Motivation. An incentive, inducement, or motive, especially for an act. Many people in the W3 are motivated by different things, some very strange in my mind. For example, The Punisher, Jason Crow, and The Silencer are all motivated by seeing their own blood trickle down their faces and onto the ground on which they stand. I think that is absurd, but hey, that's them, not the w3 sensation. People like Pete Ebdon, Giovanni Sambora, Colin Ronning, Jay Avirez, and I have something in common; OUR MOTIVATION. The motivation we share is shiny, weighs a hell of a lot when you first get it, and is wanted by everyone in the W3, yes my friends... it's the W3 Platinum title. Now I know I still have bunches to learn from Pete Ebdon, the single-most dominant champion we've ever had. Now with Malik by my side, I get better each and every week, getting new moves and perfecting my old ones. So it will be a matter of time before I rise through the ranks in the W3 and all you guys in the locker rooms can do is pray you don't have me on the card for the week.

Now, the most annoying thing in my life is somebody who doesn't even cut a promo. Marcus Swift, Kenyon Jones, I have had a question that I've been meaning to ask you. What the hell can you do in your spare time besides cut a damn promo?! Jesus it's like talking to a brick wall... the only thing comes back is your fuckin echo. I'm getting sick and tired of people who are like brick walls, that makes it no fun to make fun of them. But no bother, their apparent laziness outside of the ring won't do them any good in the ring, so T.J. Hix and I have these guys toasted, fried, and DEnied.

Now onto my last tidbit of information for you idiots out there who have no lives... is concerning my partner T.J. Hix. T.J., did it all of a sudden strike you that you are too damn good enough to cut a promo? Are you that good Hix? Damn, you sure looked that good last week too. I mean last week I told you to shut up every minute and now this week it's the complete opposite, and a damn shame too. I thought I could trust you to haul a simple, small part of the load but I guess what everyone tells me is true... you can't fill the shoes of Rick Golden, they're just too damn big!

Hix, when I talked to you after the last Flatline went off the air and we both saw the card I looked at you and you blatantly said to me... "You better haul your share of the load bitch, because I am hauling mine." What a complete lie that was Mr. Fuckin Boss. I'm the only one in this tag match hauling my fair share... it's just like I said before, it's no fun talking to a brick wall and that's what you three idiots are doing. But no bother Hix, I'll beat both of them by myself if that's what I have to do. Now let me take you to another fun time of mine, earlier today on the plane…

INTRO

[The scene opens up to an airplane at what looks like to be early evening, around 4:00 P.M. We see many of the flight attendants up walking around checking on the flight passengers seeing if they need anything and we also see the passengers munching on the snack the airline provided them. As we move up beyond the curtain into the first class section, the first row to the left, Yes, I said first ROW... is occupied by the 6'5, 295 pound monster from St. Paul in Rick Golden. To the right, Malik is on the aisle seat and sitting next to him is a white guy trying to act black by rapping out his "tunes". Golden sees that Malik is getting annoyed like hell and he just laughs. But once Golden gets annoyed by this kid annoying Malik all hell starts.]

Rick Golden: Hey kid, how about you go back with your mommy and daddy before I kick your ass back there myself.

Wigger: C'mon bra, I just tryin to make up some ill hits g.

Rick Golden: Malik, translate that for me.

Malik: What that means is he just wants to stay up here and think of some cool music.

Rick Golden: Oh, why didn't you tell me. Anyway I still don't want your scrawny ass up here so get you and your rapping self to the back or I'll introduce you to my kind of music... CHIN MUSIC.

[The kid picks up about a dozen CD's and starts running toward the back almost bumping into the sexiest flight attendant alive. She bends over by Golden so Malik peeks his head out in the aisle way and looks up her skirt smiling.]

Rick Golden: Malik, would you quit looking up that fine lady's skirt!? Jesus, you have one disturbed mind you pervert.

Malik: What are you talkin' about man? I just dropped my quarter and was looking for it. Ah, there it is... [Malik pretends to grab a quarter on the floor and then sits back up straight.]

Rick Golden: I'm sorry about my friend gorgeous, he just is like that. [The flight attendant just walks off shaking her head as Malik and Golden swivel their heads to check out her ass. Once they turn around, Malik starts to whine to Golden.]

Malik: What the hell is wrong with you? I had that bitch in check mode man! I could've closed the deal with her in like ten minutes!

Rick Golden: The only deal you can score like that is with those two fat ladies in the back row of the "Second Class Passengers". They probably had to reserve a whole row for the bastards. Why don't they just listen to the commercials and go to Subway?

Malik: Who the hell cares?! I can score with any chick you can! [Golden drops his sunglasses he's wearing to his nose and gives Malik a long, cold, stare.]

Rick Golden: Kid, you're in Little League... I'm in the Major Leagues. But I can't do all the stuff I used to do now, I'm a happily married man to a wife that can sure suck a di...

Malik: Yeah man, whatever. Just hope when you're eighty she can still do that.

Rick Golden: Yeah, you're a real funny guy Malik for someone who is about to get his ass whooped. I'm just playing Malik, I don't want to kick the greatest agent's ass! Anyway man, how long until we reach... Denver, Colorado?

Malik: You said that as if you don't like the city or something... me? I love it. Hotties in little pink winter snowsuits ready to get banged... oh, back to the subject. Umm... I think about a half and hour we passed over Salt Lake City about twenty minutes ago so we're almost to the border of Utah and Colorado.

Rick Golden: Good, I want to get into Denver, kick some ass, then get the hell out of Denver. Somewhere nearby like a suite or something but NOT DENVER. I hate the Broncos especially.

Malik: I hate the damn Broncos too. Especially with that wannabe John Elway who played for them. That guy was a loser with big teeth.

[As Malik stops talking he drifts off into a doze which makes Golden sigh in relief. Finally some peace and quiet for him. Suddenly, the flight attendant from earlier comes back with a tray of drinks and snacks so Golden flags her down, wanting a beverage and a snack.]

Flight Attendant: May I interest you in something? A coke maybe? And some Chex Mix?

Rick Golden: Whatever you want to give me... hand them over. I'd eat anything right now...

Flight Attendant: On second thought, I can't give you anything... we're fifteen minutes from Denver and you can get something at the airport. They have tons of food places on your way to the front entrance/exit.

Rick Golden: Oh alright... I guess I can wait another twenty minutes or so. [As the flight attendant leaves, she drops a glass on the floor shattering it and even worse, waking up Malik. Golden puts his hand on his head and starts shaking his head as Malik pokes Golden.]

Malik: How long have I been asleep? Two hours maybe?

Rick Golden: Try twenty minutes asshole. Anyway I want you awake so get your bags ready because I'm bolting off this plane to the nearest Subway or low fat restaurant. You know, with a body like this you have to eat right.

Malik: Shit you can search for a Subway all you want I'm stopping at the nearest place available. Plus I have a trick that will get me to the front of the line so I have no worries about getting my food quickly.

P.A.: Please fasten your seatbelts as we prepare to land in approximately one minute.

Rick Golden: Trust me Malik old boy, this city is bad, so thank me later for my warning *laughs*.

[The plane lands and they head to the gate they were assigned to. Golden and Malik wait impatiently as the pilot starts blabbing off. Malik drifts asleep and it takes a Golden punch in the face to wake him up. Malik is rubbing his sore as they say you can leave. Golden and Malik rush out of the airport and down up the connecting bridge. We see the last of these two as they turn the corner, heading for their food places.]

OUTRO

Could Rick Golden be trying to cheat on his wife? What about Hix? Where has he been? Hiding in the shadows like Jones and Swift? Who knows? Only them. What did Golden mean by Denver being a “bad place”. Only time will tell as we continue in the saga of Rick Golden.