WIRE INDEX...
#1: The Crushin' Russian (taped before the SNSM lineup came out)
#2: Alan Soriano
#3: The Flying Scotsman
#4: Brian J. Blottie
#5: Jason and Eddie Deegan
==
==
THE CRUSHIN' RUSSIAN

<>

Talm:  Wow, I can't believe you're actually doing an interview on your
own free will.

CRussian:  Don't get used to it, but I've got some things to say.

Talm:  Alright, lets start by talking about your match earlier tonight
against "Hell's Angel"  Jeremy Houston.  What was up with your
lackadaisical performance?

CRussian:  I don't need the NACW's crap.  I don't need to dick around
with their new meat.  I'm a a top teir wrestler in this Fed, and I get
shoved into rookie matches.  I'm just sick of this sh*t.  I had something
to prove.  I didn't want to be there, that's right.  But I think I made
my points.  I can handle your SuperRookies like Houston in my sleep.  I
barely had to show up.  He hadn't done his homework, huh.  He thinks his
pissy ass moves can cause me pain?  He doesn't even know what pain is.
Just another American Punk who thinks he's a lot more than he is, that's
all.

Talm:  So you were unimpressed by Houston?

CRussian:  I think against weaker competition he'd be pretty good, but
when you put him in the ring with me, well, the results are frightening.


Talm:  But you only landed one move!

CRussian:  Very true, Tommy, one move.  Let that be a lesson to you
all--one Drop of Vodka is all it takes to ruin your life forever.  One
move....Houston's lucky he still has a spine.

Talm:  Sure...now, on to more pressing and heated issues.  You've
expressed yourself quite clearly on Jeremy Rhodes in the past several
weeks.  Any new thoughts after this week's happenings.

CRussian:  F*ck Rhodes.  I've got a lot more to say than just sh*t about
Jeremy Rhodes.  I've got a little story to tell you.   <>  Three years ago, I came to America after I had conquered
every wrestling domain in the eastern hemisphere.  I came here for
competition, for titles, for respect.  I have found none of that here.  I
came to the NACW looking for an upper level of competition and something
different. But I have found it all the same.  I have found the same
lackluster competition, I have found typical American trash.  Trash like
Blottie, Russell, Rhodes, Scotsman, and Walters.  I guess this is
directed at you guys then.  You make me sick.  Back in Russia, we have a
little something that you all seem to be greatly lacking,
comrades,...PRIDE.  Blottie, you think you are the champion because your
paper says so?  F*ck you.  You will never be a champion--just a
titty-suckin mamma's boy who couldn't wrestle anywhere but on paper.  I
find typical Americans like you spineless sheep anywhere, the NACW isn't
special.  A little piece of paper makes you a man, huh.  Just a paper
man, Blottie, that's all you are, a paper man.  The Pride of Mother
Russia, the Monster From Moskow, the Vodka Vampire--me, the Crushin
Russian--I will soon bring Pride and respect to the NACW when the gold is
around my waist--won through blood, sweat, and tears--whereas you bring
the belt nothing but shame, won by a sheet of paper.  One day my
comrades, we will see.... we will see.....

Talm:  Wow.  I didn't know you could actually talk coherently.  Whew.
You sure said a mouthful, though.  I hope you've got somebody watching
your back after spilling that load on the most dangerous men in the NACW.
 Any final thoughts?

CRussian:  I think that the day of reckoning soon aproaches.  For me, for
the NACW, and especially for Jeremy Rhodes---on May 29th.  Get ready
Rhodes, 'cause its gonna be a bloody, painful, dirty War--and you'd
better be ready.

<>
==
==
ALAN SORIANO

(The scene fades into an interview table...From left to right sit Adam
Pulsford, Johnny Blaze, and Johnny Coast. The Cali Connection has just
taken a shower it appears, for they have towels wrapped around their
necks and their hair is wet...Pulsford looks into the camera..)

Adam: Hello NACW fans, and welcome to NACW Aftermath, the post interview
show of the NACW..I am Adam Pulsford, and I am here with the Cali
Connection who made a great impression tonight in the main event....

Blaze: Look you old fogey, we made a helluvan impression, and you best
remember that...Oh fuck!

(Johnny Blaze and Johnny Coast look up in horror at something off
camera..Suddenly, a hand is seen grabbing Coast by the neck and tossing
him over the table, and to the left out of camera view..)

Alan: YOU LITTLE BITCHES!

(The man who has thrown Coast is Former NACW World Champion Alan Soriano,
obviously a trifle upset about the occurences tonight....He grabs Blaze,
who takes a swing over the table..Alan takes his arm and tosses him over
and onto the ground. He then proceeds to do something very grisly: pops
Blazes shoulder out of place, then pops it back in again..)

Blaze:OOWWWW..OH GOD! MY SHOUDLER!

Alan: WHOS THE BITCH NOW, JOHN-BOY??HUH? HUH?

(Alan pops the shoulder out of place again when he sees Coast charging at
him..Coast leaps, but Soriano catches the lightweight and throws him head
first diving style into the interview table like one would throw a knife
into wet grass...Soriano kicks Blaze in the shoulder again, and pops it
again back into place...Pulsford, who is scared for his life now, is
backing away from an enraged Soriano...Soriano turns towards him...)

Alan: LISTEN HERE, OLD MAN! YOU GET YOUR GERIATRIC ASS IN GEAR, AND FIND
ME PAUL DAVIDSON AND PATRICK GOTTESGEN! TELL THEM TO MEET ME IN MY
DRESSING ROOM IN FIVE MINUTES..OR I TEAR THE WHOLE FREAKING PLACE APART!

Pulsford:Now Alan..What happened tonight was..Dispicable..

(Alan grabs Pulsford by his polo shirt pocket, lifting the 175 lb man
with one hand and holding him up on the wall...)

Alan: DONT GIVE ME YOUR SORRY ASS VIEW ON THR SITUATION..JUST GET THEM TO
MY DRESSING ROOM OR ELSE..GOT IT OLD MAN?

Pulsford: Yes sir..Alan, Im your friend...

Alan:(Through gritted teeth) I know..Just get them so I dont do something
I will regret to you....

(Pulsford hurries off, and Soriano walks an opposite way..Pulsford is
heard screaming to the cameraman.."FOLLOW HIM!"..The cameraman follows
Soriano through the hall, where Guapo Miguel, holding his back, gets in
his way..)

Miguel: Hey, watch it..OH NO ME GUSTA!

(Soriano proceeds to pick up the lard ass and throws him into the
wall..The wall collapses against the weight, so Miguel technically goes
through the wall...Soriano continues to walk quickly down a hallway of
dressing rooms...)

Alan: AGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!

(Alan destroys a table in the hallway with an axehandle, breaking it in
half...Then punches a hole through the wall...He skakes off the pain and
lets out another scream...He encounters a bloody Jeremy Rhodes in the
hallway...still looking like Geri Halliwell)

Rhodes: Alan! Look man, Im so sorry what...

(Alan walks briskly by him..)

Alan: Leave me the FUCK ALONE YOU DRESS WEARING LITTLE FAG!

(Rhodes proceeds to walk slightly behind him, trying to talk to him..)

Rhodes: No, actually its a skirt..A dress is..

Alan:(Turning to him and stopping) SHUT THE FUCK UP!

(Alan continues walking, Rhodes follows...)

Rhodes: Alan, I know you are under a lot of stress, but I know the number
of a woman who can take your mind off things..

Alan:(Still walking, speaking through gritted teeth..) I dont need a
whore..I just got fucked over by one...

Rhodes: But could Alexa tie a Twizzler into a knot in her mouth? Wait,
actually, from what Ray Garcia told me...

Alan:(Turning towards him again) LOOK! I DONT NEED TO HEAR ABOUT THIS
SHIT
RIGHT NOW! I JUST WANT TO GO HOME AND FORGET ABOUT HER!

Rhodes: Well, wait a few hours..Brian is helping her unload her stuff
from...your.....place...

(Alan looks about ready to explode...Then, The Flying Scotsman comes up
in a kilt and soccer jersey, holding a Furby with a kilt on...)

Scots: Alan, I gottta litta present for ya lad..

(Alan promptly smiles at the Furby, then throws it down on the ground and
stomps it until it is nothing but a bit of fur and metal...Alan stomps
away, but Rhodes leave shim alone, and stands with Scotsman, and both men
shake their heads and laugh...But Soriano is almost to his dressing room
when Insane Wayne, who is sitting on the floor with Little Doll, stops
him..)

Wayne: Alan..I know youve been hurt..Need a friend? May I be your friend?

ALan: NO YOU FREAK! WHY WOULD I WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND! LAST TIME I SAW
YOU, YOU WERE TRYING TO TAKE MY NUTS OFF WITH A WOODEN FORK! LEAVE ME
ALONE!

Wayne: Just trying to help..whats that? Okay, lets go..No, we always eat
where you want to...

(Wayne gets up and leaves as Alan reaches his dressing room and slams the
door, cameraman locked out...SOme commotion is heard in there as well as
yelling...Glass shattering, some serious metal being thrown around..AFter
about a minute, Paul Davidson, in his Cleveland Indians jersey, and
Pattrick Gottssegen, in his suit, walk up to the door..Davidson
knocks...)

Davidson: Alan...Alan?

Alan:What...

Davidson: Can we come in?

Alan....

(No answer, so Davidson turns the handle...He opens the door to find Alan
with his head in his hands and the room a total mess.I mean, its a
disaster area..)

Davidson: Look Alan, Im sorry about what happened, but a contract is a..

Alan: SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU GOD DAMNED SUIT! YOU CORPERATE HEAD SITTING
UP THER EIN YOUR LITTLE CORPERATE BOX...YOU DONT KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE TO
WORK FOR SOMETHING AND HAVE IT GONE ON A FUCKING TECHNICALITY! DO YOU!?

Davidson: Listen Alan, you are one of our top draws, a great competitor,
a great guy, and a great champion, but if you dont stop with all of this,
Im going to have to..

Alan: WHAT DAVIDSON?

(He stands up to the owner...)

Davidson: You touch me, I not only fire your ass, but I sue. Besides, I
didnt write and sign the contract, remember?

(They both look at Gottsegen...)

Alan: What happens if I touch him?

Davidson: Eh..Ill fine ya...500 bucks...

Gottsegen: ONLY 500 BUCKS????

Alan: Pato...Thats it...ITS ON MOTHER FUCKER!

(Alan grabs the commish and throws him across the room....Gottsegen hits
whats left of the mirror hard...Davidson slowly ushers the cameraman out
of the room..)

Davidson: This may be innappropriate viewing...Its best nobody sees
this..

Gottsegen: OH GOD NO!!! *Crack* AGGGGGGHHHHH!

(Door closes...SIlence..Fade out..)

(Fade back in..An ambulance is seen at the entrance to the arena carting
out three men in stretchers: One, a red haired man, has his on a splint,
and is screaming...Another, a blond with a bowl cut, is seen with many
bandages on his head and blood pouring through them...And a third, a well
to do looking man in a suit, is seen with cuts and bruises on his face, a
splint, a neck brace, and is seen moaning in pain...The camera pans over
to a Chevy Truck parked near the arena..Alan Soriano sits on the parking
curb..Hes running his hand through his longish blond hair..Hes out of his
ring attire and dressed in a leather slick jacket,black shirt, and blue
carpenter jeans with black boots. Suddenly, a woman who looks to be about
20-21 years old with brown hair, a slim figure, and a short summer dress
with nylons, and a black jacket on comes up to him..Only her back is seen
by the camera...)

Woman: Alan? Hey...I saw that happened today...Wanna talk?

(Alan looks up at her in surprise...And then with a sly look on his face,
says..)

ALan: Lets go...

(The woman, back turned, gets into the truck after Alan opens up the door
for her. He  goes to the other side, revs up the engine, and then the
truck leaves...)

To be Continued.......

(FTB)
==
==
THE FLYING SCOTSMAN

[Scotsman is shown sitting in a car park, leaning on a car.  He's eating
some salt and vinegar chips, and drinking a beer.  He is wearing tartan
shorts, but no t-shirt.  He has sandals on.  It is roasting hot!]

Scotsman: "Well well well..what an SNSM last night.  Success, thats what
it was.  100% success...for me anyway."

Jimmy: "Success? You never won the tag titles."

Scotsman: "We never lost them either.  But who DID lose them?
Hmmm...guess we'd have to notch that D-E-F-E-A-T down to the
R-E-B-E-L-S!"

Jimmy: "Stop spelling stuff out.  I know how to spell."

Scotsman: "F-U-C-..."

Jimmy: "Stop! We're trying to tone down the NACW product! We're already
rated R!"

Scotsman: "Thats because of you're commentary! F'n and blinding like a
bloody trooper.  Picking your nose on National TV..I mean what the hell
is the matter with you Jimmy? You're a disgrace to our team, and as you
ARE my official cameraman, you're making me look bad."

[The camera zooms in on Scotsman's chest hair.  He has shaved the word
'DILDO' out of it]

"I mean..I have to look professional..I'm a big star now..I mean I have
my title..and sure I'm stuck in the mid-card..but if I want to be a main
eventer one day, I have to present myself as a good, proud man.  I can't
do that if I have skeletons in my closet!"

[Camera zooms in to the hash pipe sticking out of Scotsman's shorts]

"So next time you go on national TV spouting your garbage, you better not
swear, or I'll have to start implementing strict discipline laws.
Understand?"

Jimmy: "Yes sir, mr King Scots of All Time."

Scotsman: "Thats better.  Now back to last night.  First, me and ol
Jeremy kicked The Ghetto Dogz asses.  Ya know I don't know too much about
the ghetto, but I've heard a few of these so-called rap songs from
there...'U can't Touch This'...'Ice Ice Baby'...what a joke!"

Jimmy: "Uh..."

Scotsman: "Shutup, I know what I'm talking about.  Now Ghetto Toyz, you
guys put up a great fight.  You almost beat ol Jeremy Greremy there.
Luckily I was just that little bit quicker.  The Scottish Dildaw Baw
Breaker move..or something to that effect..showed you boyz
that..uh..that..that we won! Yeah! 3:16 or something! Uh.. Smack Down!
Suck It! Suck It I say..forsooth boyz..suck it!"

Jimmy: "Been watching RAW again Scots?"

Scotsman: "It was on..I was in the house bored..it was either that or
Nitro!"

Jimmy: "Ah ok.  I understand."

Scotsman: "Good stuff Big Sexy..wheres little sexy? FEEL THE BANG!
...........................[silence].........."

Jimmy: "Watched the Nitro replay huh Scots?"

Scots: "Yeah."

Jimmy: "Why the silence?"

Scotsman: "Goldberg catchphrase."

[They both laugh]

"Now back to business.  Jello Boyz, good match.  You're two tough sons of
bitches, thats for sure."

"Then we had to go in and fight 4 relatively fresh men..in the same
night! The Deegans only really had VooDoo to take care of...which they
did rather well..and The Rebels only had to sit in the back..drink some
pop and watch me and Jeremy blading like a bunch of two-bit whores."

Jimmy: "Two-bit whores blade?"

Scotsman: "Like you wouldn't belie..I mean..so I've heard.  Blottie told
me."

Jimmy: "Ah."

Scotsman: "I always knew this was going to be a stiff match...The Deegans
I feel are the top tag team in the NACW, and they proved it with some
great team-work.  My hardest..my toughest match yet..was against Jason
Deegan.  Eddie is just as good.  What a team..."

Jimmy: "Stop kissing butt!"

Scotsman: "I'm not! I'm stating my honest feelings.  I love you guys...
Jason...Eddie...oh god I'm all shy now..[Scotsman goes red]...will you..
heh..um..uh...*cough*...[mumbles]ary ....e like...uh.."

Jimmy: "What???"

Scotsman: "I asked them to marry me! I proposed to the Deegans! So sue
me! I mean..I had to right..it was the only thing to do.."

Jimmy: "Yeah..the only thing..you were pushed right against a wall, being
FORCED to propose to them.."

Scotsman: "Yeah well I'm gonna make you marry Jeremy Rhodes! So there!"

[Jimmy starts crying]

"Now I know Jeremy lost us the match...but he tried his best.  He took a
lot of punishment, and he just can't handle the pressure basically. He
lost a lot of blood...and that was that.  I couldn't carry him against 4
men..so we lost.  Bummer."

"But on the bright side..so did the Rebels.  Rebels..next Sunday its me
and Jeremy vs you guys..and you know whats good? Even if Jeremy gets
knocked out..as he probably will..you still have to knock me out! And I
think its pretty impossible to knock someone out with balls like this!"

[Scotsman pulls his shorts down, showing off his testicles(which are
blurred]

"Pretty big eh? I bet now you're worried."

[Scotsman pulls his shorts back up]

"Now I have to go and do a little training for my match..."

[Scotsman stands up and the camera zooms out to show him standing in a
Wal-Mart car park]

[He picks up a bag which is full of crowbars, pipes and other fun yet
dangerous objects]

"Oh boy I'm gonna enjoy this!  Wal-mart Security..watch out!  Wal-mart
door greeter...watch out!  Wal-mart..shoppers..watch out! Unless  you're
really big of course..in which case..uh..how ya doin sexy?"

[With that Scotsman walks over to Wal-mart, removing his shorts from the
crack of his butt]
==
==
BRIAN J. BLOTTIE

*Scene opens with a closeup of a glass of champagne.  The glass is very
elegant looking, and shines a bit in the light.  Bubbles slowly rise to
the top of the glass*

Voice: A toast!  To my Brothers...

*Cut to a shot of "The Lobo" Jeremy Rhodes, his head wrapped in bandages,
and The Flying Scotsman, looking exhausted, each holding a glass of
champagne in their hands.  Rhodes wears a Spice Girls t-shirt, as The
Flying Scotsman wears a shirt saying "The Most Galvanizing Man In Sports
Internetment!" with a picture of Bob Booreng under it.  Both of them lift
their glasses*

Voice: To my trusted student...

*Cut to a shot of Josh Walters, a smile stretched across his face.  He is
wearing a "Legend's Dojo" t-shirt, and a pair of black jeans.  He holds
up his glass of champagne*

Voice: To President Gottsegen, who could not be with us tonight, though
he is here in spirit...

*Cut to a shot of Alexa Soriano, a smile on her face.  She is literally
glowing, and is wearing a "Simply Legendary" t-shirt, that comes down to
her legs.  Other than the t-shirt, it is impossible to tell what else she
is wearing.  She also holds a glass of champagne*

Voice: To the woman who finally realized who truly was the best for her,
in the end.

*Alexa bends down, and the shot widens to show her kissing "The True
Living Legend" Brian J. Blottie on the lips.  Blottie is holding the NACW
World Heavyweight Title over one shoulder, while the other hand holds his
champagne glass aloft.  He is smiling from ear to ear, as Alexa pulls
away, and he gives her a look that says more than words can say about the
relationship he and Alexa have had*

Blottie: And last, but not least, to the man that made this all happen.
He is also not here, though I invited him.  But like President Gottsegen,
his presence is felt by all.  Justin Russell, "The Big Dog", this toast
is for you, and all those men who have helped me along the way to become
the champion we all knew I would become.

*Blottie and the rest of his cohorts tap their glasses together, and then
drink.  Blottie sips his drink, along with Alexa, while Rhodes and The
Flying Scotsman gulp their's down.  Josh Walters watches Blottie
carefully, and begins to sip like him.  Alexa puts her arms around
Blottie, from behind, and rests her chin on his shoulder.  Blottie looks
into the camera, and smiles*

Blottie: Alan, I sat and told you, time and time again, that everyone,
and I meant EVERYONE, was against you.  But did you listen?  No.
Instead, you trusted that no one would get involved.  No one would put
their nose in your business.  And look what you have now.  No wife, no
championship... hell, you don't even have any pride.  You have nothing,
Alan, and the only person you have to blame is yourself.
   Yes, I made up the contract.  Yes, Patrick Gottsegen signed it, and
smiled to himself while doing so.  And yes, Justin Russell was the one
who technically cost you the title.  But you're the one that signed that
contract before reading it through.  You're the one that wanted The Cali
Connection so bad that you would team with a man who wanted something
from you, and would do anything to get it.  You cost yourself the title,
Alan, by being ignorant.  And you cost yourself your marriage, as well...

*Blottie turns his head, and he and Alexa kiss deeply.  After about ten
seconds, Alexa pulls away, a look of lust in her eyes, and she turns to
the camera*

Alexa: Alan, I loved you.  More than life itself.  But wrestling was more
important to you than me.  That damn World Title was more important to
you than me.  And it was proven to me when Brian "piledrove" me.  You
didn't come to see me in the hospital.  You didn't even call.  Brian came
and gave me roses.  He told me, all along, that you were falling out of
love with me.  That you just didn't care anymore.  And he was right.  I
saw that, and now... I realize that the only man who I ever truly want
anymore, in life and in love, is Brian.  He cares about me in a way you
never did, Alan.

Blottie: You lost a beautiful woman, Alan.  But don't worry.  I'll take
good care of her.  And you always have that Furby me and the Brothers
sent you...

*Shot changes to The Blood Brothers, who are at this point devouring the
cavier Blottie had set out on the table to snack on.  The Flying Scotsman
starts talking, his mouth full.  Food flies everywhere as he talks*

The Flying Scotsman: Nope.  He took it from me and crushed it.

Jeremy Rhodes: We even offered him some Singapore whores, but he didn't
want any.  He's in a real foul mood.

*Shot again changes back to "The True Living Legend" Brian J. Blottie.
Blottie chuckles, then shakes his head*

Blottie: Alan is showing why I'm going to win come the pay-per-view.  His
head isn't on winning this belt, it's on tearing me apart.  Let him.  He
can tear me limb from limb, beat me with my own apendages, and then piss
on my torn up body.  All that will do is get him DQ'd, and he'll still
have nothing.  And even if he does concentrate on this belt, and not on
me, he still has little to no chance of beating me.  He's too worn down
from our wars in the past few weeks.  And in a little over a week's time,
I'm going to finish off not just his title run, but his career.  Because
I'm through playing with him, I'm going in for the kill...

*Suddenly the door flies open, and in walks Justin Russell, with purpose.
 Blottie stands up, grabbing a glass of champagne, and holds it out*

Blottie: You made it!  What a surprise!

*Blottie offers the glass to Justin.  Justin takes it, and throws it to
the ground.  You can hear the glass shatter, as Justin gets into
Blottie's face*

Russell: I'm not here to galavant with you and your friends.  I'm here to
remind you that you owe me a title shot...

*Russell looks at Alexa*

Russell: As well as a bit of money, and that me and you have to team up
this Sunday against Alan and a mystery man.  But most of all, I'm just
here to make sure you know that I'm waiting for you, patiently.  And I
WILL take you down.

Blottie: Calm down there, big man.  You'll get your shot AFTER I defend
it at World Tour II.  As for this Sunday... it's me and you.  The two
best the NACW has to offer.  It's most highly touted world champion of
all time... and you!  Soriano, no matter who he brings to the ring with
him, is as good as beaten, as long as we're on the same page.  We are on
the same page, correct?

*Russell just smiles, and walks away, closing the door behind him*

Blottie: Stuck up piece of... anyway.  Back to what I was saying before I
was so rudely interrupted, Alan, my title is not the only thing on the
line at World Tour II.  Because I'm going after your career.  And in
order to end it... well, we'll leave that as a surprise for May 29th.
   Seeing as though I've addressed what I've needed to address, I'm going
to enjoy myself.  Eat some food, drink some wine... do a little eating
and drinking of Alexa, oops!  I mean WITH Alexa.

*Alexa smiles, wickedly, as she squeezes Brian from behind, tightly.
Blottie pats her arm, as a smirk stretches across his face*

Blottie: Guys, lets party like it's... wait, it IS 1999!

*Blottie gives his belt a few pats, picks up another glass of champagne,
turns to the camera, and holds it out in what appears to be a toast*

Blottie: Until next time...

*Scene closes with Blottie sipping the champagne, then kissing Alexa full
on the mouth, letting his tongue linger for a minute as the camera FADES
TO BLACK*
==
==
JASON AND EDDIE DEEGAN

[The scene opens up backstage at a house show for the NACW, while they're
still touring Alaska. "Look at me" by Geri Halliwell can be heard in the
background, as Jeremy Rhodes just defeated VooDoo. The camera is set up
in the locker room areas, pretty deserted at the moment.]

[A door opens, with Jason Deegan sticking his head out through the door.
He calls the camera crews over to him, as they oblige and follow him
through the door of his locker room. There, Jason sits on a counter under
a mirror, and sips a beer, while Eddie Deegan can be heard yelling
obsenities from one of the bathrooms nearby. Jason just laughs, dressed
in his wrestling gear which is a green shirt and jeans.]

Jason: "Eddie's a little busy at the moment. Cold weather and him don't
mix. That's why he moved to West Palm Beach."

[Finally, Eddie comes out, in his wrestling gear, a pair of long black
pants reading "Diablo" down each side. He's carrying a ton of other
clothes, including a winter coat, scarf, hat, mittens, sweatpants, more
sweatpants, and a couple other shirts. Eddie tosses them aside, grabs his
tag team championship belt laying on a table, and puts it around his
waste.]

Eddie: "Who the ____ decided to bring us to ______ Canada?"

Jason: "Alaska."

Eddie: "Same thing."

Jason: "We're on camera."

Eddie: "Sh... crap."

Jason: "Anyhow, in a few minutes, we have a match against the Guapo
twins. That won't take much preparing, though, so we're here with a few
words on the Cali Connection."

Eddie: "Isn't Johnny Coast part of that team?"

Jason: "Yup."

Eddie: "The guy I defeated in mere seconds for the lightweight title?"

Jason: "Yup."

Eddie: "Not to mention Johnny Blaze, Soriano's bitch boy and the man of a
thousand gimmicks?"

Jason: "Yup."

Eddie: "So... what these guys are... is more or less two NACW losers who
banded together to form a pretty successful tag team, correct?"

Jason: "More or less."

Eddie: "Are they doing it Doggy style with two words for ya?"

Jason: "Wrong team of losers who band together to form a decent tag
team."

Eddie: "Oh. Right."

Jason: "Thing that gets me is... Blaze and Coast are two nothings who
formed a team. How on earth do they expect to be any sort of a challenge
to us, two stars who came together to form a team?"

Eddie: "I'm not sure. I mean, we *did* pin the US champion after he had
severe blood loss."

Jason: "Which was totally beautiful."

Eddie: "Which is also why we're the new champs."

Jason: "Well it's about damn time. Honestly, I don't know why we were
ever without them. Someone decided we needed to put over Yaz Rocker and
Damon Harris. Where are those boys now?"

Eddie: "Sucking eggs in a gutter."

Jason: "Oh. Right."

Eddie: "Now, honestly, I'd have to say that the Cali Connection are
worthy of a title shot. Wouldn't you agree, Jason?"

Jason: "Out of all of the other NACW teams, I believe so."

Eddie: "Which is why this Sunday should be fun. Don't get me wrong, I'm
*not* saying Jason and myself won't kick the ever loving crappola out of
the Vans shills. But, at least it'll be somewhat competitive, not the
Guapo Twins."

Jason: "Honestly, though, I'm quite surprised the Cali Connection are
doing so well for themselves. Really, because, Johnny Blaze has been
everyone's bitch since 1962, and Coast... well... the only reason you
ever held any gold was because there was no one else to hold it."

Eddie: "Oh, Jason. You underestimate Coast. I mean, he *did* hang with me
for... uhh... ten seconds."

Ja