[WEST 2nd] 1. Dan Ryan vs. 4. Big Wreck

[CuseTroy]

"The Ego Buster" Dan Ryan
1st Round: d. 8. Lance Spencer

Big Wreck
1st Round: d. 5. Mittens T. Cat

Match to be held at the Frank Erwin Center in Austin, Texas

RP Deadline: Tuesday, May 5 at 11:59:59 p.m. EST

 

[MarcusWestcott]

(Suburban Detroit... TEAM FFA~! and A1E Challenge Champion Big Wreck's home, as the Wreckster paces back and forth across his living room, while his best friend, toy rubber duck, and sidekick Ducky (~!) sits atop the television set. Big Wreck has a slip of paper in his hand left hand, and it gets wringed fairly often as Wreck paces the room.)

Big Wreck: Did you SEE this, Ducky? TEAM Invitational Tournament, West 2nd Round.

Big Wreck. VS...

DAN RYAN.

(Cut to Ducky, and then back to Big Wreck.)

Big Wreck: I KNOW, Ducky... we did pretty well in Round 1, but let's keep it real, here. That was against some retard in a fuzzy mascot CAT SUIT! THIS... this is DAN RYAN!

This is the Dan Ryan who has won like 437 World Heavyweight Championships! This is the Dan Ryan who was travelled the world crushing people under the awesome power of the Humility Bomb!

(Cut to Ducky, but Wreck cuts him off and keeps talking. Wreck is working himself into a frenzy.)

Big Wreck: This is the Dan Ryan that ruled EPW with an iron fist and destroyed jobber after jobber in the middle of his own ring!

(Cut to Ducky, but again, Wreck cuts him off. Big Wreck is pacing at the speed of a jack rabbit, his hair's all messed up, sweat is pouring down his forehead.)

Big Wreck: This is the Dan Ryan that slammed a 7 foot 8, 650 pound MONSTER in front of 127,000 people in the Pontiac Silverdome! This is bad, Ducky! This is REAL BAD!!

(Cut to Ducky, who finally catches Big Wreck's attention, and Wreck STOPS on a dime and WHEELS to face Ducky.)

Big Wreck: WHAT?!?!?

(Cut to Ducky, where we focus for several long moments (in silence, of course), and then we go back to Big Wreck, who visibly starts calming down, and the panic leaves his face.)

Big Wreck: You know, Ducky... you're absolutely correct.

Dan Ryan's just a man. He's a highly skilled, powerful, legendary man, but... he's still just a man. Men can be beat.

This is the Dan Ryan that tried to take over A1E... and failed. This is the Dan Ryan that basically shamed himself into retirement, only take off to the Great White North and some indy fed where no one's ever seen him again. This is the Dan Ryan that was OUTSMARTED by Beast and Irishred.

Dan Ryan... is not invincible.

(Cut to Ducky, and then back to Big Wreck.)

Big Wreck: You're right, Ducky. He's still a massive force, and will be tough to beat, but he's not invincible. And that means that I've got a SHOT.
And a shot is all I'm going to need.

(Wreck turns and starts walking up and down the living room again.)

Big Wreck: Yeah! Alright! Gettin' fired up!

(Wreck looks up and sees the clock. It's 6:17 PM. Wreck's eyes go WIIIIIIDE in shock.)

Big Wreck: OH, SH*T!! I'm gonna be LATE!! Oh man, she's gonna be PISSED! DUCKY! PLEEEEEEEEASE tell me you went to the store!

(Cut to Ducky, and then back to Big Wreck.)

Big Wreck: And you got EVERYTHING I asked for?

(Cut to Ducky, and then back to Big Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Corn flakes?

(Cut to Ducky, and then back to Big Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Staples?

(Cut to Ducky, and then back to Big Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Leather straps?

(Cut to Ducky, and then back to Big Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Red dye #5?

(Cut to Ducky, and then back to Big Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Canola oil?

(Cut to Ducky, and then back to Big Wreck.)

Big Wreck: And the funnel?

(Cut to Ducky, and then back to Big Wreck.)

Big Wreck: AWESOME! Tonight is going to ROCK!! She's gonna LOVE this!

(Fade to black.)

 

[DBrunkGXW]

"So your tellin' me there's a chance...." - Lloyd Christmas, Dumb and Dumber

FADE IN.....

Houston, TX - On the roof of a penthouse apartment in downtown Houston, Dan Ryan lounges, overlooking the skyline and specifically just below, the Toyota Center.

Ryan has the prerequisite photo ops sitting on the chair next to him, the CSWA UNIFIED World Championship and the NAPW World Tag Team Title.

Ryan: "So Wreck, nice to meet you sir."

"I don't think we've crossed paths exactly just yet. Were you in A1E yet when I was running roughshod over it a few years back? I know I never signed you to EPW when I was running the show there, so we didn't meet up there."

"Did you ever wrestle for NFW? CSWA? NAPW?....hmm...WFW? I know it's been years since they did a show...what about here in TEAM? Have we come across here before?"

"You know, Wreck...what you really need to do right now is put down the talking points that Marcus Westcott slipped under your door and come back down to Earth for just a second."

"For one thing, you don't know me sir."

"You fall squarely into that category of people who read the newspapers, listen to the stories and all that, but never really put in the actual work."

"You've got an interesting twist on history, as well. Was it Marcus who told you that he outsmarted me in A1E? And Irishred too?? Wreck...seriously?"

"Tell you what. Marcus can puff out his chest and take credit for something he didn't do from now until the end of time. It won't change facts. And you know, it's pretty weak to attempt to rewrite a history that just happened last year. Because Wreck? The way I remember it? The way actual recorded television remembers it? I finished A1E. I put a stake through its heart and Westcott's heart right in the middle of the ring, and he knows it."

"So what happened?? What happened was only one man broke through my plan. Only one man had any effect on what I planned to do, and it wasn't by means of force or numbers or anything else that he stopped what I originally planned to do - because as I stood there, as I prepared to switch off the lights on that stupid little company he loves so much, it was Big Dog who appealed to me on a personal level."

"It was Big Dog who said please....please don't end it this way. He appealed to me as a friend, and I gave him his wish - one shot at ending it once and for all. In the end, Wreck...it was I who took a seat on the concrete in the bowels of that arena and took the ten count. I chose to walk away, Wreck. I chose it. I don't care how much Westcott says otherwise...."

"Marcus Westcott...wasn't even a factor."

"Irishred....wasn't even a factor."

"In fact, by then...I had put Irishred in a wheelchair. But he outsmarted me, right?? Irishred couldn't outsmart a can of peaches. Not even the kind in the pool of syrup..."

"I listen to you talk and I'm amazed that you would even bother with some of these claims. You might as well claim that Japan actually won World War II. Might as well say the Knicks really beat the Bulls, the Patriots really went 19-0."

"Then I realized..."

"You talk to a plastic toy duck."

"So then I think.......nevermind."

"Most importantly though, Wreck?? You need a hell of a lot more than a shot, buddy. You need the planets to align, you need a miracle to happen, you need Pat Robertson on his knees in prayer. My friend, you need cats and dogs living together."

"Wreck, you're a tough kid. You've done well. But my man, I've had at least one gold belt around my waist since 2006. I've supposedly been retired for a while now and I still have two on that chair over there."

"You need more than a shot, Wreck. You need an army."

"But hey, in the very least...from the looks of things, you have a fun night ahead of you."

"Save me some corn flakes, will ya?"

FADE OUT.....

 

[MarcusWestcott]

(Fade in...

Big Wreck is focused on prominently in the opening shot, wearing a head strap with a light attached to it - the light is right in the middle of Wreck's forehead, shining brightly at whatever's beneath him. He's also wearing a medical mask, and by the look of the color and type of fabric of the garment he's wearing, it's medical scrubs. Big Wreck holds a pair of tweezers in his rubber-gloved hand.)

Big Wreck: Ok... Ducky... can you tell me what's going on with this patient? A Mr... (Wreck grabs a clipboard and flips a page) Ryan... is it?

(We cut to Ducky, who also has his own mini-headlight, tiny scrubs, and his own clipboard along with a miniature stethoscope, and then cut back to Wreck.)

Big Wreck: I see. (Wreck leans in a little closer, the head lamp's glare flashing in the camera.) Hmmm.... yes.. mmhmm... indeed. It's not looking good. We're going to have to operate.

(As Wreck cracks his knuckles, we cut to Ducky, and then back to Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Oh, I see. You already figured that out. Oh my, yes, that's a very nice Y-incision, Ducky. Alrigh, now that the patient's opened up, it's time to get rid of that obstruction that's causing loss of blood flow to the brain.

(Cut to Ducky, and back to Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Oh yes, it's very serious. In the worst cases, it can lead to short-term memory loss, although there have been a couple reported cases of complete memory failure. But, in Mr. Ryan's case, from what I've been able to tell, it just leads to mass assumptions and diatribes leading in the exact opposite direction from the original topic. This shouldn't be too hard to resolve. We'll go in there, do our business, and be back out faster than you can shout ARRIBA!

(A quizzical look comes over Wreck's face for a moment, but he quickly shakes it off.)

Big Wreck: Hmmm... sounds like an evening at the Cameron Cruise house.

(Wreck pauses and takes a gigantic breath, calming himself.)

Big Wreck: Ok, Ducky, we're going in.

(Wreck movies his tweezer hand closer to the camera as Wreck's brow furrows in concentration. His hand passes just beyond the view of the lens.)

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!!

(Wreck jumps back in shock!)

Big Wreck: DAMMIT! Just got a little too close to the edge, there. I don't think there was any permanent damage done. Let's try again.

(Again, Wreck brings his tweezer hand down towards the camera.)

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!!

(Wreck again gets jumpy. He's a little more panicked now.)

Big Wreck: OH SH*T!! SH*T!! Ducky... we've REALLY hit a nerve here! If we're not careful, we could REALLY set him off!

(Cut to Ducky, and back to Wreck.)

Big Wreck: What?!? ABORT?!?! Are you kidding, man? Have you got testicles or coffee beans under those feathers? Not when we're SO CLOSE! We can still save this one! I've GOT to try again! I will NOT lose another one today!

(Wreck goes in one more time. His hand shakes a little bit, but he steels himself and presses on. His eyes widen as his hands close the tweezers, and he starts pulling his hand back into view.)

Big Wreck: Steady... steady, big fella... you're doing just fine...

(Finally, Wreck raises his hand high, and in the tweezers, is a small screw. Wreck holds it up high, looking at it in the light.)

Big Wreck: SUCCESS!! YES! We've saved the patient! Just as I thought, Ducky! He had a screw loose!

(Cut to Ducky, and back to Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Yeah, ok. That was lame. But it FIT! Ducky, can you please close the patient?

(Cut to Ducky, who is now perched on top of an "Operation" game, and back to Wreck, who puts down the tweezers and screw.)

Big Wreck: Excellent. Thank you.

(Big Wreck turns, and the camera follows him as he takes off his rubber gloves, medical mask, and headlamp, and sits on his favorite chair. There's a glass of Coke beside him, and he takes a nice long chug before setting the glass back down.)

Big Wreck: Ahhh... I love it when things work out. But maybe not everything's as rosy as I think it is.

You're right about one thing, Mr. Ryan. We've never met. I was in A1E long before you showed up in the promotion, but I got injured at one of the Pier Six Brawls, and just came back not all that long ago. So I wouldn't expect you to know me.

We've never met, but I've certainly heard of you, sir. Even though I was injured, that didn't keep me from watching A1E every other Friday night. I followed the federation quite closely while I was gone. I love watching wrestling. All the fantastic moves, and gigantic egos to go along with them?

And then when I heard people like Marcus, Richard Farnswirth, JA, Chip Friendly, James Irish and the like were also competing over in EPW, I started watching your federation - excuse me... your FORMER federation every chance I got.

I'm sorry... I never followed you in those other federations you mentioned, but I've watched a darned awful lot of you on TV, so while I don't know *you* personally... I guess I know the TYPE. I've watched you Humility Bomb(~!) your own employees when they failed to promote their matches to your satisfaction. I've seen the way you treated people like Marcus Westcott. I saw what you tried to do to A1E.

So while I don't know YOU, I know *enough* about you, Mr. Ryan.

And forgive me for saying... but sir... you're quite the @SS. But you're quite the LEGENDARY @SS, if I may. I respect the HELL out of what you've done in the ring, but out of it, may I say you're a giant JACKHOLE.

So I was listening to you talk in your last segment, and then *I* realized something, Mr. Ryan.

Wow, were you ever OFF.

I wasn't even talking about A1E, but man, you took that ball, and you RAN with that sucker all the way from your own endzone for a big touchdown on that one, didn't you?

But you missed the flag on the play.

Don't Humility Bomb the ref though. He's just doing his job.

I hit a gigantic NERVE on that one, didn't I? You're pissed off, aren't you?

I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me too much.

I wasn't saying anything that Marcus Westcott, or Irishred, or ANYONE told me to say, sir. I just watched what happened with my own eyes. In fact, you're going to... dammit, I need to catch myself again... your FORMER company will be celebrating the anniversary of the event I speak of very shortly, I think? Wrestleverse II? Does that ring a bell?

The night that you met Irishred in a street fight for control of EPW?

I'm sure you remember NOW.

Do you wish to take back any of that RANT you went on before you even realized what it was I talking about? Nah, you're too big of a man to admit you made a mistake.

I mean, I'm sure I'm not the only one on the planet who saw you and Irishred battling it out at ringside, when all of a sudden Westcott came out of nowhere and spiked you on your head, and give Irishred the pinfall to take away control of your company?

Surely, sir... that something like that was planned out ahead of time, and they got the better of you that night. I would even venture to say... they outsmarted you?

But... I guess that was in the past, wasn't it? That really doesn't have a whole lot to do with you and me right now, other than to prove the hell out of my point.

That you're not unbeatable. You're NOT invincible. You've been beaten before. Ya just gotta find the right crack in the armor. And I think I'm getting pretty close. I mean, you've already made ONE gigantic mistake. What happens when you do that in the ring?

(Wreck smiles, and turns to look at Ducky.)

Ducky, how's the patient coming?

(Cut to Ducky, and back to Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Awesome, my friend. That looks like a fantastic job! Grab your needle and let's go get some lunch!

(We start to fade out, but we hear Wreck's voice one more time.)

Big Wreck: Ducky... where's your needle?

 

[DBrunkGXW]

FADE IN....

A grainy black and white newsreel appears on the screen. A deep patriotic American voice discusses the images on the screen...

"The Ludendorff Bridge at Remagen was captured by soldiers of the U.S. 9th Armored Division on March 7, 1945. Although historians refer to the capture as 'The Miracle at Remagen' and General Eisenhower stated that 'the bridge was worth its weight in gold', few units were able to operate to the East of the Rhine ahead of the main crossings in the South and in the North. Ultimately, only a limited amount of soldiers were able to cross the bridge before it collapsed on March 17th, ten days after its capture, killing twenty-eight soldiers. Because pontoons bridges and other crossing points had supplanted the bridge, the loss of the bridge was neither tactically or strategically significant."

The reel cuts off to a white light on the screen, then fades to Dan Ryan leaning back in a high backed leather chair, absent-mindedly twirling a pencil in one hand.

Ryan: "History question, Mr. Wreck - since you, after watching everything ON TV are an expert on all such viewed events - these things you uh...watched me do......when you view them, when you view my career in their entirety what is the first thing you think of?"

"Scratch that for a second. We'll come back to it."

"The Second World War. The Great War as they called it. Anything you or I know about it, we read of in a history book, or we watched in a newsreel. We weren't alive to be a part of it. We weren't in the trenches. We didn't fight the battles. Wait..I suppose that parallels your relationship to my career. Hmm..."

"Now, when you think of World War II what do you think of? The Battle of the Bulge maybe? Perhaps the Invasion of Normandy? Hiroshima and Nagasaki? The Nuremburg trials?"

"The capture of the Bridge at Remagen?"

"The what?"

"Now - let's come back to the present. Let's revisit my first question. When you look at the entirety of my career, what is it you think of first?"

"Apparently, what you think of is an insignificant win on one of my shows that ultimately led to the utter destruction of both men involved. The two men who uh....outsmarted me...what was the result of that glorious victory for them both, Wreck?? You watched it right? What came next?"

"Well, what came next was this: In their glorious planning sessions for his brilliant strategy of theirs, they made a few truly epic mistakes. For one, they set the bar too low didn't they? What was on the line in that match, Wreck? Do you remember? Well, I was there so I do."

"Six months control of EPW was on the line. Do you know why that was all that was on the line?? Quite simply, because I'm smarter than them, I'm smarter than you and I'm smarter honestly than most people. I own a company, I have nothing to gain and this tool Irishred wanted me to put complete control of my company on the line."

"Sure."

"So I compromised. To make a little man feel a little bigger, I settled on six months."

"Lo and behold, Marcus Westcott gets his bi-monthly hard on for me and manages to slip Irishred the win. Congratu-friggin'lations. Irishred takes the company over for six months. But it was only six months, Wreck. Six months was agreed on and six months it remained."

"And what happened as I bided my time for that six months? What happened when six months expired?"

"That brings us to epic mistake number two. With the stakes mind numbingly low, even for those two apes....they failed...miserably failed, to end the war. They started it, and they didn't finish it. So what next?"

"I promptly took back the reins, and I immediately crippled the man. IMMEDIATELY."

"So time goes on, things quiet down a little bit. Marcus Westcott not so secretly is a major power in the boardroom with A1E. I'm still competing there defending the World Tag Team Titles and so on, when suddenly there's a rumbling in the board of directors. Things start to go South but there's someone willing to pony up a little dough and buy the company out of bankruptcy."

"Yeah...me."

"But you know what makes me smarter than you? You know what makes me smarter than Marcus Westcott, Irishred and every other two dimensional goody goody that wants to be a hero??"

"You didn't see me comin'."

"They should've, and had they seen the signs and actually known what lied ahead...they had PLENTY of time to stop it. But they didn't."

"Not until I had a majority share in my back pocket did they even know what was going on. Not until it was absolutely too late did they even know who their enemy was."

(with disgust) "And you're impress with....six months."

"My willingness to walk away and that willingness alone finished a war that began with the insignificant battle you brought up in the first place. So forgive me, Doctor Wreck and Doctor Ducky...forgive me for mistaking a minor nothing moment for a much bigger one."

"But that's the difference between people like me and people like you, people like Westcott and Irishred. I think big. You think small because you...are small. They...are small. They couldn't be me on their best days and they never have been. Am I a jackass???"

"HELL MOTHERF**KIN YES."

"If you think that bothers me for even a split second, you need to go back and watch more tape. I don't give a s**t about you, not about them or anyone else in this business except me. People like you...you push little battles along. People like me?? I finish them. They hit me with a flesh wound. I fired back with a headshot. Go find Bloodhunt and ask him about headshots. He'll tell you all about it."

"You can scour the record books, spend all day in the archives and do whatever you want to cherry pick the times I've lost matches, been one upped or been found as something other than absolutely perfect. And you will do it, because people like you don't have a leg to stand on in regards to their own accomplishments, their own track records or anything else that would remotely suggest that you have a chance in hell of winning this match. Furthermore, it's amazingly telling that your mode of attack is to insult me over how two other people outsmarted me once a few years ago."

"WELL DONE."

"I've been beaten before, but not by the likes of you. I'll lose again someday, but not to you."

"So keep on with your stupid little puppet show. Dress that ridiculous duck up like a doctor, a lawyer, a clown, a minister, a prostitute or a combination of all of the above for 'happy night'. I don't really care."

"I may be an ass, but I'm THE baddest mother-fu**in' ass on the planet, and I'm about to kick the s**t outta yours."

FADE OUT.....

 

[MarcusWestcott]

(Suburban Detroit... TEAM FFA~! and A1E Challenge Champion Big Wreck's home, as the Wreckster slouches on the sofa in his living room in baggy sweats and a gray Grand Rapids Griffins sweatshirt, while his best friend, toy rubber duck, and sidekick Ducky (~!) sits next to him atop the arm of the sofa.)

Big Wreck: Wow, Duckster... Ryan really PWNED our asses on that one, didn't he?

(Cut to Ducky for a moment, then back to Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Yeah, that was TOTAL ASS RAPEAGE! Dan Ryan SCOLDED US with a HISTORY LESSON!

(Cut to Ducky for a moment, then back to Wreck.)

Big Wreck: Whoa now... no need for that kinda language. Dan Ryan STILL IS a bad @ss. He's still a legend. He's still a fierce competitor in the ring. It's just too bad that when he recounts history, it's more like the revisionist WWE kind when they talk about the death of WCW.

(Cut to Ducky for a moment, then back to Wreck.)

Big Wreck: YES SIR, I DO in fact DARE to go there!

All this World War Two BS aside... all this talk of how Dan Ryan is such a bad @ss, about how when he gets cut, he comes back with a head shot, and when someone shoots him with a .22, he comes back with a .50 cal, and when someone launches a rocket on him, Ryan will come back with a friggin A-BOMB, and then when someone comes back with a nuke, the ALMIGHTY Dan Ryan will use his HEAT VISION to cut to the planet's core and blow it up from the INSIDE!

That is, in fact... pretty bad @ss.

Quite frankly, my dear, I don't give a D*MN.

You see, Dan... as much as you got back at Irishred for what he tried to do to you (woooo, six months, YAY!) and sent him to the hospital... hey, congratulations on that, by the way... you should have reminded me to bake you a cake, or a lasagna or something. They're really tasty.
That was pretty bad @ss of you.

Sure, you infiltrated the A1E board room like some ninja special agent and worked things from the inside. You bought A1E out from underneath the carzy guys in the penguin suits that care more about two cents on the share than whether guys like me have a job in the morning.
That is... ALSO... pretty bad @ss.

But when it all came down to it, Dan... you weren't so much of a bad @ss after all, were you? When you had bought A1E, and been outsmarted once again by Westcott - and James Irish, of all people, who found a loophole and FORCED you to put the company on the line... and you went all Chuck Norris bad @ss in the WarGames match and WON... you weren't so bad @ss when Big Dog tugged at the old ego-strings and asked you for another shot? You couldn't STOP SALIVATING at the idea of taking his and Westcott's careers in addition to A1E itself, so you granted him another shot.

NOT very bad @ss, Dan.

And when you two fought in the aftermath of the WarGames match and Big Dog put you through that plate glass office window - an act that would require the BAD @SS Dan Ryan to duly respond in GREATER kind and zip-line Big Dog through a gigantic office window on the top floor of the Sears Tower...

Big Dog got back to his feet, and thus requiring BAD @SS Dan Ryan to not only get to his feet but immediately jump from all fours into an Olympic-record-sized high jump, and THEN do a two and one half twist in mid air and LAND ON HIS FEET...

The BAD @SS Dan Ryan...

Simply ROLLED OVER and CHOSE to lose.

YOU DIDN'T HAVE THE BALLS, DAN.

The BAD @SS Dan Ryan chose not to get up, and in that split second, and after a year plus of planning, plotting, porking boardroom members, and plundering people into prone positions in the hospital, and managing to STEAL A1E right out from under everyone's noses...

Dan Ryan simply rolled over and played dead, and the entire world found out at that very moment that Dan Ryan is all talk and no action, and that he is not a bad @ss as he likes to claim.

On the contrary...

Dan Ryan is deep down, a gigantic SOFTIE.

And imagine that... I learned all that from watching TV.

Just keep going ahead and underestimating the Duckster and me, Ryan, that softie heart is gonna getcha, and you just might find out that AFTER WATCHING TV and seeing me go through flaming tables and excruciating hardcore matches...

That I just might be a bigger bad @ss than I seem.

Surely bigger than pillowy-soft Dan Ryan.

(Fade out.)

 

[DBrunkGXW]

FADE IN....

Dan Ryan, sitting on his backyard deck, back porch of his ranch outside Houston. A deee-licious ice cold lemonade is on the table next to him and his legs are propped up on a cushioned wicker ottoman in front of him.

Ryan: "So, let's break this down shall we Wreckster?"

"What we've established here is that at some point, a couple of guys did some stuff to piss me off. Then I did something back to them. Then, I struck a fatal blow on said fellows before falling victim to a soft spot for my best friend, who despite having no love lost for any of the aforementioned douche-nozzles, held the offended company in the same high regard as the nozzles."

"These are the facts we've agreed on."

"I won, then Big Dog pleaded for the life of the company and I acquiesced. It seems based on all of this, that I only lost because I chose to spend most of my time raising my daughter and being a decent husband rather than continue to hold bitterness against a couple of idiots who weren't even worth my time. Big Dog made me see that, and I've never tried to run from it."

"So....what I'm getting here is....you're....gonna try and get Big Dog to show up for our match and....beg me to let you win??"

"Since we've established that I'm quite good at putting an end to things, with my only weakness being a soft spot for friends and family - this will help you win this match because....."

"Um...."

"Um...because...."

"UHHHH..."

"I'm sorry, why will that help you win this match exactly?"

"Because despite actual proof that I have not only outsmarted the entire roster of a company - and I haven't even gotten into how I outsmarted Troy Windham and stole his thunder at Gold Rush - despite acknowledging and even helping to illustrate how I did all of this, this makes you somehow....a....badass or something?"

"I dunno, Wreck."

"I mean, I'm sure there's some proof somewhere that shows you wrecking entire companies, holding shows hostage, year long World Title reigns, legendary status that causes men to tremble at the idea of standing across the ring from you....."

"Right?"

"There is some proof, right?? It's not just 'hey, you felt sorry for your best friend once so HA!! I'm a bigger badass than you!!! SCORE!!'.....uh, right?"

"You know Wreck, in a way I feel a little sorry for you."

Ryan begins to gesture at various spots in the room...

"Because you threw some s**t against the wall....there, and OH!...up there and....um, over there and oh yeah...down there and up there and all over there...."

"But instead of sticking it just kinda slipped down the wall to the ground, bro. I mean you ARE trying. You're really really trying. And it's not that I underestimate you, Wreck. It's just that well....you're just not in my league yet."

"Will you ever be?? Hell, I dunno. I do know your mode of attack was to laugh at someone else beating me in a street fight once, and that you've been clinging hard to that ineffectual premise like the metal tangs of a pants zipper on the front of a fat chick ever since."

"But when it all comes down to it, Wreck. I have it all, and you...well you've got nothin'."

"So I'm gonna leave it with this. You've got your duck. So have a cheese sandwich and be happy, but don't get too overly excited about the prospects of winning this match."

"I may not be perfect, and I may have a soft spot somewhere deep inside...but you don't have access that spot, Wreck - and I don't have to be perfect to get the drop on a dope like you."

"Hardcore matches...." (Ryan laughs...)

"OH NOES!!! Too bad I never competed in anything like that, eh? Too bad I never say...threw people off the second floors of buildings or got blown up in a ring for NFW in Wargames....stuff like that, right??"

"Yeah, sorry dude. Even with the hardcore crap...you lose again."

"It's okay, Wreck. After all is said and done, and the world pats you on the back and says not to feel bad for losing to one of the greatest to ever tie up the laces...your career will, hopefully go on...and no matter what hit your self esteem takes always remember..."

"Ducky will always love you."

"See ya later, Ernie."

FADE OUT......