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Date Posted: 15:08:15 10/30/02 Wed
Author: ?????
Subject: Coming Back

(On screen we see shots of MCW representatives sitting across a table from another individual. The top of the camera shot cuts off his head, and all we can see is upper torso and shoulders. Over the top of the footage comes the comments of a narrator. To a select few his voice may seem familiar, but still strangely unrecognisable as he starts to speak...)

Voice: So what did I just do? In an instant I made a decision that will change the rest of my life. I made the decision to come back. Was it an easy decision? I had a million and one voices in my head telling me to walk away. Every one with a seemingly different reason for not re-emerging. All adding potency to the cocktail of logic...telling me to step away from that table and turn away. But for that moment in time at least, I made my decision. There is no going back now...there is no tomorrow!

(On screen we zoom in a little closer, and over the shoulder of the thus far unseen individual, we see him glancing over an MCW contract. Finally he picks up a pen, and moves down to sign his name...as the shot cuts to shots of smiling MCW people.
The man hands the contract back to them - it's signed)

Voice: And like that, it was made official. The point of no return had been breached. There ain't no way to stop it, I will return to Midwest Championship Wrestling. A date has even been set. Halloween...October 31st. And you know what else? It's not any kind of return...it's PAY-PER-VIEW! Me...in a Parking Lot Cage match!
But I know what everyone's thinking. The most obvious question - who am I? Whoever the hell I am, I'm already set for a downfall. Whoever I am, the people will want more. I know that full well I will disappoint a whole bunch of people.

The list of potential candidates for my spot has to be flashing across people's minds already. What the hell...I could be one of the huge names from MCW's past. I could be Brick Pittman...I could be John Patrick. Bring it onnnnn I could be Jimmy Wallis!
Big Bad Phil, Twisted Trevor, Demented Dave...the list of names goes on and on...and my name isn't there. My return can be built up to be as huge as MCW wants it to be, but it won't matter a damn come Thursday night when I step out into that parking lot. Name recognition never took me that far in this business before...so I guess now sure as hell ain't the time for it to start.

(On the video the team of MCW officials and the man who's head is still cut off by some cunning (or extremely bad) camera-work leave the table and move through to a specially cleared area for photographs...)

Voice: Just think about that. I have to prepare for the biggest match of my career. I've gotten into the best shape of my life. I've trained, sweated and busted my ass! Then I'm gonna walk out Thursday night and when you hear my name announced, you'll be disappointed. Some will even sit there and think to themselves 'who the f*ck is that?'.
But I'm not bothered about it. The first impression might be important, but on Thursday I night I'll prove beyond question that the last impression can AND IS a LASTing impression.

And this is the point where I'm supposed to talk myself up. I'm supposed to talk a big game. I'm supposed to make myself seem like the man! You people want credentials, then by all means you can have them. You people want cryptic messages that give away my true identity. They're probably dotted all around. But then if my name doesn't mean anything, it's not likely that they're going to impress all that much either!
Does it matter than I'm a former title-belt holder? Probably not. Does it matter that I'm an award winner? Probably not. Does it matter that I've been burnt, battered and bloodied for this place...who hasn't right? Thrown through tables, off ladders...off the roof of an arena. Glass, thumbtacks, barbed wire...explosions. If it hurts I've done it...but so has everyone else here.

(The footage now shows the MCW representatives ushering the new signing out the door, and their bodies behind him hide any distinguishable feature that may lead to his identity...)

Voice: So do you know who I am yet? Better yet, do you care? Whether you give a crap, whether you don't...whether you know who I am, or whether I'm just another mystery guy...it's all pretty irrelevant. Because Midwest Championship Wrestling welcomes me back all the same. I'm coming back, and by the time we're all said and done at Halloween Horror, you will all know my name.
I don't know jack about Deadcell, and I'm not all that keen to learn anything. He doesn't know me, I don't know him. It all seems pretty fair. He probably doesn't give two sh*ts for me...I DEFINITELY don't give two sh*ts for him.

If you're sitting back and thinking I haven't done a swell job of talking myself up...there is one simple reason for it. I don't gotta. I got a big mouth, but for once it's staying firmly in check. On ppv, my actions will speak louder than words...and louder than the noises Deadcell's body makes as it smashes into the cage, and as I throw it around the parking lot to take him out.
Deadcell, I'm not coming back to lose. I'm not coming back to have my big return go up in smoke. It's not your fault you got tossed in my firing line. There's nothing I can do to stop it. I have to kick your ass. I can't even take it easy on you...because I have to make an impact.

Returns are all about impact, and the fact that I won't have a lot of people jacked for my comeback is not going to stop me. I know this place, I know how it works. Frankly I took it for granted before. I slipped out of the spotlight, and I guess it looked like I was never stepping out of the shadows again. Unfortunately for Deadcell, there ain't enough darkness to contain me, nor enough for him to hide in.
The question you people should be asking yourself is not who I am...or will I win or lose. You should be asking yourselves what WON'T I do to win that match, Thursday night. Is Deadcell going through a cage, off a cage...through a wall...who knows! Maybe I'll keep it inside the cage, or maybe I'll walk his ass around the lot sending his head through every car windscreen in sight...just for the hell of it. That my friends, is not a decision...it's a damn certainty!
Deadcell...see ya soon!

(Throughout this last statement the footage on the screen had been replaced with a variety of stillshots racing along at too fast a pace to make anything out. Clearly they're from MCW's past. The images accelerate and accelerate, and as the voice silences for the last time...a blank monotonous beeping like the stopping of a heart moniter is heard, before Linkin Park's 'One Step Closer' and a statement occupies the screen...)

10-31-02

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