Brandon Moore sits in the computer room of a ritsy hotel room. The thoughts of the royal rumble on Monday Malice run through his head. He tries to concentrate on the different competitors who he will face as a part of his debut match. But somehow he seems distracted. There are a lot of friends in this match. He wasn't counting on that. He flips on his vidcam and begins to speak.

I guess you are all expecting me to waste yourn and my time by going on and on about each and every person in this federation, and about what I am going to do to them. After the long and exhausting interview with Draven, I realize how absolutely pointless and boring that would be. First of all, I don't really know a damned thing about anyone here, save a few of you. Second, I'd sound like an ass telling everyone they were no threat to me. Next, I guess you expect me to tell you how great I am and how I am going to win after I whip everyone's ass. Sure, I am that cocky, I am that confident, but I sure as hell am not that damn stupid. I...

At that moment, Wayne Campbell Delacroix walks in, completely uninvited.

Hey man, what you doin'?

Brandon rolls his eyes at the drunken bastard.

Do me a favor and email Buggy. His address is www.buggy.com.

It has to be @ somewhere, Wayne Campbell.

It's at... www.buggy.com!

Brandon rolls his eyes and turns back to the interview.

As I was saying. Though I won't waste your time explaining why I am going to win, I don't mind mentioning a few people who stick out in my mind. First of all there is TrU.

This guy, I am not sure if this guy thinks he is Kurt Angle, or if he thinks it is funny to pun on his own damn name. At most, he is corny as sh't and I don't like him. TrU, you have made yourself my initial target, simply because you have absolutely no talent. But hey, I can give you that you're interviews aren't long enough to be annoying like Draven's. They are just annoying.

As if on cue, but with no prompt, this boston terrier dog, Cody walks into the room with his little toenails clacking on the floor. He snorts obnoxiously and looks at the computer screen. He licks the air for no apparant f'cking reason. Brandon stands up and proceeds to kick the living sh't out of the dog. The dog grabs onto Brandon's slipper and rips it off his foot. Brandon wrestles the slipper away from him and sets it on a table. For the next 45 minutes, Cody tries his damnedest to jump up on the table to get at the slipper. Brandon returns to his interview.

In the locker room last Saturday I noticed that I know a lot of the people here. Personally. Thomas of course. It's thanks to him that I got this job.

In another room, Thomas looks up from his Tetris game at the mention of his name.

No problem.

Then there is Dusty Jones. My old friend from the mean streets of Arkwright. We went through a lot together. Fighting off the Mexican Army Street Gang, going to prison, flying to Australia to get piercings, having our piercings get infected together, getting tetnis shots together... Ok maybe that isn't exactly a hard teenage life, but we were in it together the whole time. That may still matter, or it may not. But in the rumble, it doesn't matter. Just one more body that is going to flip lifelessly over the top rope.

Selena and Smoke Dawg. Two names that have come up in my past before. The reason why should remain unsaid for now. That is something that would only be distracting to everyone here.

All I can say is that every participant in that royal rumble better wake up. Those of you who think that none of the new guys will be a challenge, you are in for a big f'cking surprise. Those of you who know me and think I am going to go easy on you, well, I feel pretty damn sorry for you when you are staring back up through the ropes in disbelief asking yourself why I would knock you out. Its very simple, I am world title material, and though I can't sit here and legitimately say I deserve it, considering I have done no work here, I know that I can legitimately say I can and will earn it. And anyone who thinks otherwise, just slack off and watch what happens when you underestimate Brandon Moore, ya fuckin' choad.

Brandon hears his monster truck fire up and jumps up quickly, running outside. Thomas hears it too and runs out with him. They get about five feet from the Monster when it pulls out of the parking space. Wayne Campbell Delacroix is driving away in it, with a drunken grin on his face. Back in the hotel room, Cody catches his chin on the table he has been trying to jump up on and falls flat on his back, wiggling like a dying turtle on speed.