¤ We spend alot of our time searching for ourselves. We cheat, screw, change, and fight internally to learn who we are. Well, we can't search forever. ¤

Ichabod had finally come to last night. The doctors had pronounced him comatose, and were shocked when he opened his eyes while his family visited. Steve Parke merely laughed. He knew Ichabod, and knew he wouldn't be down for long. Ichabod lived for this sh't, he was proud like a god, and didn't pretend to deny his powers of rejuvination.

Steve sat with him now reading the card for ruffhouse. When he got to the rematch of sorts with Konflict, Ichabod's eyes widened in happy surprise.

Another chance to have a real match with a real competitor. THis place gets better everyday. Tikon, I am glad he won, in a way. It gives me a reason to get this win over him. I don't deny him any of the respect due him, the man beat me, fair and square. In fact I don't deny any of the men in that tournament their respect. Well except Payne. You make me f'ckin sick, Payne. Mastermind is wrong about you, this isn't Payne number 167 or whatever, this is Payne number 1. You've pulled this sh't before. Remember rAw and the ORS? Yeah, same f'ckin situation. I came here looking for you, because I thought we had both grown. When I asked to face you because of our past, you said things were different, that you werent' the same. Well, that's bullsh't as we can all see now. You haven't changed. You are the same old Payne in the ass who sold his soul to money. And you blame your fans? That's real cheap, Justin. Only a loser relies on his fans to make his decisions for him. I don't want that match with you after all. You haven't grown, you've gotten weaker. You succomb to the green, and you don't do this for the pain, the heart, the respect. You are a waste of my time you piece of sh't. I wash my hands of you.

But your whole purpose in WoW is to face Payne.

Yeah? Things change. I have a new purpose now, Steve. Its to show that I don't have to sell my soul to get to the top.

Ichabod pushes the call button to ring the nurse. He asks for a beer for the sheer hell of it knowing that he wouldn't get one. The doctor said he would be released tonight,and the first place he planned on stopping was the Kwik-E-Mart for a 6pak. Then it was straight back to the gym to resume training. He had already lost two days he could have been preparing for this match, and he was going to have to put in extra hours to make up for it.

As for this Horse guy, the man thinks that just because I don't speak with a backwoods accent that I am not a redneck? Well I think i will say the next few words especially for him:

Hey thur, Hoss, looks like we gon meet in da ring for a good ol' fashion asswhoopin, hee haw. I bet ya wuz thinkin we'd get sum beer and meet up with cuzin earl an cuzin betty an celerbrate win we gets our victories over that colored boy (i'm not racist), wernt ya? Why is I speakin' better deez days? Well, I wents to da big school an gots me an edumacation. Yup, now here I is, an edumacated hillbilly. YYYYEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAWWWW. Wur's my spittoon?

Hoss, just because I don't hang out in truck stops or f'ck my cousin in his asshole, doesn't mean I am not a good, God-fearin southern boy. Its dumbsh'ts like you that give us a bad name. Ti Konflict and I are going to give you such an ass-kicking so fast, that no one will even remember you were in that match, son. Then maybe you will learn to respect people like us who are far better than you, and way the hell up the evolutionary chart.

Steve is laughing uncontrollably, probably remembering the times when Ichabod really did talk like that, back in Myrtle Beach. He really had come a long way. Ichabod couldn't help a smile. But his face got serious quickly.

Now, Ti, the two of us have shown this place what it is like to underestimate the rookies. We've gained a lot of respect from our would be enemies. Arctic Fox for one. I am pretty sure our views of each other have changed, and Fox, don't worry, we will meet again. But for now we have our own battles.

Konflict, I think we also showed each other a thing or two last Sunday. You showed me that simply being Hardkore wasn't enough to win alone, and I showed you that winning against a man who loves pain as much as I do was no easy task. I have all the respect in the world for you. Now we've met once before, this second time around should be a little interesting. Its no longer unfamiliar territory for either of us. This will be the first rematch here for both of us, and this time, there are no explosions, no barbedwires, no thumbtacks. Just you, and me and that Neanderthal Hoss. But that doesn't mean we arent' going to give the fans a show that is just as exciting, maybe even more. This time, I will walk away from that match with something more than respect and your blood on my hands. I will be a champion, and you had better bring 150% like I know you can. If you make this match easy on me, then that crown you wear so proudly is going to be just another piece of sh't to me. Good luck.

Steve puts the card away in his briefcase and stands up to walk away. He stops at the door and turns

ONe other thing, Ichabod. Bigg is out of the hospital. He will be returning to duty asap.

Ichabod's eyes narrow knowingly, and he smiles menacingly. The plans, at least some of them, that he had made with the awesome™ one could go back into effect.