Our scene opens up with a beautiful evening shot of Southern Kansas City, Missouri.  A very urban environment of sorts. The area littered with rocks and buildings of old. Essentially this could be called the "inner city" if it weren't for the fact that it was due south 10 miles from the urban heart of KC. Slowly our camera switches toward a more familiar environment. The camera peers right across the street to Logan Treasure, slowly stepping out of his locally ran gym and pro wrestling training haven, The Treasure Chest as he slowly locks up. Adorned in the Logan Treasure "Shut Up and Wrestle" T-shirt, knee length jean shorts and his polished leather Doc. Martin boots. He quietly walks away toward his 2002 Dodge Ram as he throws the gym bag he clasps tightly in his hands over into the bed of his truck and hops in. The camera getting ever closer as it slowly approaches from the passenger's side. Logan looks up from his cd collection as he pulls out Queens of the Stone Age. He eyes them with a menacing scowl and sneers at them as he slowly turns the ignition key and "Go with the flow" kicks in as he speeds off, dust flying into the camera's view..

    Camera Guy: "Where's he going?"

Fade to Black

Our scene re-opens up inside a local bar and grill. Its barely filled with patrons as two local mean channel surf, watching Fox Sports Net as Johnny Cash's "Hurt" plays on the jukebox. Logan sits quietly alone at his booth as he eyes his watch and looks up, seeing the camera crew up in his face. He growls as he grabs his nearby Sam Adams and takes a light swig before slapping the camera aside as he stands up, very close.

    Logan: "Yet again you just chose such a perfect time to cut a promo with me don't you? Let me guess, next your going to bring in Jeff to interview me aren't you while I'm waiting for my kin to show up?"

As if upon cue TWF Reporter Jeff Johnson steps into the bar, staring about as he eyes his watch and talks to the camera crew briefly, eyeing Logan with a scowl. Logan mutters under his breath "great"

    Jeff: "Sorry I'm late. Got caught up in traffic."

Logan takes a seat, obviously displeased in his booth. He beckons a waiter with a mere motion of his hand as he orders.

    Waiter: "Ready to or..."

    Logan: "No, I'm not. Get him a Budweiser. Make it snappy."

The bartender merely nods as Jeff Johnson takes a seat opposite of Logan. Jeff's dressed in the usual TWF staff member attire. A casual black "TWF" T-shirt, some khaki's and fairly nice slip on dress shoes. He coughs as he pulls out a clipboard of notes and questions as the camera finds it's right view point, staring directly at the left side of Logan and right side of Jeff. Logan pops his knuckles idly as Jeff gulps and begins to speak.

    Jeff: "Nice of you to take me to din..."

    Logan: "If you speak one more time without asking me a question about me and not about what and who I'm eating with tonight then I will not hold myself back from making sure you can never walk again."

Jeff jumps in fright. Logan's face very serious as he bends over, his elbows resting upon the table as he stares at Jeff. Jeff gulps as Logan pops his neck.

    Logan: "Understand me?"

Jeff just slowly nods his head. Logan's eyes fill up with irritation as he leans over and scream in Jeff's face.


    Jeff: "YES!...Let just get on with this."

Logan nods as he lays back. The waiter sets down the budweiser for Jeff as Logan stares at the camera and Jeff with such an animosity. Jeff is slowly to finally speak again.

    Jeff: "Last Sunday you did almost exactly what you said you were going out to do and is beat Clayborne for the title. You seemed to push him to his brink, and surely yours as well. What does Logan do now?"

    Logan: "You obviously were watching a different match Jeff. All of Kansas City knows that Clayborne tried but did not even close to pushing me to my limits. That was child's play to me. A game. Clayborne was struggling to keep up with that. Look at him and then look at me. Who's arm is still soar? Who is counting their lucky stars that they barely, just barely brought that title back home with him? The answer's Todd. Todd simply put as I said earlier on the Lowdown and to you. This is by no means over. I will not rest until you are dealt with. As I watch you sit down with Duncan as I sit down with Jeff I just think to myself not when, not where, but how I will put an end to your North American Title reign. So many ways Todd. Their are just so many ways each as appealing as the other but one sticks out to me. And that is to humiliate you. You see in our industry I'm considered "below your league" when you know damn well after Rising I'm not below you, I'm above. You see imagine this. The first of many epic battles between Mr. Money and The Systematic Assassin has been fought. But what about the others? What about our second, encounter or our third. As you speak of surpassing your great match with Blazer I speak of raising the bar between us Todd."

    Jeff: "How do you plan to raise the bar with Todd? A gimmick match? A hell in the cell, cage or ladder match?"

    Logan: "Child's play. Real men wrestle on the mat. Not in cages. Cages are for the savage, the animals. Ladders are merely figurative, they serve the one purpose of helping end the victor and the fallen's career. I'm not against ladder matches, I just had something with more meaning in mind. Clayborne, as of today in this fine bar I challenge you to a series of three for the North American title. The first to get two wins over the other is the North American champion. Hell, I'll give you the advantage. I'll let you keep that win over me Sunday. Puts me at the disadvantage. Just how I like. Beat you twice in a row, just to show how much I've been holding back because I'm afraid I might put you too much to shame. You can step up, and accept it. And don't worry, I know you will. Your just a sucker for a challenge. That's admirable. Won't back down. Fight for what's right. Real nice. But look at this way. What happens with the legend's status is tainted with two tap out losses to Logan Treasure? You can obviously attempt to give chase to me, but that doubt of losing again will linger in your mind. What if I lose again? What if I can't beat him? Or you could just as easily twiddle your thumbs and go chase after Somers for the World Title. Attempt to show your superiority with losing the North American. Go ahead, attempt to scrap any credible meaning out of the belt since Nelson was forced to vacate it. I'm sure Mr. Money would be up to that challenge.

Logan grabs his Sam Adams, the cold condensation slowly dripping down the bottle and onto the table counter as he takes a small swig and sets it down, gulping it down as Jeff moves onto the next question.

    Jeff: "This week in a one on one confrontation you face the legendary Marky Chang of Big Sky fame. He's had some choice words of you saying that he's never even heard of you and plans to use to get back on top. What do you think about that?'

Logan takes a sip, giving Jeff that look as of "yeah dumb shit, I already knew that" as he stares to Jeff, responding. His tone lighter then before, a little less serious.

    Logan: "And so at last I get to meet Marky Chang and his assortment of music. Chang back in a day when I was talent scout for some little indy companies and I turned onto watch you show your skills and back then I was mildly impressed. Your were dubbed a god among ants. A titan if you will. But you see Chang you obviously haven't taken a very good look in the mirror. The great Chang is nothing more then a meaningless wrestler with dreams of glory again. You know what I spoke of. You talked so big about you destroying Somers who rested my Generation title upon his shoulder. And you failed twice. Hell he gave it to you only for you to lose it the next week to some no name face only to disappear for weeks are you trained in your Nova Scotia home. Afraid of what's become of the man who brought the music. Who made each and every opponent he faced his bitch. Chang, I really don't care what say about your physical condition, or even how your fore see my defeat. You see after listening to your two faced bullshit I've come to a realization Marky Chang in it's all is lost. One week cheered, one week booed. One week you through a number one contendership match, the next get beaten by a man I've outmatched. Your scared Chang and I can see it in your eye. Your talk is big and it is good, I can give you that. But when's the last time you've successfully delivered in the ring? The last time actually beat someone and it meant something to you Chang. Don't bother going back to the rankings and comparing your win's and losses to mine because frankly it doesn't matter. Chang's lost the music and all he has left is a gimmick being re-hashed in Tyler Wells. So to answer your question bluntly Jeff, I think Chang I really don't care because I know at the stage he's at he can't match the assassin. He can't even hang with him."

Logan quietly sat back into the comfy booth, taking another quick sip of his Sam Adams as he peered calm, if not intense as Logan usually is. Jeff takes a few moments to respond, writing a note or two down.

    Jeff: "Seeing as you answered all the rest of my questions in swift blow do you have any closing comments Logan?"

    Logan: "As a matter of fact I do tool."

Jeff sneers at Logan as he merely grins at him, enjoying that pissed of glance.

    Logan: "Marky ever since your TWF incarnation you've been promising left and right with those cocky grins and smiles that you'll make them "feel the music". But what music Marky? You continue to rant about bringing all you've got, the matches being short yet week in and week out it turns out to be so much more then you can bare. You promise to make me feel the music. Yet you made that promise to Somers and look what happened. You made that promise to Blazer, and look what happened. You made that promise to Renegade and you chicken out all because your trying to be friends with Brujah. Chang, what you fail to realize is that on Sunday as you ready your music that there is no music. The music is gone. Its dead. I died along time ago when its front man realized he couldn't keep the pressure anymore. Then you'll know. The you'll know that you should of taken to heart Logan's words. As you feel yourself seeping with pain as your locked in the Finishing Touch. Then you realize that you should of just shut up and wrestled.

Fade To Black