|| Bill woke up this morning feeling as he normally does: a little cocky, a little hungry and slightly aroused. Talk about morning glory. But as Bill stepped into the shower, he had no idea of what kind of week he’d get into. After somewhat of a turbulent start to his EWO career, he was hoping to concentrate on his fitness in preparation for Sunday’s big fight. ‘The Dealer’ Dylan Dunn vs. ‘The Idol’ Bill Dynamite, 2 out of 3 falls for the World Heavyweight Championship. Bill has been considerably out of shape since his return, but after employing a strict new personal trainer Bill has been able to jump back on the straight and narrow. Since Louise arrived, Bill has lost a lot of excess weight. Many jokes have been directed at Bill recently, knocking him for his extra pounds and enormous appetite. But now those jokes will fall on deaf ears as Bill gets himself back into the shape of his career. He came into EWO weighing around 290lbs. He’s now down to 270. “Only 20lbs?” You say? Muscle weighs more than fat. Bill has lost a shit load of fat and built himself back into a toned, muscular athlete. Bill’s new body has given him back the Ego he once had. The Ego that pissed millions off as they watched Bill on TV. The Ego that would infuriate the locker room as he took shots at everyone on the roster. The Ego that was considered one of the best talents around. The Ego has landed once more, and the mirrors that cover the walls of Bill’s house just goes to prove that point. ||
||Bill opens the large glass sliding door of the shower to find the hot brunette he picked up last night waiting for him inside. Bill can do nothing but grin as she puts he hands through her hair and smiles. She has the body of a goddess; with her dark hair past her shoulders and a face that would make your heart skip a beat. Bill thinks about giving her some privacy for just a second, but can’t resist her many charms. He begins to take a step into the large shower that’s as big as most people’s bathroom. The soapsuds fall gently past her breasts, down her body and drift onto her inner thigh. Bill’s lucky his heart problems are no more, as this sight would almost certainly make a man’s heart stop for a second. He reaches out and she takes his hand and places it on her tanned behind. She pouts like a feline on the prowl and Bill’s eyes follow the path of the soap as it drips slowly from between her legs. His other hand ventures up to her perfectly rounded, natural breasts as they move closer to a tight embrace. She kisses him provocatively on the neck and lets out a small groan of pleasure as Bill’s hand wanders south. Bill grabs her thigh to pick her up and place her on a small ledge used for shower-gel and shampoo. She opens her legs and places her finger inside her; Bill puffs his cheeks in excitement and says a short “thank you” in his head. But just as Bill is about to move in, an almighty smash is heard from downstairs. ||
||Bill turns the water off and they stand in silence to listen out for any more noises. But they hear nothing. Bill whips a towel from the rail and wraps it around his waist. He gently opens the shower door and slowly steps out onto the marble floor. He walks out into his bedroom and grabs the ball-bat from behind his bed. With bat in hand and towel round waist, he moves down the spiral stairs checking for movement on every step. When he reaches the bottom he takes a quick look into the kitchen, but sees nothing. He turns the corner and drops the bat in shock as he sees his shattered French doors. On the floor amidst the shattered glass is a wooden chair with leather trim from the patio. Attached is a note. Bill unfolds the note and cuts himself on a shard of glass. A drop of blood drips onto the piece of paper as he reads it to himself. ||
||Bill takes a deep breath as he folds the paper over and places it on the table. He slips his feet into a pair of pink fluffy slippers near the sofa and walks outside into the garden to check out whether anybody is still lurking around, but only a bird perches on the fence. Bill strolls calmly back into his living room; the girl is standing at the bottom of the stairs in awe, tying the silk robe around her waist. She places her hand on her heart, then over her mouth as she gasps when she sees the shattered French doors. Bill reaches over and puts an arm over her shoulder. ||
Bill: Emma, I’ll call you a cab. Get you home.
Emma: What happened?
||Even for an Englishman, her soft English accent is enough for any man to forget about the destroyed patio doors. But Bill, being his responsible self, picks up the phone and dials for a cab. ||
Bill: Just kids. Don’t worry about it. I want you to go home and relax while I get this cleaned up.
Emma: Are you Ok? You’re bleeding.
Bill: Just a bit of glass. I think I’ll manage. Hello, Apollo Cabs? I’d like to get a car here as soon as possible. 10 minutes? Great. It’s Bill, stick it on the tab.
Emma: You going to call the Police?
Bill: Yeah, I’ll take care of it. You just relax and get home.
||15 minutes later, Emma waves goodbye as her cab pulls away down the drive. Bill steps inside and picks up the phone. He dials for the Police and unfolds the piece of paper once again. ||
Bill: Hello, Police? I got a real problem here; someone has just thrown a chair through my patio window. I don’t think its just vandals. I think it’s serious. They left a note.
||Bill throws the paper down on the worktop and the breeze blows the fold open.||
The note reads…
Bill: Hello? Hello? Is anybody there?
||He hears nothing on the other end, just enough atmosphere for him to know there is someone on the other end. ||
Bill: Do you know who I am? I’m Bill Dynamite! If you came here like a man and stepped up to my face, I’d ruin you. But you’re not a man are you? You’re a bitch putting my patio furniture through my French doors! Anybody can do that. But not anybody can step up to my face, huh you little bitch…? Huh?
||Bill hears the click, and then the tone. He slams the phone down and pours the boiled water into the cup. The phone rings again and Bill picks it up before it has a chance to ring twice. ||
Bill: Listen up you little slag!
Czecher: Bill…? What the hell have I done now? It’s the crap I left in your toilet isn’t it? I tried to get rid of it, but the bastard just won’t flush. Kinda like you and Eric Poyntz.
Bill: Czecher… Jesus. Thank god it’s you.
Czecher: What? What the hell has happened?
Bill: Some arsehole threw a chair through my patio window!
Czecher: What?! That’s insane! Why would anybody do that?
Bill: I don’t know Czechs. But it doesn’t get any better. Tied to the chair was a note.
Czecher: What kind of note?
Bill: A fuckin’ death threat!
Czecher: Oh my god, Bill. That’s just going too far. I know you got your enemies but shit… That’s too much. Got any idea who it is?
Bill: Nope. The fucker just called me. At least I think it was them. Somebody just sat on the other end and didn’t say anything.
Czecher: Asshole! This is fucked up shit, Bill.
Bill: Yeah tell me about it. This shit is just what I need a week from facing Dylan Dunn. I’ve got a lot of my fitness back, I’m about 90%. I thought I was fully prepared for Bound for Glory after taking the week off. But this is shit I just didn’t need. I’ve called the Cops, so if this is Dunn, playing a prank, trying to throw me off key before the title match, he’s gonna wish he didn’t. not only will his ass be investigated, but his ass will be interrogated by my big fat boot in the ring on Sunday.
Czecher: Dunn’s stupid. But death threats? That’s a new low. Even for a punk like Dunn. But I wouldn’t rule it out.
Bill: I’m not ruling anything out right now. It could be a rival fan, someone from my past, a stupid prankster, it could be Dunn, it could anybody Czechs… But whoever it is, they’re gonna pay. Trust me.