Toronto, the city many foreigners mistake as Canada's capitol. It stands as a symbol of ethnic diversity. There's a China town, an Italian district and a Polish community. Toronto is, in it's self, a culture. People enter this city knowing that they can find a place where they fit in, where they will be welcomed as a member of the community. In the buisness community it stands as a symbol of power. It houses a stockmarket as well as the head offices of several banks and many multinational corporations. In the sports world it is home to a baseball, football, hockey, basketball and lacrosse team. In the movie industry Toronto has produced such stars as David James Elliot, Christopher Plummer and Michael Ironside, among others. It's home to several wrestlers, directors and prominent world figures.

On June 9th Toronto, and the Air Canada Center, will host CWF Bloodbath. It promises to be a night that won't disappoint.

As much as Shane would hate to admit it there is some truth in Brandon's words. Blood has always been what ignites his anger. It's the ultimate sacrifice. To some it comes naturally. Hardcore wrestlers shed it like an iguana sheds it's skin. Most wrestlers don't go into a match intending to bleed. Sure, it boosts raitings a little and adds another dimension to a match but in most cases bleeding is unintentional. That is until a "first blood match" where the point is to make your opponent bleed.

Shane sits in an RCMP station. He's dressed in a pair of Doc Martin boots and jeans. He wears a Cleveland Indians baseball jersey and a backwards Cleveland Indians hat. The chair he's occupying is of simple, wooden, design. In front of Shane is a desk. On the desk is a name plaque that reads Lt. Const. James Andrews. It's obvious that Andrews desk is kept meticulous. There isn't a pen of paper clip that sits out of place. Lt. Const. Andrews sits in the chair behind the desk. He cradles a phone between his ear and shoulder as he scribbles broken sentences down on a note pad. After a few moments he thanks who he's talking to and hangs up. Andrews takes a look at what he's written on the note pad, then looks up at Shane.

Andrews: I'm sorry Mr. Jackson, but we don't have any new information for you.

Shane: What the HELL do you mean?

Andrews: They said that once a unit became free they would send them right over. Other than that I don't have anything else to tell you.

Shane: So I'm just supposed to sit here, in Toronto, and wait for that bastard to break into my house and go after my family?!?

Andrews: Yes, now if you don't mind there are a couple of jelly donuts that need eating and seeing as how I have such a healthy apetite....

Shane stands up from his chair.

Shane: Yeah, good idea! Don't want those donuts to go stale, do we? It would be a shame for one of those pastries to find it's way into the trash! You go and stuff yourself, go on, go ahead! If I find out that Travis Smith has done ANYTHING to my family you can bet I'm going to be back here to visit the same fate on you!

Andrews: Are you threatening me Mr. Jackson?

Shane: Why? Would arresting me take a few precious minutes away from gorging yourself! Huh?

Andrews: Well...

Shane doesn't even wait for the Lt. Const. to finish his sentence. He picks up the phone from the desk and pitches it across the room toward the coffee kiosk on the far side. Several officer who are gathered around the kiosk dive out of the way as the phone crashes into one of the glass coffee pots. In an explosion of glass the pot bursts. Unfortunately, for the police officers, much of the glass and coffee land in the fresh box of donuts. Every police officer in the room turns and looks at Shane.

Andrews: I've tried to be patient with you Mr. Jackson, but now you've crossed the line. That WAS a fresh box of donuts that you just ruined!

Shane: SHUT UP! I don't care! You get to work and find out what's happening to my family, or else your going to be wondering what'll be happening to yours.

Andrews stares at Shane. He's dumbstruck at the fact that a civilian would talk to him like this. Shane slowly turns around and walks out of the RCMP station leaving Andrews to clean up the soggy jelly donuts.

That night, in an attempt to calm himself and put the days events beind him, Shane goes to a baseball diamond. Like most ball fields it's empty at 11 o'clock at night. Huge staduim lights illuminate the field like it's daytime. It's so bright you can stand at home plate and read the grafitti written on the back walls of the outfield. At a single glance you can tell this place has history. It has the look. Wooden outfield walls, chainlink backguard, rough, powdery, chalk lines. It's the image of a baseball diamond that everyone wishes they could play in. It's the type of field where the old players became great, and where the players of today grew up. It's simply.....classic.

Shane stands on home plate. Gripped tightly in his hands is a wooden Louieville Slugger. Standing on the mound is a pitching machine that Shane rented earlier in the day. Running from the machine is a chord. At the end of the chord, next to Shane's foreward foot, is a small peddle. Every time Shane wants the machine to pitch he touches the peddle, five seconds later a ball is fired from the machine. Standing in the right side batter's box Shane prepares. He steps on the peddle. He tightens his grip on the bat, and lifts it slightly from his shoulder. Shane takes a breath and holds it.

The ball is fired.

Shane swings his hips a split second before he swings the bat. As the ball connects with the end of the bat Shane releases his breath. Then there's that sound. It's that crack that everyone loves hearing. It's the noise of baseball. The ball flies from the end of Shane's bat. He watches the ball sail deep into the outfield. Seconds later it hits the ground with a distant thump.

Shane: If there was anything in the world I could be, other than a wrestler, it would be a baseball player. I know it's the same dream that nearly every kid in America has, but there's a reason for it. It's simple and fun. You can pick up the basics in an hour and spend the rest of your life loving it.

Shane resets himself in the batter's box.

Shane: You've been thinking about my blood haven't you Brandon? You've been thinking about MY blood on your hands. You want to see what I'm made of. If I'm any better than you. If my blood is brighter. Don't count yourself so lucky. You want the match of a life time? I'll give it to you. You want someone to bleed? They will. Just be aware that when I step into that ring, with you, there's already going to be blood on my hands, what's a little more?

Shane steps on the pedal, signaling for another ball. A handfull of seconds later another ball is fired across the plate. Shane catches a piece of the ball and hits wild one that takes a large bounce into left field. Everything fades as Shane resets himself in the batter's box.