[Scene: We open up on the grounds of what appears to be a Health Spa, somewhere in the outskirts of Melbourne, Australia. Around the greenish grounds people walk around with bathrobes on heading to massages and people in swim trunks heading towards the pool. Around the outsides people play golf and tennis as some just sit around and chat. In the center, in the middle courtyard of this lavish complex, we find a humble cameraman.

He just sits there reading a recent issue of "Camera World" as he sighs and flips the page. Suddenly, a shadow washes over him as he looks up and at the man, the myth, the legend...er, ok, its just Syd. Syd nods his head in one direction and the cameraman nods as he puts his magazine in his pocket and picks up the camera. He follows Syd down a gravel trail and into one of the buildings, labeled simple "The Weight Room".

They head inside the air conditioned room as the cameraman follows Syd though the jungle of metal. It clanks and clanks over and over as muscled men and women get in their daily workout. Towards the back, Syd finally leads the cameraman to Chris Cortez, who is currently benching. Syd clears his throat before talking to Chris Cortez, who keeps on pumping that iron]

Syd: Chris, he's here.

[Chris Cortez looks up at the cameraman who gives him a wave of his hand to acknowledge his presence. Chris Cortez nods as he does one final pump and lays it back to rest. He gets up as Syd hands him a bottle of water and Chris Cortez drinks it down, all the while looking at the cameraman. Chris Cortez, done with his drink, walks past the cameraman, barely looking at him as he heads out the door he yells at him]

Chris Cortez: Your late, c'mon, Ive got another appointment.

[Syd looks at the cameraman and nods in disappointment as Syd walks fast to catch up with Chris Cortez]

Cameraman: Whatever.

[The cameraman follows behind them as Chris Cortez and Syd enter another building, this one a bit smaller. They enter as Chris Cortez hands the lady a ticket or form of some kind. She nods and points to a door and Chris Cortez heads in, the cameraman goes to follow but Syd stops him]

Syd: No, we stay here you sick bastard. He'll be right out, your'll get your word soon enough.

[Syd and the cameraman sit down in some chairs as they wait, they wait a few minutes as Chris Cortez finally comes out with a robe on, his clothes in his hand. He hands em to Syd who waits there, as he motions for the cameraman to follow Chris Cortez. The cameraman follows him into another room where a table is and also a nice young women there waiting for him. He takes off his robe, to show a bulky pair of speedos, as he gets on the table, to start his massage. As the woman goes to work, Chris Cortez points at the cameraman and then at a small TV/VCR combo across from the massage table.]

Chris Cortez: Hey, do me a favor? Pop in the tape and just keep the camera fixed on me. As for you baby, just keep on giving me some of that good stuff.

[The woman smiles as the cameraman grabs a tape out of his coat pocket and puts it into the VCR, turning on the TV, he goes back to his camera. Only to be stopped by the voice of Chris Cortez]

Chris Cortez: Ah, excuse me? Remote?

[The cameraman mumbles some choice words under his breathe as he picks up the remote and hands it to Chris Cortez. Heading back to the chair, he picks up the camera and starts recording as the tape starts right when the dear ditzy blonde Ms.Riley knocks on the door to the legendary man himself, Vertigo. They banter back and forth, Abbey, like being controlled like a puppet, laughs along with Vertigo and agrees with him all the while. After some more chit chatting, she puts in the tape, and things finally start to actually get interesting.]

[Abbey starts the tape, watching Vertigo's face and telling Cameron to zoom in for a good profile shot]

Chris Cortez: ...Which brings me to Vertigo.... Which side is he on? Does he wish to continue his crooked path down such a greedy road? Or does he wish to keep his status, his legendary glory, his written history, untainted by corporate blood? Killjoy's history, his written name in the books of LSW lore, have already been tainted by such corporate blood. All his wins, all his titles, all his victories, are nothing more than corporate wins, are nothing more then greed coming to the surface. He has been seen for what he really is. An old no-talented has-been.

Vertigo: Oh god, do I have to spell it out for you, you dolt? I've said it once, but I guess I have to say it again. You and I will NEVER, EVER find ourselves on the same side of the battle. You are trying to take out the very dynasty I built. No matter who your opponent is, be it Killjoy or any of the other countless unrecognized legends in this federation, your fight is with me as well. We represent what is right with this federation, you obviously would be the foolish young punks who know absolutely nothing about how to truly rule. Sure, win all the gold you want, it means nothing. Everyone gets their fifteen minutes, but folks like me and Killjoy, we take all the damn time we want, and no greenhorn like you is going to tell us otherwise.... and once again, you're getting back to this greedy thing... Please, remind me what exactly it is that I'm so greedy for. Fame? Money? Power?

[Chris Cortez pauses the tape, as the women keeps on massaging the back of Chris Cortez]

Chris Cortez: Just a bit lower...yeah, that's the spot...ahhhh, yes, the "dynasty" of Vertigo and his past LSW buddies. So foolish are they, to think that they have all the time in the world. For, they do not. Their time is running out. The clock is ticking, the countdown is still indeed, counting down. Counting down to what? Why, the end of course. The end of their "rule", the end of their "reign", and the end of their "dynasty". Much like Chinese Dynasties of the past, theirs has gone on long enough, and its about time that another one rises up and destroys them. For they have had their 15 minutes, they have had all their "time in the world". Their time is up. Their world is about to come crashing down. Their end is near. They are scared. They know. They know they have not much time left. So, keep it up. Keep up the lies, keep it up. They will only be revealed for what they truly are in the end, and that is: lies. So, lets hear what he indeed has to say about Money, Power and Fame. Plenty more lies, for that, I am sure.

[Chris Cortez presses play]

Vertigo: I've got all the power I need. My name is all over your mind already so I've got the fame I need. Money isn't an issue, I've made my share already. Now what do you have against me? Nothing. You said yourself that I do indeed have "legendary glory" and have indeed "written history".... you've already proven my point. I am an icon in this federation, you're a lucky fan. You show me more and more that all you do is act like a hardass when people tell you you're a hardass. You get one belt and all of a sudden you're a god, capable of breaking the only tradition that holds this federation together. Well, now it's time to act like the lame assclown I know you are. I'm telling you right here and now, win, lose, or draw, I'll be leaving that arena smiling. You aren't leaving with that pretty mug of yours intact, and you won't be giving any concerts. I guarantee it.

[Chris Cortez pauses it and just smiles as he shakes his head]

Chris Cortez: Oh, listen. Listen to that foolish old man. Listen to Vertigo. Hear his words. Hear them and laugh. He has his power, yes, corporate power thanks to his buddy Killjoy. He has his fame, yes, fame built on nothing but that corporate power. Lastly, yes, he has the money, corporate money. Indeed, its true he has "legendary glory" and "written history". FALSE legendary glory and written history. Much like the bible or any holy book you read these days. Who is to say that what is written in it, is the truth? Who is to say that it is nonfiction? Certainly not Vertigo. Certainly not the man who claims to be all he says he is and more. We are supposed to believe this man, this has-been, this old man, we are supposed to believe his old porch side summer tales about days gone by? Remembering the good times. The time when he was something and actually amounted to anything.

Now, He can talk all he wants about how this "past legacy" is keeping the LSW together. He can talk all he wants about it. How it isn't glue or paste or cement that is holding the LSW together, no. It isn't. It's corporate blood. Blood from all those who have had to sit around and feel its pain, its torture, while those, those who controlled the blood flow, just looked on and smiled, laughing. Those men, men of the past, like Vertigo and Killjoy. They, They, THEY are not what is RIGHT about LSW. THEY are what is WRONG with LSW. Try as they might to keep their legacies going, their glory going, and their corporate stained blood running, they must remember: all good things come to an end. That end, THE END, is the PPV. For, although Vertigo speaks of Win, Losing or Drawing, it isn't a matter of Win, Lose or Draw. Its only a matter of LOSING. Which is exactly what he will be doing at the PPV: LOSING.

[Chris Cortez presses play]

Chris Cortez: ...Just like an old machine is replaced by a newer model within a year or so of it's making, this is thus the same. Vertigo, Killjoy, the past of LSW, they have become OBSOLETE. They still believe that they can make it in this world, full of better and more efficient models...

Vertigo: You know, you'd think the ice age came through while I was gone. I left for two fucking weeks. Not a year, not thirty years. Two weeks. Exactly how much could possibly change over a period of two weeks? Cortez, not a damn thing has changed, except when I left you saw an open spot on the main eventer list so you tried to make it. You brushed Mali the right way and suddenly you think you are god's gift to the squared circle. There is absolutely nothing different from the day I left to today right here and now. Not one thing. Get it straight, or I'll be glad to give you a close-up look at how it is. The truth hurts Cortez, one day you'll learn. Please, let me be the one to show you...

[Chris Cortez presses pause]

Chris Cortez: A bit lower...no, lower...yeah, that's better...now, Vertigo, it doesn't matter wither it was two weeks, one week or two days. The fact of the matter is that just like a battery: your running out of power. Your time is almost up. Your being drained each day, each day, your being drained, drained of your power. That power which keeps you going, making you what you are and who you are. This power which keeps you at the so called "top of your game". This power which keeps you as a self-proclaimed "legend". Your power, with each day, no matter how many of them go by, your power is draining, and its getting horribly low. You try and you try to get more power, corporate power, into you, but it isn't the same as the real stuff. While at the time it's keeping alive, in the end, it will be the death of you, your career and your so called "legacy". Your power is running out, and it will run out at the PPV, I will be the final spike driven into you, and your power will deplete before your very eyes, and ears, as you hear the 1...2...3. That will be the truth. The truth that you are nothing, that you are over, and that you have no future what so ever.

[Chris Cortez presses play]

Chris Cortez: Youth is the way of life. Certainly an 8 year old boy can run faster than an 80 year old man. He'd run circles around him, he is faster than him and the 80 year old man could certainly break a hip as well. Certainly an 8 year old can work harder and faster than an 80 year old, for the 80 year olds back as given out, his joints are stiff. These old men, of the past, Vertigo and Killjoy, they know they cannot outdo us, no, of course not. They are obsolete models which have barely much use anymore, they can no longer keep up with the models of the future. So, what do they do? What do they do to match us? The get an upgrade. A corporate sponsored upgrade. They become faster, with the corporate power. They become stronger and work harder, with the corporate power. Without it, they are nothing. They are old, they are obsolete, they are no longer what they used to be...

Vertigo: Oh Jesus, tell me you didn't just waste more breath saying that... You are absolutely right about the difference between an 80-year old and an 8-year old. Wow, you have common sense, I'm impressed. But you see, you failed, once again, to realize that I am no more an 80 year old than you are an 8-year old. I'm 27 years old, you are maybe 23. 4 Years is much less than 72. God, you're dense. Let me make sure you realize, you won't be getting any kind of pinfall over me because I "break a hip" or throw out my back. The small age difference I have over you means nothing but useful experience that you have yet to go through. It's an advantage, you moron. Wake up and smell the coffee.

[Chris Cortez presses pause]

Chris Cortez: Man, has he gotten so old he has forgotten about analogies? Or maybe he just never went through the proper high school education to have learned such a concept. I was mealy using the ages to prove a point. The fact that I am fresh and I am new, much like an 8 year old. You are old, weak, pathetic, run down, a has-been. I done care if your 4 years older than me. That's 4 years you've been in the ring longer than me. So, this, the most time you've been in the ring, makes you a legend? No. It doesn't. You've been in the ring longer, your body has been battered more, it has been destroyed more. Me? My body is fresh, it is still agile, it is fast, it is better than yours. Yours has been put to the limit and it has broken down. Its a broken down car. Im fresh out of the factory.

Wait, Im sorry, Im using analogies again, is it all too much for your battered and beaten brain to even comprehend? I think so. Yet, you still press on with your "older is better" campaign. You might have the experience, but no matter how much you know, no matter how much knowledge you have in your brain, its what carries the brain around, what carries the knowledge around, that counts. Remember that. Learn that. Study that. Know that. You will come the PPV.

[Chris Cortez presses play]

Veritgo: And again, you take this whole corporate thing way out of proportion. Am I some kind of cyborg now? Do I have synthetic muscles? Fake wrestling tactics? Am I the new six-billion dollar man? I must be, because otherwise you'd be dead wrong... oh wait, YOU ARE! Seriously, do you think this is some sort of video game where I get bonuses every few levels? Where I can just go back to the "corporate base" and get cool new powerups to keep up with you "all-powerful mighty" losers? I don't need a damn thing to eliminate you from this whole equation. I'm more than capable of crippling you, ripping out your precious voicebox, and marring your face for good. Your life might as well end after our match, you've gone and pissed me off. Blood spills after people make mistakes like that. Yours will be like Christmas for me, I'll be more than happy to shred you and your last little shard of dignity... I take it as my duty. The fact of the matter is, you're another mouth with no head. You talk and talk, but have no idea what you're saying or what it'll lead to. You'll see Tuesday night when I tear you apart in front of all of your adoring fans.

[Chris Cortez just laughs as he presses pause]

Chris Cortez: Man, its funny how people say one thing in defense, when in reality, its really being used against them. For you see Vertigo, you are this corporate sponsored superman, a super six million dollar man. Your run down and nothing. So, your pumped full of corporate blood and corporate sponsoring and suddenly your back on your feet, ready to do their bidding. Of course, if anyone stands in their way, the corporations way, of doing things, your quick to stop them. Quick to stop people like me. Why? Because, without the corporation to help you, your back to being nothing. Back to being run down. No more power ups, no more nothing. That's the fear that keeps you going. The fear that if someone like me was to take away your sponsors power, you, like them, would be left with nothing. You can talk all you want about destroying me so you can keep your power safe. Talk, talk, talk, talk all you want. Like you said, talk is cheap. Indeed, in a world filled with corporate greed and money, a corporate hugger like you would find talk cheap. Besides, wouldn't using your corporate power to actually take someone down make you look better than just saying you will? Of course. However, come the PPV, that will not be the case. For It will be I, who will be taking YOU down. For your only one small piece to the corporate puzzle. Just a puppet in their game. I am the scissors, and your strings, your ties, they are going to get cut. Ive said it hundreds of times, and ill keep saying, until you realize that indeed: THE END, YOUR END, IS NEAR.

[Chris Cortez presses play]

Cortez: It’s obvious that your eyes have been blinded by all that Killjoy has promised you. The power. The glory. The money. You have lost sight of what is right and what is truly wrong. Killjoy is wrong. Doing all this just to get back to the position you once where, to taint your legacy with corporate blood, it is all wrong. Yet, because you are blinded by such, you see it was right, so be it, If I’m the one who has to give you your wake up call, so be it. It'll be a pleasure to finally knock some sense into you come the PPV...

Vertigo: That's personal. It's on. You can call me an old man all you want, I'll gladly prove you wrong. You can call me corporate all you want, I'll gladly throw all the rules out the window, shatter your skull and call it a day. You can call me whatever, but never again will you refer to me as any kind of follower to Killjoy. He and I are equals, no more, no less. If you think he's got supremacy over me, ask him yourself. If he was truly supreme, he'd say so. He knows as well as I do and as you will soon find out that we are complete, total equals in this game. There is no leader, no follower, only two guys who know what to do with snot-nosed flashes in the pan such as yourselves. We'll be the ones watching when you burn out, fade away. Killjoy hasn't promised me a damn thing. He never offered me anything, I never accepted anything. He and I work separately towards the same goal.

[Chris Cortez presses pause]

Chris Cortez: Oh, so now you and Killjoy both hold the same amount of corporate power, eh? Wither you are lying or not, it doesn't matter. Your lies will be seen for just that come the PPV: lies. I am not a flash in the pan, the flash in the pan is you who's flash is about to burn out. The truth will be revealed at the PPV, indeed it will. The truth though, isn't something Im sure you will love. Something that will be easy for you to come to terms with. The truth that you are indeed nothing but a has-been, an old man who is past his prime a pathetic corporate hugger who needs their help just to get by. That is the truth. You will learn this truth come the PPV. Wither you like it or not.

[Chris Cortez presses play]

Vertigo: You follow Cortez? We are two identities, working to eliminate the same mutual enemy. That's all. He and I do have an alliance, but it's been forged over time, before you even knew how to wrestle. Don't think for a second I came back because of something he promised me. You're dead wrong on that account if you honestly believe your own horseshit. Oh, and one more thing, just try and give me a wake up call. Try and tell me that what I'm doing is wrong. Try to tell me that defending the kingdom I built, the dynasty I oversee, the legacy I graciously accept, and the legend I know I am is wrong. You, being the "young" challenger against "old man Vertigo", are in the wrong in everything that you say and do. You won't be the one to end my career or my legacy. You certainly won't be knocking anything into me, you can bet your bottom dollar that the tides will in fact be against you all night. You have no idea how hot this flame you play with is... you will be burned.

[Chris Cortez presses pause]

Chris Cortez: Indeed, I follow. Much like how you two corporate huggers want to destroy those who threaten your power, people like me, want to see your reign end. We're sick and tired of you, so we're out to destroy you. Which is just what we will do. The PPV, it is THE END. THE END of your kingdom, which will fall to rubble. THE END of your dynasty, which will crumble to ruins. THE END of your legacy, which will cease to be. THE END of the legend, which never was. THE END of the fire, which I will put out. THE END OF THE PAST. THE END...OF VERTIGO

[Chris Cortez powers off the TV as the still picture of Vertigo fades into the blackness]

Chris Cortez: You can leave now, Mr.Cameraman, whatever your name is, Ive got to get more...aquented...with our lady friend here.

[The woman just smiles as the cameraman looks at them, and coughs]

Cameraman: Well, what about Vixen and the XecutionerZ, mainly Allen Rage?

[Chris Cortez stops looking into the eyes of the woman and sighs as he kinda just rolls his eyes]

Chris Cortez: I'll address Allen Rage later, I mean c'mon, Im a bit busy at the moment. Now, as for Vixen...well...hey, If she's serious, she can leave me her number or a note or whatever, just slide it under my VIP room door at the stadium, I'll be sure to get back to her. Now, as for YOU, Mr.Cameraman, please get out of here, for I have a bit of my own massaging to do.

[Chris Cortez smiles as the woman blushes. The cameraman heads out the door and as he closes it he shuts off the camera which fades to the same countdown clock we've been seeing for about a few days now.]