_{Taking the Spotlight}
^{Starring Dan Stein}

The next afternoon, Stein sits on his couch, watching DVDs sent to him by ICE. Along with both of his opponents promos, Stein received the Faith/Ice joint promotion, which struck him as odd. His hair was in a mess, his body was topless wearing only board shorts and Iowa Hawkeye slippers. He smirked to himself as the promotions played, eating away at his Rice-A-Roni bowl.

The camera opened on Stein sitting alone in a dark room. Only a 'spotlight' in the ceiling shining down on him, which was just the way he liked it. Stein was now fully clothed, a blue with white striped shirt hung loosely over his white American Eagle t-shirt. He sat on a barstool, his sandals rested on the ground while his feet clung to the bottom bar. And he smiled brightly as the camera rolled...

The Lights: "Wowzah! I haven't even been here a month, and Mr. Freeze is already mentioning me in his promos. That's just the way I like it, easier than I thought, really. I wanted to take ICE by storm, I just didn't know that I'd be get cross promotion by the champ, right? I mean, shit, any press is good press. So thanks, Levine. Maybe I'll buy a Maroon 5 CD and support your music, I think that's the least I could do for a guy that's coming down to my level and what not."

Stein makes the 'jerk-off' gesture.

The Lights: "Really, though, Champ. A person as boring, long winded and utterly fucking retarded as you needs not mention my name for a few cheap hits. It's fine, I know you're struggling here. Working with people like Big Titted Bimbo McFloppyPuss and all. Such is the life of a balding 27 year old, trying to keep his pull in the business. But, please. Try to use your own name as a hotspot, rather than using the names of forty five other wrestlers. PLEASE, Champ. Do that for me. But, I. Myself? I'll stay here and address you as I please because even if you were to have icicles shooting out of your ass, I wont back down from telling you how I feel, Captain Cool. Good luck this week. Maybe you'll win without having Thunder Cunt 69 backhand your opponents before you get the upperhand."

Stein chuckles, looking up at the ceiling, and around the light.

The Lights: "Then again, maybe if you keep mentioning me, I'll get a shot at your Universal Championship... but you don't want that, do you?"

Stein laughs to himself, before running his hand through his hair.

The Lights: "But, alas. This is not a match with Ice, and I'm not focusing on Ice. No, my focus the entire week has been the Asian Sensation and Vicente Fox's favorite son, Fusion. This Fusion cat, the masked wonder from not-so down under, throwing out derogatory terms that any Generation Xer would be pissed about, but not me. Guy calls me a Gringo, that's fine. Call me names, Greaser, I don't care. But calling a back man a Gringo? What the fuck? You're either a fake, a retard, or a mixture of the two. I believe it's a mixture of the two. Here, I'll tell you why. Hell, I'll even break it down so a confused man such as yourself can understand."

Stein laughs, holing out his hand. He points at his index finger.

The Lights: "You're a fake because you can't wrestle. You're a fake because you don't know what the fuck a gringo is. You're a fake because you think you're the superstar in this match. You're a retard because you think anyone... ever... cares about what you did in these 'other' promotions. You're a retard because you think myself, or Jayson Black, wont hesitate to smack that stupid porn-stache off your face if you get too big for your britches. And most importantly, you're a retard because you sincerely believe that you're going to get the Alias belt. Which, my Mexican friend, is the most ridiculous thing I've heard since I stepped foot in ICE, other than any moronic one liner Ice used in his joint with Faith... but lets not forget, he's the champ - everyone fears him. YOU, though. You're a damned fool if you think I fear anything about you, 'holmes'."

Stein makes the air quotes as he finishes his statement, smirking.

The Lights: "Jayson and I beat you two already, Fusion. Why in the fuck are we to believe you're going to believe that we wont do it again? You and Kenji are similar, that's for damned sure. Both drug addicts, both think you're tough shit, and both going to be 0-2 against The Lights in ICE."

Stein reshuffles himself, looking at the camera.

The Lights: "Oh, but don't take my word for it, Kenji. You're the dumbass fucking around with the Yakuza again. Here you are, back where you started, after bitching and moaning about how bad your life was. Keep fucking complaining about your life, how the Yakuza keeps fucking you over, killing off everyone you've ever loved, I don't give a shit. You're not going to get my fucking sympathy, you whiney ass gimp. 'Oh, my life is so hard, I have bum legs and keep wrestling because that's what I do, and thats who I am.' Holy shit, Kenji. That's it. I know who you are, now. You're that kid in high school that cut himself when his ex-girlfriend left him. You're that kid that jumped off the top of the roof for attention. You want somebody to love you, don't you Kenji? What you need is a nice, big, huge ass hug... I hear Faith is good with her hands, I'll try to arrange something.

"But, really, Kenji. Nobody cares about you. As delusional as you are, talking shit to stars and what not... don't even begin to believe you're half the wrestler that I am WITH the use of your legs, let alone without them. This isn't OPW, this isn't an exploding pad match, or what the fuck ever. I'm not Azraith DeMitri, Ichiro Seppuku or Christopher Davis. I'm Dan Stein. This isn't a hardcore match, you're not going to go around bashing people with chairs and get away with it. You're going to be wrestling ME. And that, Kenji, means one thing for you, and thus Fusion."

Stein stood up, walking out of the light.

The Lights: "Lights Out."

And the spotlight clicks off.

Stein smirks to himself, as clapping could be heard. The cameraman walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him, and yet... the clapping continues, thundering about the room. Stein turns his head, as the lights in the room turn on. Stein stands up, brushing off his khaki cargo shorts, as he holds out his hand for the man in the room.

Dan Stein: "I got this."

The man chuckles, pulling a cigar from his mouth.

Johnny: "I think you've got more than just this match, Danny. You're getting the spotlight."

Stein nods, grinning.

Dan Stein: "Indeed I am, Johnny. Indeed I am."