] I can run that too. You like deception and prestidigitation? I can run that too. They don't call my finisher #2 the Screwjob for no reason, Tom. So put your cards on the table, pal - let's make this happen. You want some mixed-tag matches? Adlers singlet on a pole matches? Bad micspots on a scaffold matches? Don't matter - I'm ready. I'm sure my boy Miles is ready after I sneak him this carton of Kool 100's up into his hospital room. But check THIS out: the sign on the hosiptal says No Smoking? Heh. In your case, that will NOT apply, because we're gonna light you up like the 4th. BELIEVE THAT."

(FADE as MAYFIELD gets up and walks off-camera)

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