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MAIN EVENT: New ERA World Heavyweight - Winter Wonderland: HAL v Hart (c)

TheOriginalSE

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All RP for the New ERA World Heavyweight Championship match between HAL and SHAWN HART (c) at Unplugged should be done in this folder. Try to work the holiday theme into RP. Any RP posted outside of the folder will not count.

*Winter Wonderland match. It'll take place outside and in the Omaha Zoo.



The RP deadline is 11:59pm PST on TUESDAY, December 22nd, 2009. Angles should be sent to wfwnewrestling@gmail.com ..

There will be NO RP EXTENSIONS for this show.
 
Last edited:

JLevinson

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Re: New ERA World Heavyweight - Winter Wonderland: HAL v Hart (c)

(FADEIN to what appears to be an old office of some kind. Old computers lie stacked in a corner, and used up CRT monitors lie in a pile next to a wall. Light falls through the window and illuminates the dust floating around, thick in the air. Harold A. Lumbourgh, also known as HAL, leans up against one of the desks, a satisfied look on his face.)

HAL: “You know what I love most about technology? The way it can’t ever stagnate. It cannot simply exist. It must always change. Push forward. Evolve.

“One may look back fondly at old technologies like VHS, and remember all the good times one had recording the local newscast. One may even long to return to those more innocent times.

“Yet one cannot go back. Old technology does not become chic. No matter how one may remember it, it is a relic of the past. A stepping stone to something faster, more powerful, more stunning.

“Kind of like you and I, Shawn Hart. As much as I can stand back and admire what you once contributed to this sport, your time, I’m afraid, has come and gone. Like most obsolete technologies, you, of course, will fail to realize it. At first.

“You’ll tell yourself it’s not over yet. That you’ve got some life left in you. And I’m sure to local flea markets, that may even be the case.

“But WFW:NE cannot stay the same. It cannot move forward while celebrating its past. And its past is you, Shawn Hart. A relic. An old thing.

“I’m sure you tell yourself you aren’t old as you dance in the clubs with women half your age. I’m sure they’re telling themselves the very same thing.

“But you and I know, Shawn. It’s all an illusion.

“The entire world has seen what I can do. You won’t have to look far to find someone who knows. This is the bleeding edge. This is Chrome OS. This is the Droid phone. This is Quad Core.

“I… am the future of WFW:NE. And you are the past. And it doesn’t matter if you’ve been naughty or nice, Shawn, or what you’ve contracted from what prostitute… the fact is, from me, it’s going to be a very, very long Christmas for you.

“Happy Holidays, grandpa.”

(Smiles into the camera and raises a remote. He clicks the button and we FADEOUT.)
 

ShawnHartXXX

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Uber hart counterpoint

FADE IN:

Kicking back in the Rumpus Room of his semi-palatial estate in Orlando, we find the Phenom of WFW and the New Era, SHAWN JESSICA HART.

With his hair in pig tails, a Power Glove covering his right hand, and R.O.B. the robot at his side, the NEW Champion appears to be rocking out to some NES action! As the camera cuts in for a close-up, his half-stepsister (twice removed) FELICIA walks onto the scene.


FELICIA: "What'chu up to, Champ?"

SJH: "Well, dearest sister, I'm only enjoying the FINEST gaming experience ever produced by the Land of the Rising Sun!"

He jukes, jives, and wiggles his hand whilst making a Super Glove Ball save!

FELICIA: "Very jiggy."

SJH: "Indeedily-doodily, but MOREOVER, I'm putting to shame the re-DONK-ulous claim of my esteemed opponent at Unplugged and apparent top-contender to the title, HAL, that OLD technology has no place... when it ABSOLUTELY does!"

FELICIA: "Way to go, bro. So what else you got on this thing?"

Hart can't help but grin.

SJH: "Check THIS out..."

The Phenom turns to R.O.B. the robot and retrieves a gun of orange and silver from his clutches.

FELICIA: "DUCK HUNT!"

SJH: "You bet your sweet ass, sissy-pooh!"

Hart hops to his feet, retrieves the game cartridge from a shelf, and tosses Duck Hunt into the console.

FELICIA: "Uhhhhh...."

The television flashes alternately between blank white and black screens. Meanwhile, the system power light flashes on and off.

SJH: "The hell!?"

SJH quickly retrieves the game from the system, puts it to his mouth, and gives it a hearty BLOW. Both Harts nod their heads and the Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister returns the game to the console.

SJH: "GOD DAMMIT!!"

This time the screen is solid green, and the same 8-bit audio note is playing in an endless loop. Shawn hits the reset button, then again...... and again, but the only thing that changes with each reboot is the tone of the endless audio loop. In frustration, SJH hurls his gun at R.O.B. the robot.

SJH: "AAAAAAAAHHH!!"

FELICIA: "Whooooa, bro! Easy there. You've never needed props to make your point... and after hearing HAL's brand of bull-honky, this particular rebuttal should be a cake walk!"

Hart takes a deep breath.

SJH: "You're right... you're right."

FELICIA: "I mean the NERVE of that guy.. calling you a thing of the past. Saying your time has come and gone!"

SJH: "I know, right?! Meanwhile I'm having perhaps the GREATEST year of my illustrious career, holding TOP gold not only in New Era, but in the Legacy of Champions AND Empire Pro Wrestling to boot, all the while being engaged in a HEATED battle with Joe The Plumber for the TOP ranking in the WWR's weekly wrestling charts. Hell, if ANYTHING hot has happened in the biz this past year, OLD SJH has been right in the thick of it! Call it an outrage, call it a mockery, I call it the TRUTH!"

FELICIA: "Damn straight! And the truth of the matter here is that HAL has about as much of a grip on reality as R.O.B. the robot there."

CUT TO: The broken remains of what was once one of Nintendo's most unique marketing ploys. CUT TO: The Harts, grimacing in unison at the carnage Shawn had caused.

FELICIA: "I mean.... GRANDPA?! Really?! And just how old a guy are you, Shawn?"

SJH: "I'm THIRTY-TWO and IN MY PRIME, nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnndaddio!!"

FELICIA: "No doubt! So if you were really kicking it in the clubs with girls half your age, that would make them what.... SIXTEEN?!"

The Phenom coughs nervously.

SJH: "Ummm..."

FELICIA: "Just what does he take you for? Some kind of PERVERT!?"

Hart chuckles awkwardly.

SJH: "Well uhh... the age of the girls isn't really important. What matters here is that DESPITE his outlandish accusations, the steak n' eggs of the situation here is that I'm a bona-fide ICON in the industry at the TOP of his game. Heh, my main man HAL? Why he's just a flash in the pan that likes to pop in between bouts of utter obscurity. And if that difference isn't apparent to him now, once we go toe-to-toe, it abso-friggin'-lutely will be!"

FELICIA: "You tell 'em!!"

SJH looks directly into the camera.

SJH: "Cuz love me or hate me, the one thing you can't do is underrate me! Because I'm the best this sport has to offer, boy! And if you're not ready to cop to that fact, well... let's just say I'm glad I'm not the one who's gonna have to file all your insurance claims!"

Hart smiles.

SJH: "Heh. See you in the ring, sir. The PHENOM has left the building!"

FADE OUT.
 
Last edited:

JLevinson

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Re: Uber hart counterpoint

(FADEIN to a basement which appears to be in shambles. Computer equipment lies strewn about everywhere. Piles of old equipment litter every possible space on the floor. Despite all this, a fully functional server rack sits against one wall, quietly humming away. Harold A. Lumbourgh, better known as HAL, sits in at a desk, fiddling with a motherboard.)

HAL: “Most people have some cursory understanding of computing as a field. Their know, in an abstract way, that the computer they use is full of 1’s and 0’s. Concretely, they fail to understand what this means.

“See, the power supply provides voltage. The 1’s in a computer are merely a positive voltage. The 0’s are, of course, the ground. And each system is comprised of tiny little electrical components which, when created inside a circuit, can actually turn those little on/off voltages into a basic logic unit, capable of performing simple calculations.

“With these simple calculations, computers were born. And men like you came to know the glory that is the blinking Nintendo Entertainment System.

“Of course, like most of your life, Shawn, you are ignorant of these basic facts. It simply does not cross your mind. Just like it does not cross your mind that I care not what you have done in Legacy of Champions or Empire Pro, or what some simpleminded imbecile ranks you on along with a bunch of other people I haven’t heard of or care about.

“You can call yourself an icon, but you are nothing but the culmination of a decade of mediocrity. You have created a Legacy of Lukewarm. You are a true Master of Mediocrity.

“The only reason you’re even champion is because nobody of my own stature has come and taken the belt from you. You’ve existed in this 8-bit world, insulated from any challenge, and it has made you fat and weak.

“Whether you accept it as simple electrical components or magic, the work must be done. The foundation must be laid. Technologies do not create themselves; and champions are not born of mediocrity.

“For too long, you have sat upon your throne, unchallenged and overconfident. The time has come for the next evolution.

“You may talk about being in your prime, Shawn, but let’s face it: the human body, like any machine, has a limited shelf life. It can withstand only so much punishment before it must be brought in for repair and, eventually, retirement.

“You are a spry 32, Mr. Hart. And I expect you to put up your best fight. Sadly for you, that aging body of yours is unable to do what your mind wills it.

“You’re like the teenage girl who keeps spilling her coffee and tweeting her awful luck with FML acronyms. You think you understand technology, but in the end, you’re just another mindless consumer, used by people like me to create true progress.

“So take your iPhone and your Twitter account and your FML and your used 4chan memes and your Mac, and do your very best, grandpa. Hold onto that fleeting moment, when you were an idol and people in leagues I don’t care about worshipped you.

“We are the ones in control now. We are anonymous. We are the faceless masses. We are cruel and deliberate. And nothing is sacred to us.

“Congratulations, Shawn, you’re about to be a part of history. Sad you won’t be conscious to enjoy it.

“But don’t worry, Shawn. You’ll be able to watch it on YouTube 5 minutes after it happens, just like the rest of the world.”

(He smiles at the camera. Suddenly, the basement door opens and an older female voice calls down.)

HAL’S MOM: “Hey Harold, sweetie pie! Would you like some fresh oatmeal cookies?”

HAL: “God, NOT NOW, MOM, I’M CUTTING A PROMO, COME ON.”

HAL’S MOM: “Fine, sweetheart, I’ll just leave them on the stairs.”

(The door closes. He looks back into the camera, clearly flustered.)

HAL: “Don’t worry, Shawn. I’m going to grow up to be big and strong, just like you. And then I’m going to be Champion, and you…

“.. you’ll just be ancient history.”

(FADEOUT.)
 

ShawnHartXXX

The Phenom
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SJH's Joke Hunt

FADE IN: Street-hussslin' SJH is kicking it on the corner with his best friend, Monster Squad star Andre Gower. The two appear to be sharing a beautiful, brown bag full of wine and engaging in some intense debate.

CUT TO: Hart, as he puts the exclamation on a point.


SJH: "No dude... YO mama's so fat, when she asked for a waterbed - sucka's threw a blanket over Lake Michigan!"

ANDRE: "C'mon Shawn! If THAT were true, you'd be on that ass like spandex. We all know you like 'em big and smelly!"

SJH: "Not to mention OLD."

ANDRE: "You can have the cougars, jus' leave the kittens to me, OK?"

SJH: "No problemo, future stepson!"

ANDRE: "Say what? I'm almost 6 years older than you!"

SJH: "That's how I roll, nnndaddio! Oh, and tell yo mama not to nick it with her teeth next time!"

ANDRE: "Why I oughta!"

SJH: "HAAAAH!! Wolfman's got nards, but so do you... and I just kicked 'em!"

ANDRE: "Enough with the mama jokes. How 'bout the classics?"

Hart scoffs.

SJH: "If by classic you mean LAME, I'm sure you have a veritable bonanza of BS!"

ANDRE: "So?"

SJH: "SO -- let's hear it!"

The former fighter of Dracula cracks a grin.

ANDRE: "Alright, what's brown and sounds like a bell?"

SJH: "I dunno, what?"

ANDRE: "DUUUUUUUNGG!!!!"

The Phenom rolls his eyes.

SJH: "No, no... check this out. What do you call a sleeping cow? Besides your mother, that is."

ANDRE: "Bah! I dunno. What?"

SJH: "A bull dozer! GET IT?!"

The two can't help but chuckle.

ANDRE: "Alright, alright. How 'bout this one - How do you organize a space party?"

SJH blinks... twice.

ANDRE: "You planet!"

SJH: "Oooooh SH(FCC)T!! You're one funny mother trucker, but I've got one that trumps 'em all!

ANDRE: "Oh yeah?"

SJH: "OH YEAH! Perhaps the BIGGEST joke in the history of the world!"

ANDRE: "Wowzers. So what is it?"

Suddenly, the camera cuts in on Hart for an extreme close-up. As it does, he looks directly into it and speaks.

SJH: "Harold A. Lumbourgh's wrestling career!"

ANDRE: "Ooooooooooohhh!! Oh no he di'int!"

Hart's eyes remain fixed to the camera.

SJH: "Oh yes he did.... and believe you me, buddy - he'll CONTINUE to do so until all the world can see Shallow HAL for the fraud he truly is!"

ANDRE: "Do tell."

SJH: "Well y'see, a couple days back... I made the claim that Mr. Lumbourgh was nothing more than a flash in the pan. BUT... upon further reflection, I've come to realize that such a moniker is FAR too kind for such an utterly useless ass hat. You see, to be a flash in the pan, you've got to get the masses talking. You come in, you make an IMPACT, but before your potential is ever truly realized.... POOF! You're out like A-Rod in the playoffs. You've got something GOOD, but true GREATNESS eludes you. I mean, ya wanna talk about a flash in the pan, I've got the primo example right here!"

Andre blushes.

ANDRE: "Here we go."

SJH: "Hey, you know I love you... but I did find you drinking wine from a brown bag on the street corner."

ANDRE: "Heh, guilty as charged!"

Hart looks to his friend, chuckles, and then returns his gaze to the camera's lens.

SJH: "Ol' Andre here... he thought he had it ALL! And for a minute there, he almost did. I mean c'mon now... we're talking about the MONSTER SQUAD!"

Andre takes a chug from his wine bag.

ANDRE: "F(FCC)CKIN' A!"

SJH: "I mean... the war against an evil army of kick-ass movie monsters!"

ANDRE: "Spider with a human head!"

SJH: "Jason Hervey eating candy bars off the street!"

ANDRE: "That funny fat kid!"

SJH: "The friendly Frankenstein!"

ANDRE: "Count Dracula calling your little sister a b(FCC)tch!"

SJH: "Wolfman's got nards?"

ANDRE: "WOLFMAN'S GOT NARDS!"

Hart puts his arm around Andre and nods his head approvingly.

SJH: "Long story short - while my main man Andre may have been one and done, the cold, hard fact remains that in this crazy moment in time we called 1987, he was the STAR in a piece of pop culture history... and despite what's happened since, NO ONE can ever take that away from him!

And therein lies the difference.

Because while Andre Gower is a flash in the pan, a has-been from the 80's... you, HAL, are a never-was. A nothing from nowhere with no future and no past! Sure, you had a little hype in the beginning, and yeah... the powers that be seem to be giving you a second shot, but in all the time you've been toiling in the seedy underbelly of this seedy business, you haven't done a godd(FCC)mned, single, solitary thing of note!"

ANDRE: "No sir!"

SJH: "So when you sit there in yo mama's basement, runnin' your gums about how my various accolades and accomplishments fail to impress you, I can't help but shake my head. You say that you're man destined to usher in a NEW ERA. You say that you're BETTER than me. But talkin' ain't tangible.. the PROOF is in the pudding! Andre? He had his movie. Me? I've got my titles.

What do you have, Harold?"

ANDRE: "Nuthin'."

SJH: "It's totally cool if you don't care where I'm ranked or what belts I'm wearing, but in the MACHINE that is this business... that's how your merit is measured. Like you said, it's all about the 1's and the 0's.

Say what you will, the whole of the wrestling world knows which one of us is which.. and it's gonna be that much more apparent once we actually step inside that ring.

Call it an outrage, call it a MOCKERY, call it the silver bullet that KILLS your sorry career if ya want. What do we call it?"

ANDRE: "The TRUTH!"

SJH: "Word up! Now pass me that bottle, future stepson. The PHENOM has left the building!"

FADE OUT.
 

JLevinson

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Re: SJH's Joke Hunt

(FADEIN to the usual technology-filled basement we’ve seen before. Harold A. Lumbourgh sits on an undersized swivel chair, typing away at something furiously. He seems to be mumbling to himself. He pushes his glasses forward and contemplates the screen. Seemingly satisfied, he leans back and smiles. Finally, he turns towards the screen and speaks with an air of authority, his voice dripping with arrogance.)

HAL: “Is that all you got, Shawn? My wrestling career is a joke? Seriously?

“I spend my days trolling 4chan, Reddit, Digg, Fark, Slashdot… and you think calling me a joke is going to what, hurt my feelings?

“Guess what, Shawn. Not a damn person in that Battle Royal, except perhaps Rocko Daymon, thought I had an even remote shot at walking out of there the champ. You know what they said about me, Shawn? They said I was nobody. That I’d done nothing. That I couldn’t hang with them.

“And where are they now, Shawn? Looking up at the bright lights of the marquee – with MY name on them. In the Main Event.

“Go on, Shawn. Doubt me. Dismiss me. It won’t make any difference at all. They laughed when we said that someday, people would have TERABYTES of personal computing space. They laughed when we talked about common multiprocessor usage. They laughed when we talked about 50 Megabit speed to residential neighborhoods.

“Men like you have no imagination, Shawn. You only see what’s in front of you.

“You see a man with no experience; no titles around his waist. I admit, that in my extremely short career, I have not yet parted the Red Sea. We must all begin somewhere, Shawn, and not all of us are cashing in our AARP cards quite yet.

“But you are too ignorant to understand. Like the global warming skeptic, you simply cannot accept that men smarter than you have drawn a different conclusion.

“I have not yet had a career, yet you fail to see the logical flaw in my lack of success. One cannot succeed where one has barely tried, no, Shawn? Or perhaps this is all too advanced for you.

“In much the same way that past performance cannot always indicate future returns. You have defeated many men, Shawn; but you have not defeated me. No trend can be established. We only know your record against other opponents.

“The truth is, Shawn… you may be a great wrestler. A champion across leagues. A stalwart in some dimwitted man’s personal rankings.

“But I’m smarter than you, Shawn. And I’m younger. And I’m strong. And I will find a chink in that armor, and I will exploit it, just like I did in the Masquerade Ball.

“For you, Shawn… your life is on a slow downward trajectory. No matter what you do, the machine that is your body has already begun its inevitable decay… a broken bone here, a pulled muscle there… as time wears on, so will your body, and your mind, with it…

“The future is inevitable, Shawn. I have only begun my ascension. And you… you have begun your slow fade into the past…

“Enjoy this time, Mr. Hart. This time when you can still claim I’ve done nothing. Because the only thing which lasts forever is the amount of matter and energy in the universe, and let’s face it, Shawn.. in the grand scheme of things, you’re just another chemical reaction.

“Just like me.”

(FADEOUT.)
 

ShawnHartXXX

The Phenom
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Visceral Retort

FADE IN: No bells, no whistles, no elaborate set-up or special guest-stars. Just the NEW Champion, Shawn Jessica Hart, his title belt, and the WFW:NE logo draped across the wall behind him.

With his blue-green eyes fixed firmly on the camera, he speaks.


SJH: "Ya just don't get it, do you..."

Hart shakes his head somewhat disgustedly.

SJH: "Mr. Lumbourgh. Harold.... HAL?"

He shrugs his shoulders and trudges forward.

SJH: "You sit there on your sweet swivel chair, in your SWEET pair of Battlestar Galactica jammies, with your Thinkpads and your TI-8 million graphing calculators... conjuring up formulas and philosophies to Facebook to all of your hopeless followers..... but despite your devices, you FAIL to see what's about to happen here."

The Phenom licks his lips in a manner most salivatory.

SJH: "You talk down to me like I'm some kind of monkey, spittin' endless rhetoric about how advanced you are, how I'm a thing of the past... some kind of visceral relic of a bygone age with no sense of logic or technology."

He can't help but chuckle.

SJH: "But y'see, the thing you can't seem to wrap your head around is that this is a VISCERAL business, a VIOLENT business... and to survive within it, you've got to do things dirty - with your bare freaking hands! Heh, it's a veritable cavalcade of CAVEMEN... and me? I'm king of the Caveman Mountain!"

Hart taps the title belt around his waist.

SJH: "So when you say I'm a throwback, the last remnant of utter barbarism in the face of Java++++, uber-advanced online social networking, walking/talking/house cleaning robots, flying cars and God knows what else.... I say halle-freaking-lujah! Cuz last time I checked, ya can't tweet yourself to the Heavyweight title!"

He shakes his head.

SJH: "You've got to take a step back from those modern conveniences upon which you seemingly base your very existence, make like you're prehistoric, and MARK your territory! So when the time for aaaaaaall this diatribe finally comes to an end, and we're in that ol' wrestling ring with no gizmos, no gadgets, NOTHING between us but the air we're breathing... I'm gonna make like a CAVEMAN and BREAK your skull!"

SJH pounds his right fist into his left palm.

SJH: "Call it an outrage, call it a mockery, call it the Windows Fatal Exception Blue Screen of DEATH if ya want. I call it the TRUTH! And the truth of the matter here is that at Unplugged, your overly-wise ASS is gonna get CLUBBED!

After that, who knows... I may even drag a woman or two back to my cave."

Hart grins impishly.

SJH: "The PHENOM has left the building!"

FADE OUT.
 

JLevinson

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Re: Visceral Retort

(FADEIN to the basement we’ve seen in several promos already. This time, we are in another corner, where an old weight bench sits with a barbell and two 45-pound weights on it. Harold A. Lumbourgh sits on the bench, towering over it with his massive frame. He leans forward and smiles.[/i])

HAL: “I still remember how it was before I discovered the gym. A hapless loser sitting in front of his PC, spending his weekends writing code in C instead of going out and partying. Getting pushed around by small-minded high school minds.

“Of course, even after I discovered the science of health and fitness, I was still spending my free time coding – we cannot help what we are, can we, Shawn.

“But suddenly, nobody messed with me anymore, Shawn. The bigger I got, the quieter everyone else was. And it all started right here, with this 20 dollar weight bench.

“I know all about the physical, Shawn. After all, what are muscles but another form of cellular growth. What is a workout regimen but a method of organizing cellular growth to one’s advantage. The continued analysis of one’s peak physical performance is an intellectual exercise that I am not above.

“Finally, Shawn, we have wrestling itself – a game of strategy, I might add. Just think how many have equated it to a game of chess. Each move can be analyzed and countered. Trends extrapolated.

“For instance, a man such as yourself, at 32… perhaps it is in my best interest to slow the match down, to extend my holds for as long as possible. For a man of 32 seemingly cannot be of the same endurance as a man in his 20’s. Perhaps.

“This is just one aspect. One dimension. One perceptive influence.

“How many do you think there are, Shawn? How many variables? Hydration? Sleep cycles? Workout regimens? Mental dexterity?

“How do you think one would model such a thing, Shawn? Does your brain even consider these possibilities? Or are you simply happy to leave it prehistoric. To draw upon instinct and let the cards fall as they may.

“So be it, Shawn. I know physicality – after all, physics is one of my absolute favorite things, my friend. Along with beating ignorant subhumans into a pulp – a strange hobby, perhaps, for a man of my intellect.

“Yet I must admit, I get some amusement at beating you at your own game. Showing you that here, even in the realm of violence… it is the swifter mind which advances.

“We shall see, Shawn Hart, if your confidence is a result of your ability, or a flaw in your gameplan which allows you a vulnerable moment or two? Only time will tell.

“So many possibilities.”

(FADEOUT.)
 

ShawnHartXXX

The Phenom
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SJH @ The Scene of the Crime

FADE IN: NEW Champion SHAWN JESSICA HART is standing by from what appears to be an igloo. Off-camera, a production assistant can clearly be heard trying to get the Phenom going after a missed cue, but alas... Hart's designer ear muffs prove too great a sound barrier, and the Champ instead remains motionless. The PA and Director begin to grumble and fumble about nervously when suddenly SJH breaks his silence.

SJH: "Heyoooooooooo!! I'm Shawn Hart, and I'm coming to you live from-"

Before he can finish his sentence, his snow goggle strap snaps and the eyewear falls to the icy ground below him. He leans over slightly to pick it up and his hat falls off as well. Seconds later, the grumbling production assistant appears on-screen, gathering up Hart's goods, and doing his best to reposition them on his head. Afterwords, he scurries out of the shot and SJH resets.

SJH: "I'm Shawn Hart, and I'm coming to you LIVE from the site of my impending victory in my latest defense of the NEW Heavyweight Title, the Omaha Zoo!"

Hart adjusts his goggles.

SJH: "More specifically, I'm standing by in PANDA LAND... home to some of the most amazingly jiggy arctic bears one could ever hope to see in captivity!"

In the background, the growling of bears is audible.

SJH: "Heh, one might ask themselves - why? WHY is SJH putting himself in a pen with potentially dangerous wild animals on the eve of such a big title bout?! But hey, what BETTER way to prep for a battle amongst the beasts than to jump outta the fat and INTO the FIRE! Or, in this case, an icy-cold bear haven!"

The growling sounds out once more, this time more loudly. SJH shivers slightly at the sound of it.

SJH: "See, my main man HAL, he likes to talk strategy, A to B to C; LOGICAL progression... and all'a that jazz has its place in every facet of life. But when you're out here in the elements, with kangaroos, and birds of prey... and tigers and zany wrestling promoters unleashing GOD knows what at every corner to ensure that their main event is Pay-Per-View SUPREME - having a plan of attack will only take you so far.."

He rubs his hands together.

SJH: "Heh, it may be the Holidays, but the LAST thing these hairy monsters care about is whether or not we have a Happy Hanukkah. So you can take all your plans, your algorithms, and your scientifically-crafted training routines and toss 'em, bro. Out here, in the wintry wild.... INSTINCT is the only thing that's gonna get the job done! Instinct.. and that innate will to SURVIVE, against all odds, that so few of us truly know how to cultivate."

He takes a deep breath, then resumes rubbing his hands together for warmth.

SJH: "And so it is, while yer sittin' in yer mama's basement, clobbering another batch o'cookies, that I'm here... doing my DAMNDEST to prepare for the unpreparable. That way, when you're out here with me... I'll be able to cope when nature throws me a curve ball. I mean, if I have to beat you SENSELESS with a live, screeching penguin - I'll do it. If a silverback gorilla comes up on us wanting to mate - I'll know just the pose to keep it off my ass... and all up in yours! If we find ourselves cornered in this igloo, and out of NOWHERE, one of these bears come busting in here like its a Coke commercial-"

Suddenly, a hulking (man in a) polar bear (suit) does just that! Without a second thought, Hart retrieves a bottle opener from his coat and the PA tosses him a cold bottle of cola. Alertly, the Phenom snaps the top off.

SJH: "I'll be ready with the FINEST soft-drink one could ever dream to experience."

Hart takes a sip, lets out a satisfactory, "Ahhh..", and then looks directly into the camera with a smile.

SJH: "Coca-Cola Classic! Just for the taste of it!"

He hands the Coke to the (guy in the) polar bear (suit) and he immediately becomes docile. SJH chuckles heartily.

SJH: "Heh, bottom line - you and I are very different animals, Harold. I'm the Tom Cat... KING OF THE JUNGLE, ready to rip and roar his way through anything that strays into its path. I've lived a wild and whirly life... and I'm better for it. You? You've been bred in the captivity of I-Phones, MySpace, and XHTML. And like all such creatures, when you're finally released back into the habitat from whence your species came, your ass is gonna get RIPPED apart by the carnivores like me that have remained in the wilderness. Call it an outrage, call it a mockery, call it a cheap plug for the Coca-Cola Company in ya like. You know that I know that YOU know it's the TRUTH!"

Hart nods his head in self-agreement.

SJH: "And the TRUTH of the matter is that after Unplugged, while I'm WALKIN' in a Winter Wonderland... your jackhole ass is gonna be DEAD from exposure!

The Phenom has left the building!"

FADE OUT.
 

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