Storm's been on a roll lately, coming up 4 and 1, with his only loss to the team of Booker T and Matt Hardy (even though he claims he didn't lose since he won the fight afterwards). This coming week, he'll be in his first ever pay-per-view match on Boiling Point in the guise of a tag team match - himself and Robert Roode versus Santino Marella and a partner of his choosing. Who will be the partner? How will Storm fare in this? Tune in to WIW's Boiling Point to find out; only on pay-per-view.

SCENE 01: PAY-PER-VIEW DEBUT / SNAKES LIKE BEER?

As this week's scene opens, we're inside James Storm's truck with him driving and Miss Jackie in the passenger's seat - with the cameraman in the backseat filming everything. James is in a casual outfit of a white button up shirt, jeans, boots, and his cowboy hat, while Miss Jackie is dressed in a dark blue pullover shirt, jeans, boots, and her own cowboy hat. This time, Miss Jackie has the map in her hands - as opposed to James when he was looking for Jamaica - and is directing them to where they need to be for tomorrow night's show. Yeah, James doesn't like driving while drinking - it distracts him from drinking - but do we really want him to read the map? Didn't think so. Glancing over at Miss Jackie before he takes a sip of his beer, he leans over to look at the map before she shoves him back over to his side of the truck, silently telling him to drive and let her worry about the directions. James holds up his beer and looks into it from the side to check how much is left then frowns.

"Hey... how long we got before we get there, Jackie? I'm gettin tired of drivin."

"About three more hours, James. Why?"

"Cause my ass is goin flat, I'm runnin outta beer, and I gotta piss. Does that answer your question?"

"Well according to the map, there's a rest stop coming up on your left. We can stop there."

"A'ight, what about the beer?"

"We have more in the cooler in the back. I'll get it when we stop."

"That's what I thought, cause I know I packed just enough to where I could have one every hour and still have about three left over when we get there." He adds in,"I can count beers if I can't do nothin else. I know how much beer I got, anyway."

When they get up to the rest area, he pulls over and gets out, but not before draining the last of the beer he was holding a minute ago. Racing for the bathroom, he goes in and shuts the door behind him as she gets out and reaches over the side of the truck's bed to get the beer from the cooler before putting it on the seat in the cab. Sighing, she reaches up and takes off her hat, fanning her face with it as she leans against the truck and waits on James. All of a sudden, there's a scream coming from the direction of the bathroom, and the door gets flung open just before James comes running out like he has the hounds of hell on his heels. He hasn't bothered to buckle his belt back up, so it's bouncing against the front of his jeans as he runs, stopping just short of where Jackie is looking at him with a shocked expression on her face. Panting heavily, James bends over and puts his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath as Jackie starts in on him.

"James! What the hell was that? I was sittin here waitin on you, and all I hear is you screamin before you come outta that bathroom like a bat outta hell. What the hell's your problem?"

"Well I was in there pissin, right? Well just as I was gettin done, I hear this hissin sound. I turn around and look, and there's this big ass snake in the damn corner of the room, just lookin at me. I was like fuck this, so I zipped up and ran. Hell, I ain't gettin bit by some snake when I could just throw Santino Marella in there and let the snake have fun. Besides.. that snake was tryin to tell me somethin."

"I'm scared to ask, but I will anyway... what was the snake tryin to tell you, James?"

"He wanted some of my beer! Ain't no way in hell he's gettin some of my beer, Jackie. He can go get run over by a damn truck before that happens." He mutters as he walks to the truck and wrenches the door open, "That damn snake can go get fucked, cause he ain't gettin none of my beer. My beer is my beer, not his beer. He can go buy him some if he wants some. I don't run no charity case."

"Ugh.. get in, James. We don't have time for this."

"You get my beer?"

"It's on the front seat."

"A'ight.."

He gets in and slams the door shut before taking a beer out of the little cardboard carrying case and kissing the brown tinted glass. Leaning forward, he sticks the cap underneath the lip of the bottle opener he had installed and opens the beer. As he hears his favorite sound - the 'cchhhh' of a beer opening, of course - he laughs and smiles happily before taking a few sips from it. Miss Jackie gets back into the passenger's seat and closes her door as he puts the beer in his lap and turns the key, bringing the truck back to life. As he shifts into drive, he gets his beer back in his hand and starts down the road again.

"You said I had a match at this pay-per-view tomorrow night. Who's it against?"

"It's a tag team match. You and Roode versus Santino Marella."

"And?"

"I don't know. Nobody's stepped up yet."

"With Santino for a partner, I wouldn't wanna step up, either. It's like taking that midget, Hornswaggle for a partner. Useless... doesn't drink beer... eats too much pasta... can't understand a damn word he says half the time... runs around with has-been Italians, expecting them to boost his standings... it's pathetic, Jackie. How the hell does he expect to get any respect in the business acting like a total idiot? He needs to do like them other people and learn some English before doing anything else... then become a citizen... then, the most important thing... learn how to drink beer. He ain't gettin my beer, but he can still learn how to drink it."

"Nobody wants any of your beer, James. Not the snake, not Santino, not Matt Hardy, not Bobby Lashley, nobody. The beer's all yours."

"Damn right nobody's gettin my beer. I'll beat the livin fuck out of em if they try. I spent my hard earned money on my beer, and I'll be damned if anybody's gettin any of it but me. Maybe you... but nobody else. If they even manage to get some, I'll know. I count every single one of my beers when I get one, and I know exactly how many I got. If even one is missin, someone's getting thier ass whipped."

"I don't doubt that for a minute, James."

"You know what else you can't doubt?"

"What?"

"That me and Roode's gonna win tomorrow night. Santino and whatever reject he chooses is gonna be just another win in my column... they can count thierselves as number five in my four and one record come Monday. For once, I can say this and not mean it... SORRY... ABOUT YOUR DAMN LUCK!"

He laughs and drinks some more of his beer as the scene just fades out. Can they indeed win against Santino and whomever he decides to pick for a partner? We'll just have to see... tomorrow night on Boiling Point.