Cut to:

Cactus and Raven, once again.

Cactus Jack: So, what I’m saying Sabu, is that the situation is more serious than you would assume. You can't stop the wheels that have already been set in motion. No matter how hard you try, Sabu, it won’t work. This Sunday Night, at Spring Stampede, Raven is going to become the number one contender to the United States title and I am, well… well, I’M GOING TO BEAT YOU, SABU!

. Cactus’ thrusts a pointed finger into the camera lens.

Cactus Jack: Heck, just the other day I was at home doing some cooking with my little boy, we were making some Gingerbread Men. And, you know what Sabu? As I was taking some Gingerbread Men out of the oven, I'll tell you what, I kinda’ saw that cookie sheet and I… I just stopped what I was doing. See, I dropped the little Gingerbread Men on the floor and I drifted off into some kinda’ day dream with little Dewey’s words echoing in my mind; “What’s wrong, Daddy?” – he said. AND, I COULDN’T BEAR TO TELL HIM! You see, I don’t my little boy knowing what kind of psychotic and violent man his Daddy really is!! ‘Cause there I am, right there in my kitchen, I’m baking cookies with my little boy, I’m trying to be a good, loving, caring father but when I gaze upon that cookie sheet I kinda’ wished I could POWEE someone right over the head… right on the kisser! You know who that someone was, Sabu? IT WAS YOU, DAMN IT! IT WAS YOU!

Cactus inhales deeply, drawing the snot back up his nose.

Cactus Jack: But before I knew it, I had come back around to my senses.. only, I wake up – I snap out of my little trance to find myself holding that cookie sheet in what looked like I was just about to strike my own son!

Cactus looks guilty.

Cactus Jack: God only knows what I could have done. It scared me a little, Sabu, because right there I realised just what Cactus Jack was truly capable of! It showed me what kinda’ guy he really is! He doesn’t love anybody, he doesn’t care about anybody when he gets tapped into that twisted streak of his. It makes me do things that I can’t control. I can’t hold the urges back, and that means, Sabu, THAT IT DOESN’T LOOK GOOD FOR YOU!!

Jack takes a deep breath.

Cactus Jack: So, Sabu, the way I see it there’s two possible scenarios to this outcome. I’m gonna’ do the “nice-guy” thing and give you an out. Don’t you understand, Sabu? I’m giving you a chance. You see you can stay to fight me, but I’ll win and fact remains you might not walk out of Phoenix, Arizona in one piece, OR, you can walk away now. It doesn’t matter what you do, because the way I see it you don’t have a future in World Championship Wrestling, anyway kiddo’. WCW is a proud organization. They have got a reputation for family values. They can’t afford to have a man like you, Sabu, running around putting other people through tables, heck, putting himself through tables! They can’t afford the broken bones, they can’t afford the bloodshed, they can’t afford the symphony of destruction that you will so surely orchestrate. Sabu, they can’t afford you screwing up their television syndication. So time is of the essence, and not because I harbour any hatred for you it seems that if you don’t realise that you don’t have a spot in this company and chose to your leave as a gesture of your own good will… then maybe, I’ll have to make the vow right now to run you outa’ town and rid this fine established company of the man they call ‘Sabu’ for once and for good!

A hint of a smirk spreads on Jack’s face.

Cactus Jack: You have no future here. Either you leave or I force you to. But, hah…

Jack chuckles.

Cactus Jack: I’m starting to feel like a hypocrite here. Because, you see Sabu, I’m trying to help you. I mean, Paul Heyman tells me we got a match, April 29th at the American Airlines Centre... I tell him, I don’t think so because I’m gonna’ talk you outa’ it for your own good. I‘m counting on your knowledge and just one little bit of common sense to prevail and understand that this match is pointless… you don’t have to fight me, it won’t get you anywhere other than a hospital bed. On the other hand though, Sabu, I feel I’m contradicting myself, that I’m doing myself out of a turn. ‘Cause, you see, I wanna’ fight you, Sabu. I don’t want you to go home right now, I just want you to realise you could save yourself the struggle this Sunday Night. ‘He who runs away’, Sabu, ‘lives to flee another day’. But I’m a sick, Sabu, I’m one sick twisted individual. I wanna’ hurt you. But the only way that I can avoid my conscience afterwards is if I warn you beforehand of what you’re getting yourself into. It’s hard to believe, but, somewhere deep inside this demented mind there lurks a soft spot. A soft spot for the things that have gone through my life. A soft sport for the wrestling history in my life. And, a soft spot, Sabu, for you, because you are a part of my wrestling history. And after Sunday Night… YOU WILL BE WRESTLING HISTORY!

Jack coils sadistically.

Cactus Jack: You’re on a a rollercoaster trip straight to hell, but I feel that I could step in and just save the day, but you're making that very difficult and to be honest with you, I don’t really think I want to save you anyway. Because, you see, in years to come when I hear with eager ears the tales of the great Sabu in WCW, I want to be able to think back proudly with a great feeling of satisfaction to the night of April 29th, Spring Stampede, to where I ended his miserable career.

Jack smirks wickedly.

Cactus Jack: If you choose to cross my path this Sunday Night… THEN YOU CHOOSE A LIVING HELL! But let it rest on your shoulders! I won’t take the blame! I won’t take the responsibility! Because, Sabu, I don’t know what I might do to you. But, Sabu… I’m on my knees. Look I’m on my knees, Sabu…

Jack drops to his knees, his hands up in a pleading gesture.

Cactus Jack: … and I’m begging Sabu, I’m asking for the favour… I don’t want you to take the easy way out. I begging you, give me what I want, Sabu. Grant me the distinction of being the man who the ended the legacy of Sabu for all time. You’re homicidal, you’re genocidal… well Sabu, I’m praying that this Sunday Night you’re feeling SUICIDAL because I want you to turn up, Sabu! I want this match! Let’s let it all hang out! Where the winds don't count! Where the numbers one, two, three don't mean a damn thing! To where the only variable that means anything is guts. Because you've got them, and I know that once upon a time I did too. See, this Sunday Night, I wanna’ look deep inside my soul, and say; ‘Cactus Jack, if you can't take Sabu out in the most vicious match in the game, The Hardcore Street Fight, then maybe you better become a full time Daddy and forget about wrestling, because WCW isn’t for the faint of heart’! And Sabu, I don’t want to do that, I don’t want to be a fully time Daddy… no way, not in a million years. I guarantee you Sabu, I swear on it, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.

Jack grins, an evil intent burning in his eyes.

Cactus Jack: So Sabu, lets put those fingers up, and until next time …BANG BANG!

Cactus fires off the finger-pistols into the air with a remarkably cheesy grin on his face as Raven stands over Jack’s hunched posterior with both his arms outstretched in the Crucifix (Wings of Raven) pose casting an imposing shadow over his lackey.

Raven: Quote the Raven; ...Nevermore.

Cut.

End Transmission.

Static.