Our scene opens what appears to be Tommy Drake's apartment. The camera just peers about as it moves closer to Tommy's door, the bottom of the screen displaying a time.

[9:45 AM]

    Foot steps are heard as Tommy slowly opens the door, peeking out and opening it fully as he's dressed in only some plaid boxers, his fine chest showing, his hair frizzled and he appears quite tired...

Tommy: "Great. Just fucking great...I'm not a morning person as you can clearly see."

    Tommy yawns as it suddenly cuts another scene, Tommy Drake now up and adam. Wait, up and adam? Tommy Drake is not ADAM. Sheez! Who the hell made that phrase? He's sitting at his table eating buttered toast with scrambled eggs sandwich, with a glass of milk.

[10:30 AM]

Tommy: "Ya know all holmes? Well you don't. Let me explain. I try to start my day with a hearty, cholesterol something breakfast. Really get the day started. Or something like that. Folks, welcome to "Life with Drake." A documentary chronicling one day of the superstar known as: me."

    Tommy gives a little grin as he sips his milk and quietly eats. He munches and munches. WE CUT TO THE OUTSIDE! PROMO MAGIC! PROMO MAGIC!

[11:15 AM]

    Tommy's outside, adorned in a plain white T-shirt with a black Nike insignia right where the heart should be, some blue with white stripe gym shorts and his white Reebok casual shoes as he stands by his fabled Silver Lowrider truck. He casually opens the door as the camera man slowly walks over to it and sets the camera down atop the roof. It's focusing on a nearby building as we suddenly hear the engine of the car start up and it begins to move a bit, Tommy laughing. Don't believe me? Here, listen.


    The car finally halts, the camera sliding a little as the camera man grabs it once again and opens the door to the truck, getting in as he points the camera at Tommy who resumes driving, N.E.R.D "Rockstar" playing softly as he takes to the streets.

Tommy: "Today I'm going over to this place, call it The Shack. It's where I work out. Private little place made for Drakezilla and a few others, notably Russ and Jono C when they stop by. Normally I'd be out doing press duty, since that's what I was doing last week but y'know, I've got a match. Not only is this a match, but it's a submission match. Now by this time your thinking "Tommy, why are you stating the obvious oh certified one?" Well it's simple folks. I can't just go blarin certified all time, I have to build it from the start, whether you know it or not. Now this Greer guy, the WWA National Champion? Do I fear him? Well hell yes I do."

[11: 45 AM]

    The truck slowly pulls up to sidewalk, the car stopping as Tommy heaves a small sigh as he turns off his car, slipping the keys out of the ignition as he opens his door and steps out, looking into the alley way and seeing a flight of stairs going downward into darkness. Tommy grabs a black Adidas gym bag out of the flatbed of his truck and looks to the camera, giving a little grin as he starts to walk into the alley way.

Tommy: "That down there is it folks. Where I tend to spend two to three hours a day at. Nothing special until I actually walk in and start working out.

    Tommy gives a little grin as he reaches the stair way and begins to descend down it, showing a semi lightless hallway. He traverses, pulling the cords as he passes the light bulbs, slowly flickering to light as he reaches a lone door door, labeled with a paper sign in big lettering "THE SHACK". The sounds of nothing slowly behind it as Tommy chuckles and peers to the camera.

Tommy: "Man. I pray I'm not the only one who's expecting Jason from Friday the 13th to hop out of this door."

    Tommy, I do too. He chuckles and opens the door, showing... A GIANT MAN EATING WORM! Just kidding folks. More like darkness lightly illuminating a rather large room, possible a miniature complex as Tommy reaches his hand out, and hits the light switch, the overhead lights springing to life to reveal the weight machines, standing out is a Treadmill, pull up bar, two chair for push ups, bench press and some other lower tech devices. Tommy slowly peers about as he takes off his shirt, revealing his sexy chest as he strides quickly over to CD stereo system. We now notice the various speakers surrounding the room and the door to the far back area, labeled "locker room". Tommy presses a few buttons and the room begins to scream with Cake's "The Distance" as Tommy gets to work, starting up the treadmill...we cut to later.

[12:30 PM]

    Tommy's apparently moved onto a push up bar, his face gritted as he does reps, Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger" blaring. Tommy speaks through some grunts and pants.

Tommy: "I don't call this...uh...I a personal testameeent...to myself. I just try to use music as a consuumiiii..ng driving force. Plus I like it."

    Tommy puts the bar up and we cut to something else...man this guy's a maniac isn't he? When's he going to start trash talking Greer too? I mean he's got a HUGE Shot at the WWA National Championship!

[1:26 PM]

    Tommy's doing push ups, using the chairs to place his hands and feet on as he goes deep, Eminem's "Sing for the moment" blaring as Tommy gives  a really driven facial expression, doing this was a bit of difficulty, but doing it.

[2:01 PM]

    We see Tommy jogging up the stairs from the gym, the camera man viewing from outside the alley. Tommy appearing to have showered, wearing a Timberwolves basketball jersey and some denim jean shorts along with his white K-swiss shoes. He quickly runs over, throwing his gym bag into the back of his truck and hops into the driver's seat, driving off...

[4:35 PM]

    Tommy appears on the telephone, pacing back and forth.

Tommy: "No mom, I can't make it to Dad's birthday...Yes mom, I know but I've been booked ok? They want me to go out and kick some ass, and I can't stop that! Nothing can stop that..Mom...mom? Hello? ...damnit!"

    Tommy slams the phone down on the ground as he sighs...panting as he takes a seat in his leather reclining chair..just pondering for a bit...mulling over the apparent fact that the Tommy Drake has to be certifing and death defing on his pap's b-day.

[6:00 PM]

    Tommy's standing tall, his cd player blaring a random, voiceless beat as Tommy bops his head, his eyes wandering as he begins to rap, looking to a note pad.

Tommy: "Been certifin' in '73
              Ain't no stoppin me
              I'm eying your belt Greer.
              Archer's the worst thing to fear.

             Now I know this sound kinda crazy.
             But frankly that's  just too bad.
             T Drake's not like rotten
             Getting Lazy
             He's keepin it real like Strong Mad..."

    Tommy mouths over the beats and sighs, making a few scribbles as he sits down, looking to the camera as he turns down he volume on his stereo, talking to the camera

Tommy: "Isn't easy always being me. T Drake's got his troubles. I mean flowing requires a muse man. I mean just like anything. I mean my match with Twister, c'mon. You all know I could of done so much better! Twister took advantage man, what can I say. Well I can say that it won't happen again, which after giving him a run for his money, it won't. Now onto Greer. Greer's one of the members of Team Danger, and he's the King of Pain. Dude, what's up with all the royal guys in this fed. Got The King of Pain, The King of Titans, The King of Hearts, I mean c'mon! Not only that but I've faced a guy who considered himself "The King" Elvis Presley!"


    Tommy contentedly eats some left over Chinese, fried chicken and rice it appears. And he uses a fork. Since not matter how awesome and "certified" T Drake may be, he alas cannot master the deadly art of the chopstick.


Tommy: "Damn man, I want to come but I have to cut a promo. It's all documentary style. You know how that is right?"

    Tommy is once again, upon the phone, but through the use of promo magic we hear the man on the other line. Ok, it wasn't promo magic, I bugged the phone. But don't tell Tommy.

Russell: "Come on. It's my first night out since I called off the wedding. Jonathan's coming. Guys night out."

Tommy: "I can't Russ. I have to keep focused, I'm not going to get sloppy. I have to remain focused on Greer."

Russell: "Tommy, you can spare a night not sitting at home pacing back and forth, or at the shack working out. Get out a little bit. You gave Twister a run for his money man! What more could you ask for besides losing."

Tommy: "I let the Drakeites down."

Russell: "Fan's have names now?"

    Yeah, didn't you get the memo? We're throwing idea's around.

Russell: "..."

Tommy: "Listen, tomorrow night. You, Jonathan, my 15 year old little brother, whoever. We'll hit the clubs."

Russell: "Fine...just relax about your match. You get too nervous around a Team Danger member he may tak.."

    Beep goes the sound of the cordless phone being hung up! Woot that sounded nifty cool!

[Sometime later...]

    We are now outside of the apartment building which our hero resides as he is there, no less, leaning against the wall as we appear to the end of this promo.

Tommy: "Y'know? One day's worth of filming can't grasp every little dirty secret, or piece of dirty laundry I've forgotten to wash. I mean you guys forgot to film in the guest bedroom. But aside the point? What do I think of this all? Nothing really. I mean I'm followed everyday by camera's, why not put my life on film. I'm sure my mom has the tapes. She's a film fanatic. But that point aside, and many other crucial points that will arise as I'm sure Greer will find a clever way to bring this up somehow, disgracing me. But there is one I do need to clarify, and pardon my lack of cockiness. I'm no PVC. I'm no TTT. I'm not a fly by night man. Not a dime a dozen. I'm unique. I'm Tommy Drake. I'm the prototype golden boy of Cee Cee Dub and I'm damned proud of it. I'm no longer little annoying Scappy Doo in this company. I've made a name buy pushing each and every opponent to their limits. Now I don't want to be remembered as the guy who brought the best out of the guy only to lose in the end. I want to be remembered as the guy who took Greer to his limits and made the world sit in silence as I made him tap. To be remembered as not the new Eric Dane, but as the new Tommy Drake. You doubt my ability? I survived longer in that Battle in Seattle then thirty other men. Thirty! I can't remember how bad you beat me, or even if you were in it. My head's too messed up from that Battle Star guy hitting me."

    Tommy sighs, a bit of a serious tone as he shakes his head, and rolls his neck out. His eyes lightly glowing from the view of the street light in the night.

Tommy: "Greer, come Talent you and I can finally get a formal introduction to one another for the WWA National championship. No doubt about it, this is where it's at. This is my chance, another all or nothing opportunity. I mean I earn my match with Twister, a huge opportunity, and I blew it. I was pinned. Now I'm given one other chance holmes. One shot! I'm not goin to blow it. I say this because hopefully I'm right. Wait, I know I won't blow this chance. I don't win, then I'll accept it Greer. I'll take the pain, I'll take all of it. Hey, maybe I'll get a little recognition as the guy it took you thirty nine minutes and fifty eight seconds to tap. Who knows? I guess I'll tell you something you didn't know. I hate Long john donut pastries. That and simply put, win, lose, or draw, prepare to be certified."

        Fade to Blue!