Jed Davis

((The chair flew across the room. Jed Davis had been convicted lots of times, but nobody...nobody had convicted him of being a "Good" Loser. Letting out a roar of frustration, Davis found his hand going through the lunch table in front of him; it came out more red than his face was when he finally accepted the fact that he had lost. With no one (fortunately) to take his anger out on, the room caught the brunt of the Rage-induced assault.))

{JED DAVIS} - SONUVABITCH!

((Jed took the Clothes Rod in the locker and proceeded to slam it repeatedly against the wall, chipping off several paint jobs and wounding the concrete and drywall beneath it. The brutal room-directed assault went on for another 10 minutes. The Alcatraz-Escapee began to feel his rage ebbing out of him. The anger flowed from his body. And then...))

{VOICE } - I hate to sound Obi-Wan Kenobi-ish but... "Don't let your emotions get the best of you..."

((Jed wheeled around and threw the rod at the door with such a force that it put a sizable dent in the hollow metal door. He missed as he saw who the intruder was in the corner.]]

{JED DAVIS} - You asshole. What have you gotten me into? Do you know how many people looked happy after that match? That combined with my loss really isn't putting me in the mood for old movie references. What do you want.

{VOICE} - I am going to help you focus that rage into Khalil Johnson. Maybe not just beating him.

{JED DAVIS} - Crippling him? Maiming him? I need to do that to someone...I don't feel like waiting until Sunday...and since you're here...

{VOICE} - Calm down there. Listen to my plans. Late Nite won't be here to help for a while. For now, it's just you and me. But maybe that can change...

((Davis listened to the plans. After a few minutes of letting the information sink in and contemplating the right response, he came up with it...]]

{JED DAVIS} - Do you know what the hell you're doing?

{VOICE} - I didn't survive in this fed for not knowing what I was doing.

{JED DAVIS} - Look at you now.

{VOICE} - What? I'm not going out there getting myself beat.

{JED DAVIS} - Shut up.

{VOICE} - I'm not sure you want me to do that. I'll help you get the respect you deserve. You just need to take my advice. Not necessarily do what I tell you. But take the advice I give.

{JED DAVIS} - I could just beat your head in with my fists, not give it a second thought and move on with my already miserable life.

{VOICE} - Touche. But...I'm sure I could help you be able to do that...and get away with it. You see, the L.E.O.'s don't touch the really famous people. The ones that are regarded as royalty. Your history could be as good as non-existant, only if you let me help you.

{JED DAVIS} - Help. Ha. I'll let you know if I need it after Sunday. For now, you being entertaining is good enough to keep me from throwing this lighter into your damned hair-gelled hair.

{VOICE} - You forget...you got out, and you survived because of me.

{JED DAVIS} - Fuck you, I survived on my own, just like I'll survive this Sunday with Khalil. Watch. I will beat him. And then, you can go home to your shabby little house.

{VOICE} - Have it your way. I'll be waiting for you in your locker room after your match.

{JED DAVIS} - Go ahead. I'll walk in with a steak knife. Business end at your throat. Get out.

((The stranger left the room. Davis looked at the only thing in his room still in tact: The mirror. With a look of determination as the last thing that crossed his face, Jed threw a left cross at it which imprinted a bloody fist print on the cracked glass.]]

Chosen Ring Attire	Black A-Shirt, Black Leather pants (jacked from Late Nite's Closet)
Final Thoughts	I will Earn My respect. I will Defeat Khalil Johnson this Sunday.
Number of Victims	A soon to be replaced Zero.

Next Opponent	Previous Match	Win/Loss/Draw
Khalil Johnson	Loss to Cortez Prodigy	0-1-0