[ The Scene ]75 SLEEPY HOLLOW LN, Rochester NY

[ Time ] Approx: 5pm Friday; January 27th

The camera zooms in to this late 1960's home with a late 1990's open interior, located in the very desireable, Viennawood tract. As the front doors open we see the first floor, which has a stepdown living room, balconied dining room with a storage closet and mirrors, powder room with pedestal sink, mud room, family room with cathedral ceiling, skylights, fireplace and a pegged tongue groove oak flooring, a multiple use guest/office room and laundry area. The large eat-in kitchen has loads of storage and a large work area that includes a "Jennair" barbeque with tons of recessed lighting.

As the camera follows; we go up now to the second floor which has three large bedrooms that includes a large master suite with a cathedral ceiling, ceiling fan with lights, a HUGE walk-in closet and a sky-lighted bathroom with an eight foot double sink vanity, a large linen closet and laundry chute. Both guest's rooms are painted-walls as well as the ceiling by an artist and have large closets with mirrored doors built-in ana a fan with ceiling lights. The guest's bath includes glass and mirrored tub doors and an oversized vanity sink.

As the camera moves more about this Colonial style home, we go now to the basement. As the camera pans around we take notice to a finished "rec" room. Over to the left we see a cedar closet, a sink with vanity, a hanging-style closet, two shelved storage closets and a second room furnished as an office and a shop area. The small off room hosts a six foot pool table, a work out bench with various weights and barbells and to the corner of this room we see hanging from the ceiling by three colored ropes, a 3 ft long sand-filled punching bag. Sitting in the corner closest to the wall is an old gray whicker chair; resting inside with his feet propped up upon the matching whicker foot stool is Kole Chambers.

Kole is seen sporting off his usual attire of levi demin jeans and a black muscle shirt. He sits with his eyes closed, his UCW Deathmatch Championship Title and UCW Ironmans Title hanging on a rack behind him and his hands above his head with his fingers locked together. The camera zooms in to Kole's well-built physique and olive colored skin, getting an up close of the supersta, Kole opens his eyes, noticing the camera crew.

You just don't know when to quit do you?

Kole leans up, dropping his feet down from the footstool, sitting upright in the gray wicker chair.

Even with my past promotional sets, you people can't seem to get a life of your own. You come into my home, invading all privacy I may or may not be inquiring, looking for some sort of annotation to Shawn Claymore, the "Canvey Crippler".

Kole rolls his eyes. You see, it doesn't trouble me that he has his opinions of me.

Kole slowly leans foward, getting out of the chair. He slowly walks over to the six foot pool table leaning against it with his left hand upon the rack of balls.

Claymore will learn first hand that it does not make a damn bit of difference what your name is, or how much of a “Champion” you think you are, he’ll go down just like the rest of the flukes.

Kole picks up the black eight ball, tossing it up into the air and catching it; he does this for several seconds.

Shawn, no one cares if you were or supposedly are the APWO’s World Champion. You should be calling yourself a “World Chump”.

Kole now snickers to himself.

You up and leave an organization that trusted you to represent them. To represent what the best have accomplished with their guidance, but from what I have seen, You are just a man who couldn’t cut it. Mr. "Oh Great I am a Champion, but I don’t want to fight anymore, so I will leave and have someone else fight for my Title." Claymore. What kind of Champion is that? Kole pauses.

Obviously a blind one. How many matches have I had in my career here in XPWA/APWO? Huh Mr. Claymore? I think you should really start paying attention to the people who you must face in the ring, and not so much that piece of tin, you hold on your lap, but I will let you and your friend Mr. Carnage worry about that. Right now I’m getting ready to grab my books and be "schooled" by the "Legend"

Kole tosses the ball up into the air one last time, catching it and slamming it down upon the center of the table.

Boy, you really have lost your mind. You see… I don't see you doing ANYTHING but running that cock washer you call a mouth.. You call yourself a "lengend"… You want to remain famous here in APWO? Well…let me use that mouth of yours as a punching bag not some ass kissing suction cup.

Kole smiles as he removes his hand from the ball, walking toward the sand bag hanging from the ceiling.

Claymore, the problem I see with you is, you're living your career through history, and although they say "History can repeat itself", the future looks mighty uncertian for you. You see, reputations are built from one's actions and I'm more than sure you'll see what mine have been built upon, as well as I seeing yours.

Kole now walks over toward the sand bag hanging from the three colored ropes. He nudges the bag a few times, making it sway back and forth. The camera moves in a bit, catching a glimpse of the bag's many colored stitchings. Kole steps back a few feet from the bag, glaring upon it and over to the camera once again.

However Mr. Claymore, reputations can seem a bit far fetched at times, but when it's time to place them in that category...who's reputation will it be?

The scene fades with Kole reaching to his back pocket, pulling what appears to be some form of hunting knife from a black leather case, slinging it into the bag and piercing it straight in the center as a sadistic smile forms along his face.