Today’s date is Thursday, March 27, 2008.
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Opening file: FO:38518CS:LF:260308.
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File FO:38518CS:LF:260308/OO:00000LS:LF:260308.
Location: Cambridge, New Zealand.
Dated: Wednesday, March 26, 2008.
‘Full circle, he thought while the final lethargy crept into his limbs. Full circle. A new terror born in death, a new superstition entering the unassailable fortress of forever.’
Richard Matheson wrote this in his classic, I AM LEGEND, now a motion picture staring Will Smith. Maybe it’s just the way that my particular brain is wired, maybe it’s just an imbalance in the firing of electrons, but whenever I see a quote like that, in a situation like this, I feel myself being frozen, dead.
I’m so fucking tired of all of this. I’m tired of fighting, every step of the way. Every day, a new battle. Every week, a new war. In a matter of days, my whole damn life had been flipped upside down. I find myself falling into an abyss that I slaved for years to climb out of. I was falling and falling, and couldn’t see an end, until all of a sudden I stuck my arm out and managed to snag a hold onto a rocky outcrop. I inched my bloody, broken, battered body up sheer vertical cliffs. Where there were no holes for my hands to grasp, I hammered away until there was. I was relentless and unforgiving on that bare rock. I had it in my mind that only of us would win, me or it. And using the same stubborn mentality that can be seen through every decision that I’ve ever made in life, I refused to let it get the better of me. I climbed my Everest twice over. I traveled to the Antarctic in the middle of winter where there was no guiding light. I did it all, so that I could stand atop the cliff once more and know that I was worthy of walking amongst the living, because I had escaped the fiery clutches of hell that would reach up to me in that chasm. I was better than those who dwell underneath. And while I knew, and have always known, that sooner or later I would join them down there, and they would have their way with me – at that moment I was able to defy them. I was able to tell them ‘not yet’.
Not yet.
But now… now it feels that I’ve taken my first step away from the cliff-edge, only to be tossed back in like a coin in a wishing well.
Have I not proven myself yet? Have I not done what has been asked of me?
I make no claim to any religious affiliation. Even now, as I sit in a supposed ‘House of God’, I do not pray to him. I merely find that Biblical metaphors tend to be extremely suitable when it comes to my own philosophy on who deserves to live and who deserves to die – and according to whom. I sure as hell never thought that my mother deserved to die. Nobody fucking asked me! Where the fuck was my say in all this?
Am I doomed to the same fate?
I don’t wish to be immortal, but if I am to join her then hurry the fuck up and do it already?
You hear me? Do it!
I’ve fortified myself with a stone wall that seems impenetrable to the mortal man, but a fortress does little to protect one from what is already inside it. It is my own self-doubts now that begin to terrorize my thoughts. I feel like I am a burden, a plague to all those around me. It’s as if an entity is watching me from the horizon at all times – Death itself. It stalks me, everywhere I go, toying with me. But this is not your regular game of cat and mouse. This is ant and giant, where at any time, the giant’s foot can come crashing down on me, but instead it chooses to dance around me, squashing everyone and everything that I know. I don’t know how long I can keep this up. I’m just so tired.
The heat sears my skin. I don’t know if these are the fiery hands reaching up to pull me down once more, or if the giant has decided to pull out a magnifying glass and fuck with me that way – all I know is that I need an out, and I need it fast. I’m in a lot of trouble here.
I remember the flight back here. I was so close to caving in. I was so god damn close to letting go of what seems to be the only thing that I’m still holding onto. The temptation continues to grow, and I’m running out of steam to fight back. I must though. I must. If not for myself, then for her, for my mother. I have sworn from day one to make her proud, and that stubborn attitude that I embrace, refuses to let her down. But…
Full circle.
Everything comes full circle. This could be punishment for the lives that I’ve ruined… that I’ve taken. If only people new the atrocities that I’ve committed in the name of justice, peace, and at one point… vengeance. I’d like to say that I started down this path only because of the shit that I’ve been through, but that dives into a whole ‘what if’ line of thought, that could go on forever. The only thing that I know for sure, is that sooner or later, the circle is going to catch up to me. Am I the next victim, or do more people have to suffer before I am finally ticked off the great bounty hunter Death’s list? When I was younger – and shit, I’m only 30 right now – I would have begged and pleaded to not know when I would finally be taken, now though, I almost want to be claimed. I’ve done the unthinkable, while some claim to be ‘Unkillable’, I have been snatched up already (thank you T Money), only to break free from Death’s chains. Maybe this is Death’s vengeance – hunting down all those who matter to me. I’ve seen the Final Destination movies, so this could be like that. Death wants me as a trophy, to prove infallibility.
But here’s the kicker: I don’t want to be Death’s trophy – to prove my own infallibility.
Full circle. Sooner or later, Death’s own arrogant ‘infallibility’ must come around and bite it on the ass. It should be well documented by now, that nobody and no thing, in all physically possible and logically possible realms of reality, is more confident or more arrogant, than Leroy Bruce Stone.
…
I hear the sound of a man over seven feet tall sobbing away. I suddenly realize that I’ve completely zoned out at my own mother’s funeral. My brother, Stanley, was reading his eulogy, and I missed the entire thing. He walks down the steps, and sits down on my right in the front row. His eyes are wet, I feel completely out of place because mine aren’t. I may be the only person in this entire church who isn’t crying. What kind of person does that make me?
The giant man that I mentioned crying, is sitting on my left. His name is Hellhole. I know his first name, as does my brother, but whoever you are reading these files after I’m incapacitated, you don’t need to know it. He made an appearance in the XWF once, in the Lord of the Ring 2003 match, and scored himself Quote of the Moment on the official XWF website before I (an active roster member) did. He always holds that over my head, even though I haven’t seen him in quite some time. The only background information that you need to know, is that he was the closest thing I had to a father growing up. My mother spent a lot of time trying to find herself after my real father abandoned us. She didn’t bring home a lot of guys, but of all the ones that she did deem suitable for me and Stan to meet, Hellhole is the only one we really got along with. Despite his vulgar mouth and knack for dropping jokes at an inappropriate time (two characteristics I seemed to pick up from him), he was a legitimately genuine person. He’s the entire reason I got into professional wrestling, as opposed to pursuing a career in Rugby.
On the other side of my brother, there is a vacant seat. That’s where my biological father, Bruce, was reserved a seat. I know it was a tall order for him to show his face when so many of my mother’s family and friends were present, but I thought I had made enough progress repairing bridges with him that he’d have the fucking testicles to be here to support me and Stan. I guess not though.
“Is there anybody else who wishes to say a few words?” The priest, standing at the altar where Stan was previously, now asks. While few (if any) eyes actually fall upon me, I feel as though I can sense a collective consciousness questioning why I’m not leaping to my feet. Initially, I had no intentions of delivering my own eulogy. Something though… something separate from this feeling of negative judgment that everybody in the church, whether consciously or not, casts upon me, something spurs within me. With each hand I pat the shoulders of Stan and Hellhole. Taking a deep breath, I then rise to my feet, and walk the few paces towards the steps leading up to the altar. The moment that I reach it, and turn to face the church’s populace, I’m forced to do a double-take. With all things considered, it would be considered most strange for anyone in this building to be smiling, but I can’t seem to fight the slightest grin appearing at the corners of my mouth.
He is here. Hiding in the back of the room, just peering out from the lobby, I notice the familiar figure of my father, Bruce Matua Stone. I guess there is hope for him yet.
I look down at the altar now, and try to gather my thoughts. When I look up again, I don’t see the tears in anybody’s eyes. They show me no emotion whatsoever. All that I’m shown, is their undivided attention. What is it about me, that makes people listen so?
I begin.
“If I’m to be perfectly honest with you all, I’ve been completely zoned out most of this ceremony.” I catch a few disapproving looks, but continue nonetheless. “It’s not because I don’t care though. I think… I think it’s because I care too much. I don’t believe that I’m going to live up to what I can guess my brother Stan, or any of the other speakers have said, nor do I believe that I can do justice to the type of person that my mother Cherie was. But, there is one thing that I can do. The problem is, in order for me to accomplish it, I need to put myself at your mercy, and that’s extremely difficult for me to do. But for mum… I’d do anything.
You see, I need your help. My mother was a proud woman, and she believed in strength of character. It wasn’t individual character she believed in though, oh no. It was the character of humanity as a whole. I would often taunt her about the wars and whatnot that seem to be constant throughout the entirety of human life, but she would always respond with the same answer:
Even the wicked believe that they are doing good.
The point is, my mother actually got emotionally when she saw one of the Spiderman movies, and it was said that “I believe there’s a hero in us all” or something along those lines. She did believe that, beyond a shadow of a doubt. What I’m standing up here to request from you, is that you believe in her belief. It sounds farfetched, but if you act upon that belief, and express it truly through your own actions, you can make an enormous difference. That one belief, is the reason I am where I am today. Without her influence, I’d probably be on the streets or in jail.
I know this isn’t the most tear-jerking speech that you’ve ever heard, but I’m not here for that. I’m here for one thing, and if you – forgive me for using this language here – give a fuck about what this loss of life means, nay, any loss of life, let my mother stand as a reminder to what you should be trying to accomplish at all times.
Make Cherie Stone mean something to you. Because she will always… always mean something to me.
I love you mum.”
I stop now, and hang my head once more. I don’t rally emotion in people, I don’t make them cry, I make them think. As I raise my head again, I see a sea of people lost in thought. It may not have been the best speech, but for an improvisation I’d say it wasn’t too bad. As I said though, nothing would ever have done her justice.
I go to move now, stepping away from the altar. I cannot even begin to describe what happens next though. Somehow, almost mystical in method, I catch the perfect reflection of one of the few wet eyes (aside from my own) that have been produced from my speech. I’m drawn to this reflection, and the face almost causes me to fall to my knees right there in front of everybody. A lone cheek rolls down her gorgeous, soft cheek. Her beautiful brown eyes embrace my own, and I find myself falling in love all over again.
Here at my mother’s funeral, I’m staring across the room into the eyes of my ex-fiancée, the woman I walked through hell to be with, Mandy Freeman.
Close file? Yes.
File closed.
File FO:38518CS:BI.
Overview:
Name: Cherie Anne Stone
Base of Operations: Cambridge, New Zealand
Occupation: Retired, Part-time Piano Teacher
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 140lbs
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Maiden name is O’Leary. Born in Palmerston North, New Zealand to an Irish father, Bryan, and a New Zealand mother, Veronica. The youngest of three daughters. She would go on to marry a Maori man named Bruce, and conceive two sons, Stanley and Leroy. After moving to Cambridge in 1980 (from Gisborne where Bruce lived), she quickly became known in the town for being the single white mother of two Maori children. Soon, what started as disgust, turned into immense respect, as both Stan and Lee fought against the stereotype for male children of their ethnicity, and became successful in their own individual rights. Both children have accredited their success to the values that their mother placed upon them as children.
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Description: Non-employee. Will always be kept at a distance to privileged information, to avoid any unnecessary threat.
Security threat level: 5
Description: No threat to come from her personally, but she is the most threatening manner in which an individual or corporation could threaten her son. Personal protection must always be provided, whether she is aware of it or not.
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Opening file: WX: 61139HB:PR:270308
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File WX: 61139HB:PR:270308
Location: Cambridge, New Zealand
Dated: Thursday, March 27, 2008
“Bitches and gentlefucks, I’d like to ask your permission if I may. I’d like for you to put yourself in my position, and ask yourself, really honestly ask yourself, what would you do?
Your name is Lee Stone, and you’re considered the biggest threat to every single ego on the XWF roster. Everybody wants to claim your hide and tie it to their belt. From Cyren to Daniel Malcolm, Brady Anderson to Bigg Rigg, Legion all the way down to a guy like QC Thug. Everybody, bar none wants to gain the upper hand over Lee Stone. You are hunted, you are hounded, and your every step is stalked. You are what the masses want, but instead of embracing you as the epitome of their business, instead of merely acknowledging your greatness and doing their best to surpass you, they want to replace you.
Not surpass, replace. They want you removed, so that they don’t have to reach for the stars anymore. They want to be considered the best, without actually achieving the same status as the man who was the best before them. This is the mentality of one, Andrew McGrier, commonly known as Cyren. This mentality is also shared by a man by the name of Daniel Malcolm, who I shall deal with later.
If I am to be completely upfront with you, I am actually quite impressed with anybody who can differ from this pack mentality. And thus, I am brought to the current XWF World Champion, Brady Anderson. If I were wearing a hat, I would tip it in your favor. You stand out from the pack, which while it may not be the accomplishment that it once was, considering that the pack is extremely underwhelming, it is still something that at the very least deserves recognition if not reward as well.
But what reward would be suitable? The ‘scalp’ of Lee Stone? The retention of the World Title? No, I’m afraid that for you Brady, those are events that are not to come to fruition. Instead I feel that this recognition is reward enough. I, Leroy Bruce Stone, hereby proclaim that as I sat in the announcer’s booth, firing off sniper shots at the jockeys in the ‘two-horse race’ between Brady Anderson and Famine of the Vile, Brady was in fact in the lead. Famine was also the first to be shot. Sadly, that wasn’t enough for Brady to escape his inevitable fate. Brady got shot down… or at least, will be, once I’m through with him.
Unfortunately Brady, while you have taken a few novel approaches towards me, you have also fallen into a few of the same pitfalls that so many others before you have.
‘Lee Stone has an enormous, gigantic, ginormous, dinosauric, really freaking big ego!’
Come on dude, how many times do you think I’ve heard that one? Take a rough guess, double it, and then add the number 153. That is approximately how many times. You see, the problem with saying that statement, which is one hundred percent true, is that you seem not to understand exactly who Lee Stone is, and the thing about Lee Stone is that he’s such a finely oiled machine that if you don’t know how every part works in the grander scheme of things, then you’re not going to make any progress. I’ll give you one huge hint though Brady, you said that my talent can cash the cheques that my mouth writes, but you’ve got that whole thing backwards. My talent is the one writing the cheques man, and my mouth actually struggles to keep up with the payments! That’s how good I really am.
To help your understanding Brady, I’ll give you a little history lesson. In October 2003, when Lee Stone first debuted in the XWF and was named Newcomer of the Month, he dwelt in the same pool of mediocrity that he criticizes everyone else for swimming in. He wasn’t at the ‘peak’. He was essentially, a nobody. He came from dominating his past two companies, to being at the bottom of the ladder all over again. And the difference between Lee Stone and the people he now frowns upon, is that he didn’t like being there. Lee Stone wasn’t comfortable with being at the bottom, so he slaved away until it wasn’t the case. I’ll cast aside the third person talk now, to bring a bit more passion into this. It took me one whole year to even win a single title here. All that time, working my fucking ass off, that is why I can stand where I am today and be the man that everybody associates me with, because I have been through it all and know every aspect – every dark corner, of this company.
Who is the greedy one Brady? Me for not wanting to give up what I’ve dedicated, and even sacrificed, my life for, or you for wanting to use me as a stepping stone to replace your envy of me, with the feeling of being me? If I’m going to be straight with you, I’d say we’re both being greedy. And that’s why I’m not going to take the hypocritical route and criticize you for it. You need to be greedy to get anywhere in this business. You can make friends, and I know we both have done that, but when it comes down to you or them, with them standing across the ring from you stopping you from reaching the goal that you’ve set for yourself, you’ve got to be ready to straight through them. It’s a cutthroat world – survival of the fittest. It may be depressing to think of it as that way, but as far as I’m concerned, I’d rather be right than happy – and that’s no way near as depressing in it’s own right as it sounds, because if when I’m right, other people tend to be happy. That’s the way my world works. I guess, in a way, that leads me on to a question that you posed to me:
Do I think that I am better than my fellow Tag Team Champion, Christian Connolly?
Heh, I think you overestimated the difficulty of that question for me to answer. I don’t need to be diplomatic at all with my response, because considering the kind of person that I am, nobody would believe me if I was.
Yes, I believe that I am better than Christian Connolly.
It has nothing to do with statistics, and instead, everything to do with who I am. I believe that I am better than absolutely every wrestler in the world. So far, I’ve yet to meet somebody who can, beyond a shadow of a doubt, dispel that belief.
The thing is, there’s a reason that Christian and I have such a healthy respect for each other, and that reason is that we both believe that we are better than each other. I mean, do you really think that Christian Connolly, a former Universal Champion in his own right, and one of the greatest World Champions our company has ever seen, would submit to the idea that his friend and partner is and will always be better than him? If you do, mate, you’re dreaming. And when Christian beats whoever the Universal Champion is after this Sunday, be it John Gambino, Daniel Malcolm or Zach Rizza, I’m sure he’d me more than glad to show that in fifth confrontation between us, he can finally get the better of me. I’d be more than glad to take him up on that offer too, because if I had to name the second-greatest wrestler, his name is Christian Connolly. And I do love a challenge.
Now, I mentioned Daniel Malcolm so I figure I can move onto him now.
Daniel… you make… absolutely… no… fucking… sense.
Oh no? Did my potty mouth offend you?
Fuck you, you fucking fuck!
Oops, there I go, swearing again. Mama, I’ve been bad! Somebody should wash my mouth out with a bar of soap.
Dan, for a father, you sure don’t know what appeals to youngsters. You think people like the clean cut goody-good? Hmm… I guess that’s why shows like House and Boston Legal are so successful, because they are so politically correct. Shit man, people don’t want a hero, they want an anti-hero, and while I don’t claim to be one, I’m sure as hell a lot closer to it than you, fucktard.
And dude, I have no idea what any of that talk about your family has to do with… well, with anything! But if you’re going to go down that route, then fine, I’ll go there. You think Patience wants a man who isn’t willing to go to any length to protect her dignity? You think little Caroline will be proud when kids at her school mock her for having a father who is such a whiny fucking bitch? The fact that you have a family Daniel, means that you should be willing to go that extra distance. If you’re not willing to do whatever to get to Rigg, if you’re not willing to shut your mouth and work your fucking ass off to get what you want, rather than standing on the rooftops screaming the same “Jon Boy screwed me!” line, then I doubt your family will be very proud of you.
And how proud are they Dan, how proud are Patience and Caroline, that you’re stooping as low as poking at my dwindling family numbers? Are they proud of you there? Are they standing behind you, rooting for you? I’ve had every woman I ever gave a crap about, taken away, and you – of all people you – are willing to taunt me for that? I lost both my little boys, and you – of all people you – are willing to stoop to that level? Man, and I thought you were bad when Prince Akeem was pulling your strings. Turns out you have changed, you’ve become worse. And that’s exactly why I say the things I do about you. I bring up point after point that you largely ignore, and don’t even try to refute, effectively leaving what I say to be truth because there is no counter-point to go against it, while you just try to change the subject.
For a guy who supposedly doesn’t care what I think anymore, you sure still do love to try to prove a point to me. The fact of the matter is, even if you really don’t care anymore – you did care to begin with. And because I haven’t approved of you the way you craved from me when you challenged for my Universal Title, something tells me that no matter what you say, a little part of you still begs for the attention of Leroy Bruce Stone. I on the other hand, never cared what you thought of me. So bring on everything you’ve got kid, I’m waiting.
If people bite out at me, then I’m going to bite back, that’s why I had to take a little detour there and start addressing Dan Boy, but now I can get back to my match this week, and the three names still waiting for Lee Stone to mention them: Famine of the Vile, Legion and Heavy D.
Before I officially returned to the XWF ring, I had been lurking in the shadows for quite some time. I had been watching, biding my time, trying to decide if there was anything worth my time anymore. Most of my friends have moved on, possibly to never return again. I found myself looking at what truly has become a new era in the XWF. The names of Lee Stone, Bigg Rigg, Christian Connolly, Daniel Malcolm, Cyren… we are but remnants of the past. We still dominate because we carry with us the prestige that this place once held. For some of us, it fuels a fire that we long thought extinguished, for others it merely adds to our cause. For some of our opponents, it becomes a force too overwhelming to deal with, but for a select few it gives them more reason to fight. The point is, when I first took a look at this place once again, I searched for the names who were ready to stand up and fight. I wanted to know who thought they could replace the greats of the past. The first name that came to mind was Heavy D.
Here was an impact graduate, coming out of nowhere and claiming the World Title, the same one that is on the line in this very match, as his own. My interest was immediately perked. I couldn’t help but cast my mind back to other Impact graduates of such esteem, legends such as Jem Williams and Trent Gein, both whom went on to capture the Universal Title. Needless to say, I wanted to see how far this kid could go. Sure, when I spoke to Steve Sayors on the day of my glorious return, I joked and dismissed Heavy D, but I feel as if I did the right thing that night. I wanted to see how D would react, when a shadow is cast over his fairytale story. The same night that he loses the World Title, he is seemingly pushed further down the ladder as two former Universal Champions return to claim their spot. I wanted to see D rise to this challenge. I would have been content if Heavy D had managed to cost Christian and I the match against him and Bigg Rigg, because he would have given me hope for the future.
But it was not to be.
I have been sorely disappointed with the progress, or lack thereof, of this man since my return. I fear that the sheer scope and realization of just what he has to do to accomplish what I can only believe are his ultimate goals here, namely the Universal Title and perhaps even ‘Legend’ status, have cause young Donald to jump ship from the category that I originally placed him in. He is not one who will rise to the challenge, he is one who will cower and run. It’s unsettling to think that I may be in part responsible for this, but I am willing to accept my role in the derailing of a career. I think it for the better. Were D to rise up fully, without the test of a man like Lee Stone or Christian Connolly standing in his way, then I do not believe he would last long at the top. We could have another Brad Pierce situation just waiting to happen. Thus, I am proud to have stopped D’s rise, and I will be proud to be another blemish on his record this Sunday. If I’m lucky, D is listening to this, and he will take this as a challenge to prove me wrong.
Because that’s exactly what it is.
Now when I look at Legion, I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. The competitor in me wants to issue the same challenge that I give to Heavy D. If Legion is able to prove that Brady Anderson and I were wrong to dismiss him, then I would take a sense of pride in that. But the man in me, just wants to laugh every time I see the guy. It’s nothing to do with the way he looks, after all, he appears at first glance to be the prototype of every wrestler. He even reminds me of Steve Jason from a few years back, their pictures could be interchangeable. But what in the blue hell is going on in that head? Legion, are you one person or are you two? Maybe there’s more of you in there! Three? Four? Five? There could be seven hundred and eighty three people inside Legion’s head! More than likely though, my first guess was right, and there is just one.
From what I can gather, Legion, you do not suffer from multiple personality disorder, nor are you schizophrenic. You are just, odd. Perhaps you speak in formalities. The French language has two words for words such as ‘you’, where ‘tu’ refers informally to one individual, and ‘vous’ is used for both formal speech to one individual, or to a group of people. If this is what you are trying to accomplish, then does that mean that you’re attempting to be formal with… yourself? Wow, I thought I had an ego. I guess someone has to speak formally to you though, because the rest of us sure as fuck won’t be.
Feel free to take up the same challenge I issued Heavy D, Legion, but I just don’t see it doing you much good.
And finally, we have Famine of the Vile… you know, Brady raises a good point in regards to you, a point that is not unlike one I made last time. I am going to repeat it here, because while Brady wishes to be given an answer to the story behind your name, I want to know the answer to this question: what the hell are you doing in this match?
If you can answer that question, and then come over, drop a promo and actually express that answer, then maybe you can answer this question as well while you’re at it – you know, kill two birds with one stone. If you are in this match for some sort of reason, then what the hell are you doing messing around with IWF? Aren’t those guys at war with Impact or something? Wow… they’re aiming high. Sure everyone has to start somewhere, but with every strike that Impact makes at you guys, their stand-out performers will just be pulled on up to Massacre, and that leaves you not fighting people, but fighting an idea. I suppose you are still left with The Ryan Brothers to fight, I heard that they pissed you guys off over there. That’s understandable, I hate those faggots too.
But Famine, I want you to show up, okay? That’s the biggest thing that I can ask of you. I’m not expecting you to push me to my limits, considering when you were lined up as the only contender for the vacant Universal Title, I kicked your ass twice – presumably you would have been at your best back then – so you’re not really going to get far this time. But just show up, okay? Save some face.
One thing that I noticed, in Brady Anderson’s promo, is that he listed off all the names that I listed off in response to the matches he had previously mentioned, but this time he left out one name. He chose not to replace where I mentioned him, with my name. He forgot Lee Stone on his list. And the reason for that, is because I’m not on his list. Nor am I on Heavy D, Legion or Famine of the Vile’s list. The only man I haven’t faced in this match before is Legion, and so he’s the only man that I haven’t beaten. And so, in response to ‘ten thousand reasons’ why Lee Stone will win this match, I really only need one:
I am… Lee Stone.
‘Nuff said.
So now the question I have to ask, based upon what Brady brought up – and this goes out to all of you – is:
Do you really think your better than Lee Stone?
Think about that, and I’m sure you’ll have a very bad day.”
Close file? Yes.
File closed.
File WX:32518AM:BI.
Overview:
Name: Hadrian Burke
Base of Operations: Incomplete
Occupation: Professional Wrestler under alias Famine of the Vile, Financial Backer and Temporary General Manager for IWF
Height: 6’3”
Weight: 260lbs
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Description: Non-employee. Unlikely that a change in personal security level will occur.
Security threat level: 2
Description: Financial resources could be a problem, but no likely reason has been or is intended to be given for threat to occur.
Physical threat level: 6
Description: Threat level seems to be waning from what it once was in structured combat. Unlikely to engage in an unstructured attack.
Security level 9 required for detailed biography.
Proceed? No.
Security level 10 required for extensive summary notes.
Proceed? No.
Close File? Yes.
File Closed.
Log Off? Yes.
Logging off.
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