This's different. Unique...not happy go lucky free style rapping I'm going to kick your ass scene. This is something deeper, of more meaning. Quietly our camera opens up with a wide screen view of a large Cathedral-esque church, dubbed "St. Paul Church". From the apparent setting we appear to be in the other of the twin cities, St. Paul. Humming softly the sound of a truck begins to pull toward it. It slowly appears upon the camera, a gray low rider as it turns out. The driver is blatantly obvious to those of the keen eye, even if he is wearing a green Bass Pro Shop hat. It's non other then the Certified One himself, Tommy Drake. A man who's been on a bit of a dropping out. His demeanor isn't so much happy... a bit irritated, confused. He quietly sighs as the hum of his V8 engine is killed with the turn of a key. He quietly presses the button upon the buckle of his seat belt as the strap slides up with quick ease and he opens the door, his shoes touching upon the paved street. He steps out and looks about. Tommy's full adorned in a Green "Bass Pro Shop" as mentioned earlier, a non descript grayish t-shirt (with white pieces, similar to a pattern), some Jinco khaki shorts and some nice, white K-Swiss shoes. He looks toward the church, heaving deep with a sigh as he takes off his hat and holds it upon the visor with his left and right hand.

    Tommy: "....Here goes nothing."

        Tommy slowly walked in front of his truck and untoward the church. Upon reaching the long assortment of steps on the fine Minnesota afternoon he looked back at the sun, and up at the large stained glass mural of Jesus on the cross. He jogged up the rest of the way as he slowly opened the door to find....A GIANT MONSTER!!!! Ok, not really. Felt like breaking the stress. He opened the large wooden door and lightly stepped into to the large cathedral, just marveling at the beauty of the walkway to the pier's. Long, elegant, made of some finely finished wood. To each side up ahead of him he saw large stained glass windows, commemorated to various saints among our time. I could go on endlessly of how to describe it, I mean it's a cathedral, so large, powerful, and beautiful. But I need to move this along for Tommy. His eyes seem to focus upon on little area to the far left, beyond the peus. A confessional. Tommy looks about at everything else, the camera following and for a split second  man in a Priest clothes is standing by the confessional, and then he's gone. Tommy rubs his chin in confusion..

    Tommy: "Confusing..."

        You said it! Tommy begins at a steady paced walk down the aisle, shivering a bit. A cold chill running through his spine, yet the temperature of the room was steady, and just fine at that. He quietly heads over to the confessional..gulping as he slowly opens his door, stepping into the fine wood booth, slowly sitting down as he coughs, opening his panel that would let him see of who he speaks to. Quietly he can hear the other door open and he peers in. The man appears middle age, a blonde color of hair that is beginning to thin out and turn gray. His beard lightly trimmed and from what you can see he is a priest but quite boisterous. He coughs as Tommy looks to him.

    Tommy: "Nice day isn't it?"

    Father: "I'd have to agree."

        The Father's voice hints at a bit of an irish descent...

    Father: "You seem new. Not a catholic?"

        Tommy sighs lightly, cradling the brim of his hand in his hands as he speaks.

    Tommy: "Yeah...I know this sounds stupid but I've been too busy for faith."

    Father: "No one's too busy for faith my son. Coming to Church or reading your bible I've learned isn't declared as faith. It's more then that."

        Tommy arches an eyebrow, oddly surprised by this priest's beliefs.

    Tommy: "I thought catholics were more, what's the word I'm looking for?"

    Father: "Bookish?"

    Tommy: "Yeah..."

        The priest nods as an awkward silence befalls them. The holy man breaking it.

    Father: "Well Tommy, I believe you had something you wanted to confess.."

    Tommy: "Yeah. Wait, how did you know my name?'

        Tommy arched an eyebrow, the priest letting out a little chuckle, his smile warm.

    Father: "Consider me a fan."

        Tommy gave a little smile and begun to speak.

    Tommy: "Father, you seem to know about me? Have I become too pridefull, too demanding of things? I mean I lost a match to this guy...whatever the hell his name is, and I just feel, awkward. I mean I put effort into that, and I failed."

    Father: "My son, you shouldn't feel so. Your pride has always been a harmful trait in your character but you've always stood for what you believed in. Coping with fault, it's human. Your not perfect. You can't go undefeated, even if it is in wrestling."

    Tommy: "Well a booker can..."

    Father: "Thomas...please don't interrupt me."

        Tommy eye's went wide, the man's force powerful. Plus rarely was he called Thomas.

    Tommy: "Yes father."

    Father: "No this Too Trancey Twoey almost seems like a mirror of you to me. Replace your enjoyment of rap with trance music and you have his character, what's he's made to be. Now Tommy, did you give everything you had in that match? Did you put in 110 percent?"

        Tommy dwells upon it, and only shakes his head.

    Father: "And why is that?"

        ... Tommy finally replies.

    Tommy: "Because Father I was afraid. Afraid to be humiliated. Afraid to lose those adoring fans that did cheer me each every week, the one's I actively go out to entertain."

    Father: "Then there lies your problem. You must learn to bear through humiliation. Yes, you did lose to TTT. But what makes of it? Yes he gets a spot on the CCW team, but look at yourself Tommy. God has blessed you with the tools. In my opinion his great plan, is for you to entertain. You've found that nook in pro wrestling. You don't have to prove your the best to anyone else. God knows you are one of the best. You should go out there and serve your purpose."

        Tommy rubs his chin, the father's words just so simple yet true...

    Tommy: "To entertain... What about going after belts and such?"

    Father: "Tommy, they are nothing more then mere material items, to show you are the best. Personally, but my opinion is rather biased, I think your destiny is to use those to go beyond what levels you currently are, to reach a wider audience. But in reality I say enjoy them but from what I understand of your business, it will me nothing when your 50 years old and at home with a loving family. But I don't expect to grasp that now Tommy."

        Tommy gives a little grin, his eyes glowing with a refueled drive, feeling motivated by the mans words as he looks up and stares into the peek hole to speak some final words to him.

    Tommy: "Thank you fath.."

        He was gone. Vanished like a ghost, as if he wasn't actually there. Tommy rubbed his chin, just pondering as sits up, pushing the door open, exiting the booth as the sunlight shines beautifully through the stained glass windows. Tommy smiles as he puts his hat back on and quietly walks up the aisle, and slowly opens the wooden doors to step outside, just a grin about him as he takes a seat on the step, just looking about and then to the camera.

    Tommy: "I've been idle too long. Dwelling over what's happened to my career in CCW while TTT's taking my chances and fellows named Wolf are holding my belts. Tommy Drake is back and I don't regret it. When I'm done, no one will forget it."

        Fade to Black