(Handler's Note: The following is a video replay of the events involving Chris Davison and Jonathan Storm. Chris is NOT a guest in the rp, as the fact that this is merely a video replay. Thanks...JDM)

"Psychic spies from China
Try to steal your mind elation
Little girls from Sweden
Dream of silver screen quotations
And if you want these kind of dreams
Its Californication."

Storm: Two men with nothing to lose step into the ring on Saturday. Two men who have been stepped on, passed over, and hidden in shadows finally step up to the plate. One of them has been there before, but nobody noticed or cared. The other one gets his first shot. Who can handle this pressure? Is it the one with grace, poise, and ability? Or is it Chris Davison, who's thinking so clearly, you may be able to make out the veins in his forehead? Who wants this more? Who NEEDS this more?

Chris Davison: Storm, come this Suicide, you will be the example that I make, the message that I send to the rest of the Inner Circle. When you're lying on the mat, bloody, and I hold the title over your non-moving form... be sure to remember that moment.

And when you do, tell the rest of your friends exactly what to expect.

"It’s the edge of the world
And all of western civilization
The sun may rise in the east
At least it settles in a final location
It’s understood that Hollywood
Sells Californication."

Storm: The point I'm trying to make is simple, Chris...even for you to grasp. You're constantly trying to make yourself into somebody you aren't. You refuse to work with the cards god has given you. Take a look at the mirrors that surround me. Each one of them projects an image of myself. And no matter how distorted they may be...they're still me. They reflect what I truly am. A misfit. A born-champion. And most of all...a leader of men. If you were in my position, the mirrors would reflect none of those things...because they only work with what you give them. At best, you could hope for these mirrors to reflect a perennial midcarder, who gets an occasional shot at the big time...but doesn't have what it takes to come through.

Chris Davison:And then.... there was two. He and I. Forget the illusions, they'll play no part in Saturday's match. Forget it all, because it can't save you. I don't fear you, Storm. You're hardly more than smoke and mirrors.

*Cut to the shot of Storm hitting The Bittersweet Symphony to win the Canadian Title at Holiday Hangover. Then switch to a shot of Davison holding the belt over his head after defeating Chris Styles.*

Davison...Storm. Two men...two similar dreams...who can overcome it all?

Storm: You may claim that you want this more than I do, but deep inside, you know you're wrong. When someone is willing to go to their limits and back, that's a start. When someone is willing to put their health on the line, then you're getting somewhere. When someone's willing to risk their career, then you get even warmer...only when someone is willing to put up their very existance, will they truely begin to understand what it means to achieve. I want to go that distance, Davison. No smoke and mirrors...no clever slight of hand...just me going the extra yard you wouldn't...no COULDN'T go.

Chris Davison: Whatever your case may be, you just don't... you just CAN'T see that you aren't going into a cakewalk this Saturday. You CAN'T see that you're moving into dangerous territory... somewhere you don't want to be. Storm... on Saturday, you may be facing one of the toughest challenges you've encountered in the HWF. You will not overtake me simply, you will not claim that I am nothing more than the same old mediocrity that you've faced a million times.

"Destruction leads to a very rough road
But it also breeds creation
And earthquakes are to a girl’s guitar
They are just another good vibration
And tidal waves couldn’t save the world
From Califonication

Pay your sugeon very well
To break the signs of aging
Sicker then the rest
There is no test
But this is what you’re craving

First born unicorn
Hard core soft porn
Dream of Californication."

Storm: Keep going the way you're going...it keeps you standing after I say my piece. Through triumph and tragedy here in the HWF, I have managed to rise above it all. I've managed to build my character throughout the matters. It's allowed me to blossom into something people never thought I could be. A leader. A champion...and above all else, a true dominant force. I've built an empire around me, and I will not allow someone who thinks they're secure on the in and outside to ruin this for me.

Chris Davison: Storm... now can you see why I'm fighting? Do you see why I care? Do you see why I fight? Tempest to me, is life itself. Without her, it is all meaningless. I was like you once. BUT I GREW UP.

Two goals....both very different...who will see their's fufilled? This is a question I have constantly forced myself to answer, Chris. I have looked that each of us has gone in different ways to make it happen. All this time, I've known what you're fighting for. You're fighting to make the one exisisting wrong in your world right. To take back what you couldn't do a week ago, and that's save your fiancee, Tempest. I know that...I've always known...and it's just too bad you won't do it this time, just like the other times before. This sport was not meant for knights in shining armour, Chris. This sport is for someone like me. Willing to do whatever it takes to win. Yes, it's true. I cannot deny it. I hate Johnny Drake. I've despised him for many many months...but he's the lesser of two evils, and a necessary alliance for me to complete my goals. Yes, I even have a disliking for the one man who has stood by my side since my HWF arrival in Shawn Collins. He too played a part in me losing the Canadian Title, and has time and time again placed me in matches that I have no desire to be in...tables matches, weapons matches...the GLASS TABLES match against Zakin. Hardcore is merely a cheap excuse for us to mimic the dumb children in backyard feds, and for them to mimic us. Oh, Chris, if only you understood. I respect the fact that you want to "keep it real" as some would say...but it's quite unfortunate for you that you work in Wonderland. Alliances are continuously broken here. Nobody is loyal to anyone...and your adamant desire to stay loyal to Tempest will lead you down the same road it's led the previous times...complete failure. Think about it...when was the one match you've had your greatest success? Against my friend Chris Styles, where only his title was on the line. You had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Every time you have had to wager something, you lose. You must really suck at the poker table in Vegas, Davison...but not me. No, Chris...this time the cards are turning up in favour of me...and that's just how I like it. The song said it best...Destruction leads to a very rough road. Your road goes through me to nowhere. My road goes through you, and back to the top of the ladder. Desperation does strange things to people, Mr. Davison...can you see what it's done to me? It's made me angrier. It's made me willing to go to extreme measures just to prove my point. I am the best wrestler in the HWF, and I'm willing to show just how desperate I've become against you on Saturday.

*Fade out to a shot of Storm looking down at Tempest in disgust from last Saturday's Suicide. End of highlight reel.*

"As outwardly cliché as it may seem,
Yes, something under the surface says, "C'est la vie"
It is a circle, there is a plan,
Dead skin will atrophy itself to start again
Look closely at that open wound,
See past what covers the surface
Underneath chaotic catastrophe,
Creation takes the stage."

~Incubus- "New Skin"~

*Fade into a cloudy day. The gray skies make even this old playground seem depressing and dark. The cool wind blows the trees around, and the creaking of the teeter totter catches our attention, and there he sits. Wearing a black Tribal long sleeve shirt, an Anaheim Angels bullpen jacket, a backwards Angels batting practice cap with a red brim and navy blue crown, and a pair of baggy blue jeans, is Jonathan Storm. He keeps teetering alone, and steps off before climbing the ladder on the playground set before he begins to speak.*

Jonathan Storm: Somebody had a different life amongst the wood, sand, and plastic here. Some young boy spent his summer days here and dreamed of a life that he may never ever know again. A space hero, traveling the stars. An adventurer, crawling through caves for hidden treasure...but those dreams must eventually die. The dreams we once had, we eventually give them up as we grow as human beings, and prepare for "The Real World". It's too bad there's some people who haven't grown up...like Chris Davison. Chris, I chose to shed the childhood skin I had of being a baseball player in order to become something much better. A hero on multiple levels, and a multi-talented superstar. I'm not saying that it's bad to keep your dreams though, Chris, after all, my favorite pastime when I'm on the road is going to the batting cages, but when that one dream blinds you from the world that surrounds you, then I feel bad for you. For instance, the only thing that you're focused on is the redemption of Tempest. Well, I believe the woman has remarked on multiple occasions that she is her own woman and she can fight her own battles. Couldn't she be in this battle instead of you? Can't she fight the battle against me? Of course not, because you have this undying obsession to play her hero. I can see it now. A bee stings the young woman, and off Chris goes to kill it to avenge the sting! Chris, your obsession is near comical...to the point where it makes it difficult for me to take you serious as an opponent. Fine, the belt doesn't matter to you? Show up, let me relieve you of the "burden" of being Canadian Champion, and then we'll fight in a non-title encounter. Maybe you'll get lucky then and you'll defeat me! Don't make me laugh, Chris...in the small corner of your head, you're not fighting for Tempest. You're fighting to keep your title, and I'm afraid you won't be any good at retaining it. Don't let me stop you from your dream though, Chris Davison...I'm sure when the midget Tempest looks to take the real one out of the picture, you can push that around for a while...it'll make a big man out of you. I do understand though...we both have our dreams.

"And you will heal yourself when the rain begans to fall
Feel the fire
Burning inside us all
Remove me
For going in unchained
Blow away for yourself gather again
And listen to the conversations of the sea
Inside us all
Lies a quiet beach
If you fall into our center you will become free
I myself
Could use a little clarity
Cause I am so full of love
I am so full of hate
I am so full of these feelings
That tear me every which way."

~Boy Hits Car- "I'm a Cloud"~

*Storm arrogantly smirks as he uses the slide to get down from the plastic gym set. He walks over to the swings and starts to swing on them quite slowly and low to the ground. He smiles and feels free as he does so, letting the wind blow his cap off, and his blond and brown hair falls out and flies through the air.*

Storm: Emotion. Another thing Chris and I are full of. The one thing I have mastered my control over, is the one thing that guides him blindly towards our encounter. What matters most to you? Beating me, or making sure I can't walk the next day? The retainment of the Canadian Title, or you feeling that you've sufficently pounded me for what happened to Tempest? Chris, it is now YOUR turn to listen. You need to figure out what matters most to you. Your hatred of me, or your love of being champion? I too, am quite full of hate. After conquering the odds, I am looked upon as nothing to the "smart marks" out there, and even upon the wrestlers in the back. Jayson Starr thinks I'm too green? Who was the man who made sure he didn't come back for a LOOONG while? Sorry, not Vic Williams, but me. Who sent Lance Sterling running away from me? Well, by george, that was ME! AND ALL BY MY LONESOME TOO! Did I have any help defeating Sterling? He even will admit it...I didn't have help from a damn person. Chris, I have every reason to be full of hate and anger...all you have are the reasons you try to create in your own head...or whatever Tempest will tell you. I'm perfectly aware that you are your own person, but here's a question...how blind is that emotion that drives you? If she asked you to lay down so she could take the Canadian Title from you? What if she asked you to jump off a cliff without any protection, just for her amusement? Davison...what's more important to you? The career you've worked so hard to build, or the woman, who part of the day is your lover, and the other part your rival?

"Standing here
The old man said to me,
'Long before these crowded streets
Here stood my dreaming tree.'
Below it he would sit
For hours at a time
Now progress takes away
What forever took to find
And now he's falling hard
He feels the falling dark
How he longs to be
Beneath his dreaming tree."

~Dave Matthews Band- "The Dreaming Tree"~

*He jumps off the swing in mid air and lands on his feet, bending his knees to absorb the fall. He goes back and collects his Angels cap, and then he places it on his head backwards once more. He walks over to the closest tree and begins to climb it, sitting on a branch about ten feet off the ground. He steadies himself on it, and a cameraman braves it on a cherry picker to raise up to meet Storm up top. Storm keeps a tight hold on the branch, as to be careful not to fall. You can see his feet dangle in the air. Once again, Jonathan speaks.*

Storm: Chris, I've become quite tired of this game. The verbal jabbing back and forth. I've now become quite anxious to face you...and hoping that at the same time I can finally drive my point home to you. Just because you have someone to avenge, doesn't mean it makes you the automatic winner. Hell, it just means you have a little more drive. Davison, this fight is for the Canadian Title, not someone's honour. Besides, if you couldn't do it before, what makes you think you can do it now? Certainly not me. Dreams don't always come true, this I know...and your dream of saving the day, standing over my broken body with the Canadian Title and Tempest smiling on just isn't going to happen...ever. If all it took was the will to win and the drive to succeed, we'd all be winners. This isn't the case, and we're all coming to copes with that bitter knowledge. Chris, one of us is going to break on Saturday night. One of us is going to look back at Saturday a broken down and dejected individual, and I don't plan on it being me. I don't plan on it EVER being me. All I plan on doing is winning back my title, and leaving you with a big reality check...sometimes not even the desire to fulfill your dreams can help you. You've got the desire, but the dream has blinded you. You've yet to think that you're overmatched. After all, who have you beaten of note in the HWF? Blackjack? Hell, I beat the guy who beat Blackjack...TWICE. Chris, one of us will break...and I can promise the world it's going to be you.

Tempest, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for what you'll have to see on Saturday. I'm really sorry that you'll have to run out to the ring and pick up the pieces of one man's shattered career...a shattered heart...and a shattered body. I'm sorry you'll have to watch me break his very essence. I don't take great pleasure in it, but I will this time. Had he just listened, he wouldn't have had to worry. He wouldn't have to go through with this, but he didn't listen...and that's his biggest mistake. I guess I'll find out that the old saying is true. One person's trash, this case it being Chris Davison, is another person's treasure, it being my Canadian Title being strapped back around my waist.

And Chris? I'll make sure to tell The Inner Circle what to expect...as always, I'll tell them "not much".

*Storm holds onto the branch tightly and tilts himself back, flipping off the tree. He lands on his feet and walks out of view. As he does so, we look back to the playground. In its emptiness, the dream is dead. The hopes are gone. Nothing is left...it is all empty. And with the desperation and drive controlling Jonathan Storm, would it be hard to believe that Chris Davison could suffer a similar fate this weekend? Fin.*