**Scene begins at the LPM 'Crib'. There's beer bottles strewn all over the floor, mixed in with some empty pizza boxes. Basically, the place is a mess. Sitting on one of the couches, with his left leg draped over the arm of the couch, is Josh Styles. He's got a half-empty bottle of Budweiser in his hand, which he periodically swigs back. He's barefoot and has on a pair of faded jeans and a white 'beater'. Moving around off camera view is Tommy Gunn. We can hear him fidgeting with something. He emerges from behind the camera and makes his way over to the couch. He's carrying what appears to be a small camcorder in his right hand. He, like Styles, is dressed as if he just woke up, with nothing but a pair of jeans on. He sits down across from Styles and puts the camcorder up to his eye, focussing on Styles**

Styles: "Would you get that thing outta my face. It's too f**king early for this shit."

**Styles pushes the camcorder away from him, but Gunn insists on video taping him**

Gunn: "Dude, come on. We've got a long day ahead of us so I wanna get this shit over with."

**Styles gives Gunn a dirty look then flips him the bird. Gunn ignores Styles' protests and presses the 'record' button on the camcorder**

Gunn: "So Josh, it looks like we managed to piss off quite a few people already. The REV Pay Per View coming up, and three out of the four promos taped thus far centered around us. Your thoughts on this?"

**Styles gives Gunn another dirty look. He shakes his head at Gunn's attempt at 'reporter style' comments and questions. The camera view switches from the regular TV style shot, to that from the lense of a camcorder, as Styles begins to speak**

Styles: "My thoughts on this? My thoughts are simple. The fact that these punks chose to include us in their promos goes to show that even though we haven't even had a match in this fed yet, we're already the talk of the town. Let's see, so far some mystery freak has issued a challenge to us, Jack Bladz is pissed off because we didn't bother to mention him and the COCKney Crusher as potential threats to us, and those mullet wearin', redneck livin', inbreeds, the Chi-Town Express decide to spend camera time talkin' about how they can take us. The only guy that didn't bother to acknowledge our presense is the man who probably fears us the most."

Styles: "That's right, Todd. I'm talkin' to you. It's pretty interesting that where the LPM is involved, you seem to go out of your way NOT to mention us, almost like you don't wanna rock the boat, eh Todd? I don't blame you for wanting to steer clear of us though. I realize being run out of every fed by us or someone close to us can become quite the embarrassment after a while. But I guess you've just got more important things on your mind right now, ain't that right, Todd."

**Styles chuckles as he shakes his head**

Styles: "No matter. We'll leave you alone...for now. Which leads me to the self proclaimed future tag team champions, the J-C Mafia. Boys, I don't know what you've been smokin', but could you pass some of that shit this way? I think you're brain's stuck on dillusional setting right now. First off, it'll be a miracle if you beat the current champs. Wait a minute, no it won't, because it seems the current champs would rather shut up than nut up. So perhaps your chances of winning those tag belts just went up as long as the champs no show. But then you go on and say...what was your exact quote so I don't get in shit for misquoting you...'but LPM if you think you have the balls I know the Mafia will be more then willing to take you on'...hopefully that's right."

**Styles laughs**

Styles: "Boys, that had to be one of the funniest things I've ever heard in my entire life. Seems your boy Jason Syxx didn't pass on the correct information to you about us. 'Cause if he did, you'd have known that we're more than happy to fight whoever wants a piece of us. We have never and will never back away from a challenge, and son, the tone in your voice indicates that you just dropped down a challenge. One word of advice, to borrow an old cliche, 'don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash'. What that means is now that you've given us a challenge, if and when you take those belts from the Smokey Mountain Wrestlers, rest assured it'll be a temporary title reign, 'cause the REAL Mafia's comin' for them."

**The camera view switches back to normal TV view. Gunn presses 'pause' and lowers the camcorder. He hands it over to Styles, who then raises it to his eye and presses the 'pause' button once more as he focusses in on Gunn. Camera view switches back to camcorder view**

Gunn: "Chi-Town Express, you boys look like a couple of rejects from the movie 'Joe Dirt'. Thought you heard, mullets went out of style around the same time the year 1990 rolled around. I realize as professional wrestlers we're on the road quite a bit and it's tough to get things done, but come on, it takes like thirty minutes at most to stop in and get a decent hair cut. But enough about your redneck 'do'. Let's talk briefly about your ignorance concerning matters that could get you in alot of trouble. Brad...or is it Phillip...I can't tell, you both look like dudes off the Jerry Springer show. Whichever one of you stated that you can take us, boy do you guys sound dumber than you look. You boys should stop chowing down on that roadkill and start listening to that Leigh Ann broad. She might be the only thing that separates you from surviving and being the next victim in a driveby."

**As Gunn is speaking, the 'low battery' light starts to flash. Styles stops the recording and lowers the camera**

Styles: "I thought you changed the batteries in this thing not too long ago."

Gunn: "I did, but then that hot broad who lives across the street started leaving her blinds up when she's in the shower."

Styles: "Seriously? Shit, hope you got that on tape."

Gunn: "Damn right I did."

**The two stand up and walk over to where a bunch of cassettes are sitting on a desk. The camera starts to fade**

****Scene fades out****