The church is dead and quiet as Ichabod opens the doors. He walks in and looks around. The place looks good, after all its been through. Ichabod laughs as he swings the knapsack in his left hand. He walks up to the alter and sets the bag underneath it. He looks around as if he is going to address an imaginary congregation. Then he climbs up into the choir box and sits about three seats left of center. He lights up a Newport and looks at his watch. In his head he makes a quick calculation and then breathes deeply.
Triple X, so ignorant to what lies before you plain as day. Its obvious that you don't pay attention as you say you do, because if you did, you wouldn't need to go see a psychiatrist about my condition. I've spelled it out, Steve's run tests to show it, I've sought out help. It should be clear as day to any person of average intelligence that the problem is caused by a chip in my head. But if you paid attention you'd know that by now.
You keep trying to make a point that I am a failure who is reverting to my earlier successes. Damn interesting that is, considering I haven't failed yet. In less than a year I've made a glorious return to professional wrestling after a nervous breakdown; I've beaten every person who was on the roster at the time of Gladiator, including your B-Pac; I've won the World Title and gone undefeated; I ran WoW successfully while Darren was out of commission. Only losing out on King Karnage has marred my career, but not too badly considering I'll get an even closer shot at the WoW championship after beating you at King Karnage. Since I joined WoW, I've had nothing but success, never failing to win any title I was put in line to wrestle for. And the time I keep reverting to, even though successful, was not nearly as successful as now. So really your theory is full of holes and can't hold water. I'm sorry you think you have it so cut and dry, but maybe you should check your sources again.
Ichabod begins to look around again after checking his watch a second time. He notices that the walls have been rebuilt even more glorious than before, a standing testament that even things that fall may stand again. He laughs as he remembers the damage he's done countless times in the past.
More and more you prove to me that you are a little afraid to face me. You try to make excuses saying I was stupid for stepping into the ring. Guess what, boy? I was signed to this match. You think I'm going to back down from an opportunity to have the WoW Championship and smack around a chump like you? Smack the one who wants everyone to call him daddy? That reminds me, how many people that you've beaten in the ring have actually called you Daddy? Not a damn one from my recollection. I can't recall anyone ever calling you daddy. Your whole line of offense is a damn joke, an image in your mind, a plaything that you've outgrown but can't put away.
X, I'm would say I'm getting tired of your used up lines and redundant promos, but seriously its making the beating you are about to recieve that much more anticipated for me. Every time you spout one of your lines, every time you crack a joke, and every time you refer to yourself in the third person, I don't get pissed... rather I sit back and smile a little more because I think of how wonderful it will be to cram that crap right down your throat. What will you do when the jokes on you?
As far as I know, no one has ever gotten the best of you like I'm going to, so you are well unprepared for this. Why hasn't anyone put you in your place? Its simple, they know it'd be bad for entertainment if their friendly carefree neighborhood Ex can't smile anymore because he's swallowed half his teeth. Me, I couldn't give two rats' asses about how good you look on television. Like your laugh, your looks don't win matches. Everything your confidence is built on is meaningless. You can say you are cocky because you've earned it, but really what have you gone up against in the past. Surely nothing this dangerous, this serious, this costly, because anyone who has finds life way too painful to just crack a smile at the drop of a hat. You don't know what pain is, you don't know what it's like to be a hate driven machine, and you never will.
Oh, don't get me wrong, you'll feel pain, alright, but not like what I'm talking about. I mean the pain of knowing what to love and what to burn to be successful. You can't discern the true meaning of success because you've never had to kill off half of what you know and love just to earn it. Every resented victim adds fuel to the fire, the fire that can consume a simple man like you--if you ever had the guts to stand up and light it. No, men like you stand outside the fire and dance and play in the light and warmth, never getting close enough to let it sear. They say no man ever drowned in sweat, thats because when you are hot enough to sweat gallons you do one of two things, you drop from exhaustion and die, or you accept it and let it make you stronger. These are things you couldn't understand. I've come so close to the fire it turned me to ice inside, making buring up everthing until I am stone with little emotion left. You trust that you can handle this, like the mischievous kid who holds up a lit stick of dynamite because he saw someone on TV do it. You should never trust what you don't understand, and it's so obvious that you understand nothing about me. Jackass? Hardly. Villain? Maybe. Evil? Yes. Heartless?
Define heart. You think you have it because you put on a good show for the fans and love doing it. That's not heart, that's selling out. Heart is being able to break your own heart to have what you know is everything in life, and still go on. You'll never have that because you don't have the balls to do it. You have nothing to lose.
Nothing to lose except your shot at the title. And you will lose that. You may step into the ring with a smile and a nod to the fans, but by the time its over, you won't be smiling. No you'll wonder how this guy who you had all figured out came out of nowhere and burned you like the piece of trash you are. You will always remain one step behind, because you don't have what it takes to go up against the likes of me.
The scene fades out as Ichabod is checking his watch again and getting up.
As the explosion destroys the tiny church, the sound of a monster truck is heard speeding off in the opposite direction.
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