"Rock the Cradle of Love... Rock the Cradle of Love..."

"Yes, the Cradle of Love... don't Rock Easy."

"And neither do I..."

[The camera fades in upon a can of Sudweiser... the alcoholic contents dripping out from within, forming a small pool around the aluminum container's underside. The liquid sticks to the wooden table below like a squirrel to a clam. ... Or would that be, like a walrus to a nut? Whatever.]

[Suddenly, and without warning, as well as from out of the blue and other redundant phrases that mean just about the same damn thing, a hand reaches out from off camera... a chubby hand, with chubby fingers, obviously belonging to a chubby arm... attached to what could only be a chubby being, who may or may not be addicted to masturbation - ]

Jack Hoff: HEY!!!

[What is it THIS time?]

Jack Hoff: What's with all the references to me being chubby? I'm not that chubby... I'm just big boned.

[ ... Jack, ]

Jack Hoff: Who's this 'Jack' you speak of? Does he ALSO work for AWE? Because last time I checked the mirror... the image starin' back was a whole lot different than that of some jack off named... uh... Jack Hoff. Quoth the Ostrich - Drew Barrymore!

[The camera pans over from the now empty coffee table {well, aside from the heaps and heaps of garbage piled randomly upon it}, to... oh dear lord. We now find Jack, cranium covered by a ragged, brown wig with twigs and leaves sticking out here and there... His usual white wifebeater has been replaced with a stained, black t-shirt, with the black and white image of an ostrich emblazoned across the front. Because when you think of "cunning bird of prey", you IMMEDIATELY envision a big, dopey, clumsy oaf who constantly sticks his head in the dirt... Fits Jack to a tee, actually... He sits upon the torn, beaten surface of his living room sofa... his legs adorned in ripped jean shorts. And around his waist, tied in a knot, is a long-sleeve, flannel shirt. And if it can tie around HIS waist, it must have some DAMN long sleeves... His face is hidden behind the same bandanna with eyeholes cut through that he wore in his first appearance...]

Jack Hoff: First... FIRST APPEARANCE?! WHAT first appearance? The man you see before you... is a man never before seen on AWE airwaves. A man... but not just a man. A bird of vengeance... with blood on its beak, and hate on... its, uh... feathers... Or something. I am... OSTRICH!

[Jack takes a swig from his can of Suds... downing the entire contents, before crushing the can in his bare fist, and tossing the remnants behind him. He stares into the camera's lens with a look of stern concentration. Or is it just constipation?]

Jack Hoff: We stand in a vaccum of bleak and harmonious indifference. Immune to the deafening turbulance of a harrowing cloud of tumultous ragu. THESE... these, are the Days of Our Lives. As the World Turns, we seek a Guiding Light... but do we find one? Somebody once told me, the world is gonna roll me... I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed. She was looking kind of dumb wih her finger and her thumb in the shape of an 'L' on her forehead. Well, the years start coming... and they don't stop coming. Back to the rule and I hit the ground running. Didn't make sense not to live for fun... Your brain gets smart, but your head gets dumb. So much to do, so much to see... so what's wrong with taking the back streets? You'll never know if you don't go... You'll never shine if you don't glow. Hey now, you're an All-Star, get your game on, and go play. Hey now, you're a Rock Star, get the show on... and get paid. And all that glitters? It's gold.

Jack Hoff: Only shooting stars can break the mold.

[... What in the lime green HELL was THAT?]

Jack Hoff: It was the resonating words from within the deepest, darkest sanctum of my cold, black heart... A few morsels of wisdom from an otherwise downtrodden soul, shredded to pieces by the unforgiving grasp of this world's deadly talons. A stillness in a -

[Actually, I'm pretty sure it was just the first verse to Smash Mouth's "All Star"...]

Jack Hoff: I was born into a world of hatred... Not a single person has bore forgiveness... remorse... mercy. This world is a gargantuan cataclysm of preordinant judgementality of fiery damnation... risen from a kaleidescope of torment and unbridled colgate.

[... Colgate? As in the toothpaste? ... Jack, are you even TRYING to make sense?]

Jack Hoff: Is it I who doth not make sense... are thee that maketh too MUCH?

[Oh come ON now! Raven doesn't even USE words like 'doth' and 'thee'! You're obviously just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks!]

Jack Hoff: And you got a problem with that?

[Well... not really. I get paid either way... But couldn't you atleast try and address your opponent?]

Jack Hoff: Opponent? I don't have an opponent! For I am OSTRICH! Quoth the Ostrich - Michael Moore!!!

[Yeah... what was I thinking. You don't have a snowball's chance in HELL of winning your match... Hell, even if Ross hadn't made a promo, you would have been down on the mat in like, what, one... two minutes tops?]

Jack Hoff: DAMMIT! Enough's enough, and it's time for a change!

[Jack rips off the dirty wig and flings it to the even dirtier trailer floor. His bald dome shines in the light like a... a... really, bright... shiny thing.]

Jack Hoff: Narrator Person... the time is Upon_Us. I told the boys in the back... I told the corporate suits... I told the fans... I told the mailman... I told my wife at 4:30 in the morning when she was trying to sleep... I even told some homeless bum I met digging through our dumpster! I told them all, I told the WORLD... Plus half of Neptune and parts of Saturn... that the reason I, Jack... er, I mean, WHOEVER I may be... was coming to AWE... was to save it. Save it from those who would threaten it. For I am the True Savior... and the guy with ALLLLL the Stroke around HERE! And at Spectacle... the very FIRST Spectacle... AWE's Personal Hero will begin his journey... to fulfill his destiny.

[Or, more than likely, you're just going to end up making a giant ass of yourself...]

Jack Hoff: WHO ASKED YOU?! How are you SO damn certain I'm gonna lose?

[Well, it just appears to me like... well, for one thing, Ross trains. You... don't.]

Jack Hoff: I TRAIN! I train plenty!

[... When?]

Jack Hoff: All the time! Hell, I'm training right now!

[...]

Jack Hoff: Wait... I mean sittin' on my ass. I always get 'training' and 'sittin' on my ass doin' nothing' mixed up. But hey, they're close enough.

[... And for another thing, Ross has... well, he's actually been in a match before. He's a TEN TIME World Champion for Gilbert Goddfrey's sake! While you... you'd be lucky if you could last more than five minutes in the ring with Earl Hebner!]

Jack Hoff: Narrator, do you know how much this match MEANS to me? Do you know how much this match means to the wrestling world as a whole? It signifies the starting point in my quest. A quest to save AWE... and the AWE World Title. Because lemme tell ya somethin', bud, if any of those other two bit hack jobs in the Dead End Tournament end up with the belt? It'll be this company's DEATH KNELL. There's no fuggin' chance AWE could survive if the one and only handsome, muscular, athletic, debonair, and without a doubt GOD-Like specimen on the roster didn't have the big gold strap around his waist. And baby, you're LOOKIN' at that specimen!

[Well, I may be looking at a specimen... but he's certainly not "God-like". Fat... bald... hairy? Sure. But God-like? Maybe if you're talking in the way that "We're all God's creatures", because you sure as hell ARE a creature... of SOME sort.]

Jack Hoff: SHUT UP! Shut up, shut up, SHUT -

Voice: Why don't YOU shut up, before I have to go in there and stuff my foot down yer cotton-pickin' throat?!

Jack Hoff: WOMAN! You shut your damn trap before I haffta go in there and open up a can of the whoop the ass!

Jack Hoff's Wife: Oh, stop rippin' off material from that Italian guy! Can't you ever think of something original for once?!

Jack Hoff: You want original? I'll SHOW you original! How 'bout I take that battery-operated "toy" you like tah stick in yer Hoo-Ha and smash it under a few tons of cement BRICKS?!

Jack Hoff's Wife: YOU WOULDN'T DARE!!!

Jack Hoff: Oh-ho yes I would!

Jack Hoff's Wife: Atleast that thing gives me more pleasure than you ever could... you with yer shriveled up ol' toothpick!

Jack Hoff: THAT'S IT! I'm taking the camera outside, cuz it's CLOBBERIN' TIME!!!

[Jack picks up the camera, and storms into the bedroom, hurriedly grabbing his wife's personal phallic device, as she screams at him to put it down... Jack not budging an inch in his determined walk to the outside, device in towe...]

__________________________________

- Tuesday January 15th, 2008 / 11:47pm -

- Location: Parts Unknown, Oklahoma / Hoff House / Front Lawn -

[Jack is now outside, in a yard surrounded by broken down cars and trucks... rusted paint, missing wheels... and not a single working vehicle in sight. Jack grips the device, before resting it on the driveway... and picking up a cement brick. Still clad in the torn shorts and black Ostrich tee, as well as the ever present bandanna, Jack rolls the brick around in his hand... He speaks, with his gaze set squarely on the device.]

Jack Hoff: Ross... {looks up toward the camera... with a bit of a smile playing at his lips} Can I call ya Jim?

Jack Hoff: Standing across from me at the first EVER Spectacle... will be yourself. An underdog, some may call you. To me... you're more than just an underdog. Cuz' bucko... if you hadn't realized it yet, I am the present... the future. The hero... the savior. I am the Alpha, and the Omega. I am the Truth... and the Lie. I am the one man franchise... and not a single, solitary, soul yet knows the face which lies behind this mask!

[... Jack, why would you even be addressing Ross Goddfred, Jack Hoff's opponent... if you weren't Jack Hoff? It's OBVIOUS Jack, just... just let it go.]

Jack Hoff: AHEM... Ross. Many people love underdog stories... they love cheering on those that are looked at as natural losers. Born to take the fall, and when they pull out that rare victory, they're perceived to be somewhat of a 'hero'. But ya wanna know the Truth, Rossy-boy? Every DOG has his day... Anyone can win, any day, any where, any time. Against ANYone. BUT... when that same person constantly proves to be superior... better than all the rest, and above the pack? THEN, and only then, do you have yourself a real life, bonified hero.

Jack Hoff: And the man you're lookin' at right now? Well, unless you're deaf, dumb, AND blind, you'd have come to the realization by now, that the ONLY hero present on the AWE roster, IS that man. It's the same man who's proved, time and again, that without a shadow of a doubt, he is just THAT... damn... ok. And it's the same man that, come the 28th, is gonna bring your dreams of glory crashing to a halt... for ON that day, the Hoff takes care of the first roadblock in his path... to immortality.

Jack Hoff: You may have the muscles, and the looks, and the 'not being a fat, lazy bastard without a shred of dignity' -edness. But what do I have? What do I have, Ross? I'll TELL you what I have!!!

[Suddenly, Jack drops the cement brick directly on the electric device... which instantly shatters into hundreds of pieces.]

Jack Hoff: I... have a broken dildo. And buddy-boy, in this day and age, if that don't account for somethin'... I sure as hell don't know what does.

[Jack brushes the bits and pieces of plastic and whatnot from the pavement, before heading back to the trailer. Jack leans against the trailer when he gets there {geez, running out of breath simply by walking across the front lawn... a sure sign you're in need of a diet}. Jack gasps for a handful of minutes, before addressing the camera...]

Jack Hoff: Well, Mr. Boxer... Mr. "Dark Knight". You may be in great shape, I'll give ya that... *pant, pant* ... Good grief, gotta lay off-ah them triple decker salami sandwiches with a side of pure lard... atleast for a week or so. *sigh* Anyway, you may be in slightly better shape than me, but when you start braggin' about street fightin'? Buddy, you must not know who you're talking to! I was MADE for street fights! ... Mainly because I know less ACTUAL wrestling maneuvres than either John Cena OR Randy Orton... Hell, even Hulk Hogan himself has a more extensive arsenal than I do. But when it comes to senselessly beating an opponent over the head with trash can lids and 2x4's? That's where I shine!

Jack Hoff: I'm a brawler by heart, so any crummy ol' streetfighter ain't gonna phase me a bit. But I've also been studying wrasslin' tapes all my life, and even though I may not know any actual holds or nothin', I know enough famous finishers and trademark moves to put Eugene to SHAME! That's why, above all other reasons, I'm destined to be this federation's "Knight" in shining armor. It's because I know the game inside... and out. And I know exactly what it takes to succeed. It takes fancy finishers, catchy... uh, catchphrases. And a massive, backstage, political ego! All three of these things, put together, are what make me, Jack Hoff... WHO IS NOT ME!!!... They are what make me, The Unknown Savior of AWE, the... well, Savior of AWE. And Rossy-ol'boy, ol' buddy, ol' PAL... it's what makes me, in the end... simply put...

"Better ... Than ... You."