''One's'' Road to Rasslemania: Are we there yet?

[Level-Two]

''One's'' Road to Rasslemania: Are we there yet?

BREAKING NEWS FROM LIVE NCC BROADCAST!

''Ladies and gentlemen all hell has broken loose in downtown liberty city as we receive countless reports of several people exhibiting super natural behaviors that have never been documented before! The first came from a man standing right beside me who has been exhibiting extraordinary feats of accuracy...''

[The female news reporter turns around and is immediately pelted with a spit ball that nails her right in her eye. The man is short, pudgy, pale and bald with a tank top with a large mustard stain left of center on his dirty shirt. She grabs at her face and stumbles around disoriented trying to regain her composure...]

''Ow, I believe I can't see through my left eye right now...''

[She says in a professional tone as the guy standing beside her closes his eyes and swipes the microphone directly out of her hands and conducts the interview himself.]

''Well, it started when I was on the basketball court with a few of my mates—I couldn't miss a shot. It didn't matter where I took it from it went in. I'm out here every day and I'm usually the last one picked but not anymore. My life long dream of becoming a player in the NBA is now within reach... pun fully attended''

[The news reporter shoves the man to the side as he reaches down and picks up a basketball he had nearby. He smiles at the camera as he begins to dribble behind the reporter who's holding her hand over her eye as she is still unable to see out of it...]

''This wasn't the only thing we've discovered today, we have footage of a man who claims he can fly, more now with Robbie Rob Roberson...''

[The female news reporter stumbles away from camera view as the fat pasty bald guy, throws the basketball over his shoulder sending the flying orange right into the stations truck. The ball smacks the satellite disk cutting the feed momentarily...]

''We're back live... I'm Robbie Rob Roberson! We have received a report from a man claiming he could fly but we are saddened to report to you tonight that man has died after scaling and jumping off a 10 story building. The man is expected to have been on and I quote...''

''Some strong ass shit''

''Reportedly, a new drug by the name of ''Talfourd'' which exhibits side effects such as delusion, hallucinations, incoherence and the ability for one to ramble on nonsensically for hours at a time appeared near the scene of the incident. The police however are still looking into the situation as they haven't yet ruled out foul play. Many of the people we have interviewed earlier today, believe that many of these claims cropping up are manufactured but earlier today, we've witnessed something none of our experts have been able to explain...''

[We see several people laid out on a patch of grass by a small river with several hundred more people carrying huge beer mugs collecting what appears to be wine in a river. Standing in-front of everyone is a man that looks similar to... well, Jesus.]

''A local homeless man by the name of Jesus Chris has reportedly been able to turn water into wine and has quickly become the most popular person around town over night. We talked with a local bar owner that described Jesus Chris as a frequent customer...''

[We see a middle aged man behind a counter cleaning up spilt beer with his free hand as the reporter shoves the microphone in his face...]

''Jesus Chris? That guy comes here almost every day, when he isn't out collecting donations. That guy has a keg for a gut, I'll tell ya. He'll usually order dozens of beer and spend six hours talking about how messed up this world is, you know? I think he comes in here to drink his sorrow away, he's gone absolutely batshit ever since his favourite APW superstar Sally Talfourd has given herself over to the devil, well at least that's what he says. He's kinda Debbie downer but he keeps this business running, even if it does look more like a church...''

[The news reporter turns around and we see several pews lined up in rows. Several posters of Sally Talfourd with her APW world championship around her shoulder hang on the wall under passages from the bible which is sub headlined by the words; ''Virgin Mary''. The confused news reporter turns back to the bartender as several seconds of awkward silence follows before jump cut back to the live reporter, Robbie Rob Roberson who's sporting a forced look of concern across his face]

''Folks, we are receiving hundred of reports of witnesses claiming that they have seen others exhibit super natural behaviors. We are unsure if these reports are anything more then hoaxes at this point. However minutes ago, the mayor has put the entire city on lock down as the president has issued a national security alert in attempt to get to the bottom of this dangerous threat...

[Awkward pause...]

''This of course, Right before he issued his picks for America's favourite pastime, wrasslin' and Rasslemania in what he called the biggest sports spectacle to date. He has chosen the former APW world champion, Level-One over Sally Talfourd showing that he is indeed in touch with public opinion. We'll be right back with more news as it comes in. This is all from NNC, your host Robbie Rob Roberson!''

[The ''NCC'' television logo flashes across the screen as slowly we zoom away from what was just a television screen. Standing in-front of the television screen is none other then Level-One and his personal secretary, Vannah White. Level-One can't help but smile where-as Vannah White wears a grave look of concern on her face, along with her heavily applied make up. He realizes this...]

''What's wrong with you?''

[Vannah White turns to Level-One as if he had just asked the stupidest question he could possibly conjure up]

''Are you fucking with me, Lester!? You don't see anything wrong with what's going on right now—at all?''

''Well, a guy had super aim. Another guy, thinks he's Jesus Christ. Who really cares? It's not like these powers couldn't be explained somehow? Until you can show me a guy who can fly, without face planting himself on the concrete to suffer an undeniable death, I'd say this is hardly anything to worry about...''

''Are you really going to wait that long to prove yourself wrong? Lester, if we don't do something about this now the entire world will change...''

''And? It's not like this world has been anything special. We'll make history, how awesome is that?''

[Vannah White huffs as she grabs a remote control and shuts off the television tossing it on a couch behind her. Vannah White crosses her arms to her chest as she stares at Level-One with a take no prisoners attitude]

''You'll make history alright. You'll let someone develop a power that will neutralize you inside a wrestling ring and you can kiss that world title goodbye for good! Imagine hypothetically speaking, someone like Sally Talfourd was able to get her hands on some of this stuff? Faster? Smarter? More durable? You can't risk that...''

''Fine, okay? You win. I'll cancel my training camp and get on this right away...''

[Level-One sighs as he turns around to walk away, however Vannah White grabs him by the wrist which makes him spin around to face her]

''What?''

''You can't do that. You need to train for your match. You need to do everything to ensure you beat Sally Talfourd once and for all, mate. Look, I'll handle this okay? I'll make this entire thing better, I just need you to believe me and support me in this, okay?''

[Level-One grinned as he nudged Vannah White softly on her shoulder]

''Yeah, I trust you. Thanks a lot...''

''You go train and put together one hell of a video package for your promo this week, alright? Just make sure you keep yourself available. I'll be calling you if anything crazy shite goes down...''

It wasn't long after these words Level-One walked off in the opposite direction leaving her alone; she knew this when she heard the door slam shut. For the first time in a long time she was able to show emotion beyond the tough girl exterior and she broke down and cried....

This would be a defining moment in both of their life's...

THE HEADQUARTERS; THE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR
ACT I

Every writer has a defining moment in his career... this is Andrew Meltzers! For the past several months I have been turning Level-One's tin can promos into pure gold. I have been giving him the confidence to go out there and win his matches knowing that he doesn't have to worry about putting together a quality production piece at the end of the week. Ultimately, my work has lit up the eyes of the APW fans like a fire ignited in the sky!

This isn't about Level-One or Sally Talfourd, it isn't about the main-event or even Rasslemania... it's about me and officially putting together the ultimate promo and being recognized world wide for my efforts once and for all! I have made great progress over the last several months but like Level-One becoming number one contender; what is it worth if I don't win now? Nothing!

Failure is not an option.

[Andrew Meltzer spins around in his chair and see's Level-One sitting right behind him. Damn it, he thought. His mother must have let Level-One in. They weren't doing anything funky with each-other, were they? Is Level-One a milf hunter? What if he marries her does that make me his step brother? That's be awesome. These are all questions he wanted but wouldn't dare to ask.]

''Brownies?''

[Andrew Meltzers mom busted into his world of war craft dragon layer (mothers basement?). She held the trey in-front of the two of them. Andrew Meltzer looked up at his mother awkwardly, where as Level-One smiled and grabbed as many brownies as his hands could possibly fill before she ushered herself off in the opposite direction]

''Thanks Miss. Meltzer. I love brownies!''

''Really? You think stuffing your mouth with fatty foods is a good idea just a week away from Rasslemania? You know Sally Talfourd is no joke and she's going to come in shape...''

''That's good for her. She's going to need every advantage, I can possibly stuff down my throat...''

[Andrew Meltzer fixes his glasses, closes his eyes and then screams from the top of his lungs...]

''MY CAREER DEPENDS ON THIS! PUT DOWN THE FRICKEN' BROWNIES, LESTER!''

[Level-One raises his arms as if he was under arrest and drops the brownies. Andrew Meltzer looks up at Level-One and slowly grins feeling the power he had over the former APW world champion. That of course is before he reaches over and slaps Andrew Meltzer across the head after playing possum]

''Don't you ever speak to me like that again, you little prick. Fair enough though because you do have a point. So, what exactly was so urgent about this meeting, again?''

''We're here to discuss pre match strategy and go through some of the footage you collected this week for your promo. Think of it as a briefing session. I figured you could give me some insight from a competitors perspective, I lack.''

[Andrew Meltzer had a great point. An impressed Level-One nodded his head as the two proceeded to go over hours worth of footage. At some point it's worth noting that Andrew Meltzer just wasn't pleased with what he saw]

''This isn't good enough. I mean, it's good enough for a Thursday Night Overdrive... certainly, something worth applaud over at that shithole IWC but for Rasslemania the biggest event in professional wrestling? It just doesn't cut it.''

''Ouch, tough crowd. Well, what the hell do you want me to do about it?''

''Make it better...''

''Care to elaborate?''

''Trash talk. We need more trash talk...''

''I think I have said everything I needed to say about Sally Talfourd...''

''Then say it again! It doesn't matter what you say, as long as you say it in a different way then you said it the last time the fans probably won't pick up on it and will likely applaud it. Let's go...''

''Well, um... okay?''

[Level-One faces a cam corder]

''Sally Talfourd just like at Shockwave when you laced up the boots to face me one-on-one, I'm going to beat you at Rasslemania. At Shockwave, I proved to the entire world that I am bar none the best competitor in this sport. I proved that all your shit talking meant nothing and your guarantees of victory, was nothing more then hot air! Lastly, at Shockwave... I proved to the entire world that you simply aren't championship material....''

[Level-One stops talking and turns to Andrew Meltzer. Something didn't feel right. He felt dishonest. Awkward. His guilty conscious set in. And for split second he wondered if Sally Talfourd ever feels the same thing? Surely, she's human?]

''I can't do this...''

''What? Why not!? That was perfect, just keep going...''

''I can't. It just feels... so long ago. How can I honestly sit there and pretend like the Sally Talfourd at Shockwave is going to be the same Sally Talfourd at Rasslemania? The truth is, she isn't and we both know that...''

''I don't know if you know this but Sally Talfourd just shot a promo ranting about her past victories over you for honestly, days at a time. Christmas Chaos was months ago, but you don't see her complaining!? You're going to let her get away with that shit and not return to favor? You know people are going to get behind all that!''

''Then let them, Andrew. Sally Talfourd may be able to sway the minds of the weak with her feeble winds emerging from her mouth but she cannot trash talk and lie to the future from taking it's rightful course...''

''Feeble words!? These are the words from a world champion!''

...

''Yes. A desperate world champion on her last dying breath...''

---

OPERATION POPPA PILL

[We find ourselves amongst top military brass. A mole inside had no qualms with taping the following event given the enormous monetary gain he'd receive in return all the while doing little to no damage to the country he served. The general stood at the end of a large table as he leaned over it intimidatingly. A small black box sat in the middle of the table as everyone listened in on the audio feed...]

Vannah White: Jason, it's time to come clean! About us, about Level-One... about everything.



Jason Blackburn: I was afraid it was all going to come down to this. You don't trust me. You don't believe me. You don't have my back, anymore. Damn it, Vannah. You were supposed to keep our enemy close... not fall in love with him.

Vannah White: That's not true, Jason and you know it!

Jason Blackburn: Can I really blame you, Vannah? I mean, look at him and look at me. My success has always been confined to behind a curtain. Behind the scenes. All work and no reward. Level-One is your APW Rasslemania main-event... where as, I'm nothing more then a President Jeff knock off who's the bookie of it all. My work has always and always will be a thankless reality...

Vannah White: What are you doing? Why can't I see anything!?



Jason Blackburn: ... because you have and will always be blind to me! These pills are finally going to give me the attention I deserve, Vannah. Half of this goddamn city has already gotten their hands on this stuff and it's only matter of time before the rest of the world does, too. And I will be the man recognized for giving ordinary people like me and you powers they thought they could never ever preform.

Vannah White: These people don't want silly powers, Jason. They want their life's back and you took apart of that away, when you messed with their memories.

Jason Blackburn: Memories? Of what, being a bunch of square mortals? The only reason people have gotten their hands on these pills is because they want to forget the people they once were, Vannah. Lester Only? That man is a piece of shit.

Vannah White: He's better man then you'll ever be!

Jason Blackburn: ...and it's all because he truly cannot recall the monster he once was. I saved Lester Only much like I saved myself and everyone else who has ever had it hard in this city. And yet, I'm the bad guy? I'm the big bad villain because I decided to flip the boring old script!?

Vannah White: Just do the right thing, Jason!

Jason Blackwell: Do the right thing? I remember you being there with me all along, Vannah.

Vannah White: You're a fuckin' liar!

Jason Blackburn: You held down Lester Only, as we slipped him the MEM-184 and you know it! He saw us do it. He knows you were with me. And if we go back, he will see it all over again. Do you think that bastard will ever forgive you for what you did to him?

Vannah White: I don't care, Jason! I am not going along with this anymore. It's wrong.

Jason Blackburn: Damn it, Vannah! I am going to spend the rest of my life in a two by four cell! There is no way I am going to go down without taking you with me, you bitch! Lester Only is going to know about what we did to Kayla. Remember that? Remember when we...

[The sound of the door is bashed down as Vannah White lets out a horrific scream over the wiretap. The sound of several police officers rushing into the house can be heard as they shout for the duo to put their hands up behind their heads and to submit which they have no choice but to oblige or risk certain death. It was all over as the general leaned over and shut off the audio tape]

''The war is over boys...''

[That's when a single man wearing army fatigues stands up, with rage in his eyes]

''Did you hear them!? They know about what happened to Kayla Rose... my sister!

[The general staring across the table at the determined military man shook his head side to side; those answers were bound to come later.]

''I'm sorry, kid but that really is the least of our worries right now. The city is in high alert and it's about time we restore order...''

''How so?'' [...another man calls out. The general postures up straight folding his arms across his chest]

''Easy, we beat answers out of Mr. Blackburn and dump the cure into the water supply. Everything reverts back to normal in the span of twenty four hours and it's mission complete...''

---

THE HEADQUARTERS; THE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR
ACT II

If there was anyone who understood what made a winning promo? It was moi!

Okay, so... maybe technically, there is no such thing as a winning promo. It's not like spending thousands of dollars on good lighting and audio equipment or having a remotely interesting life outside the wrestling ring has any barring on the outcome of a wrestling match. How stupid would something like that be?

Yeah, thought so. No doubt however is it a big part of in-ring psychology before you even step foot inside the ring and it does ultimately have a play into the outcome of the match (evidence; nobody who has failed to promo has gone on to win the match in APW history, 100% of the time). So, given this I have spent the last few days breaking down Sally Talfourds style and looking at what works and quite frankly, what doesn't.

I sure hope Level-One is going to take my sound advice to heart. How else am I going to make the best promo the entire world has ever laid their eyes upon!?

[Andrew Meltzer spins around in his chair as he see's Level-One spinning around with his large WOW collector sword. Andrew huffs as he rips the sword out of his hand and holds it to Level-One's neck]

''The Internets are serious business!''

[Andrew Meltzer removes the sword from Level-One's throat and tosses it to the side knocking several milk cartons off a shelve. This grabs Level-One's full attention as he plops his ass down in a chair beside Andrew Meltzer in-front of a computer screen.]

''Alright, so I found several problems with that last scene. I found kinda, well... lacking. There wasn't nearly enough Level-One present. Which makes the viewer ask the question... why do we care?''

''So, my promos need more me? I can't really disagree with that. You're fired...''

''Not sure if serious...''

[Level-One sighs as he rolls his eyes. Andrew Meltzer continues to exert his creative control regardless...]

''The thing about a Sally Talfourd promo is that she isn't off camera for more then like ten seconds...''

''Which apparently cures insomnia world wide...''

''Fair enough the point is, it obviously attributes to her success. So, what we'll do is just work double time. I want you to stare at the camera lens intensely for several minutes until we fulfil the ''star on camera'' official Sally Talfourd quota...''

[The camera zooms in on Level-One's face. He stares at the camera intensely for several seconds, before tilting his head to the left. Then right. The left. Then right. Once he's done, he proceeds to stroke his chin. Then he smiles. Then puts his hands on his hips. Bites his lips. Gyrates his hips. He then coaxes back in his chair striking a cool pose. He does his best to mix it up before becoming just bland and boring, so he leaves his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog does a car window]

''Perfect! The fans are going to just eat this up!''

''I don't know about you but I felt like a complete idiot doing all that.''

''An idiot who is going to be wearing the APW world championship at Rasslemania if he keeps this up! You want to win don't you? I know what I am talking about here! Sally Talfourd shoots some of the best promos around and it's my job to steal what works and implement it in our piece, okay?''

[Andrew Meltzer smashes a bunch of keys on his keyboard before turning back around to tend to his client]

''One more thing. You see something that Sally Talfourd does great is she keeps everything wrestling relevant. She doesn't spend time talking about her boring life; or her part-time job as hit man... none of that lame shit. Yet, a lot of this promo has been about... blah, you know?''

''Blah? I don't know about you but that was all very relevant to our match at Rasslemania!''

''Yeah, but not AS relevant as Sally Talfourd promo about your match at Rasslemania. I mean, she shot half of her promo at a house show... THAT IS HARDCORE WRASSLIN! I can't let her uber-so-freakin-awesome creativity outshine me, at least not at a event like this. You need to keep this super relevant okay?''

''So what do I do?''

''I don't know, just say her name...''

''Sally Talfourd... Sally Talfourd... Sally Talfourd...''

''Perfect. Now just keep that up, let's say... every two minutes? And we'll be A-okay!''

''I don't know about that, Andrew. I mean, sure... she might be great at what she does but how boring would it be if everyone did everything she did, the way she did it, all the time? That's not what the fans what to see and it's damn well not what they expect from me...''

[Andrew Meltzer sighs as he throws his hands up in the air]

''From now on, I don't want you to use the word she. She from now on is always, Sally Talfourd. Understood?''

''Well... no. Why?''

''Because she is a three letter word and Sally Talfourd is a... well, it's just sounds much longer and comes across more professional plus it fills up more film and makes us look that much more intimidating. You haven't said her name nearly enough in this promo and your running short on the quota...''

''Sally Talfourd, Sally Talfourd, Sally Talfourd...''

''You keep that up while I cue the super imposed CJ Gates photo. Cameos from other wrestlers you have no real relationship with is so... WIN!''

---

Truth, kills.

[The memories came flashing back to him all at once. Thousands of images of events he couldn't recall flashed right before his eyes while hundreds of voices beat his ear drums creating a chorus in his head that was loud enough to give him a migraine. While some of the voices he reconsideration was even more, he didn't. The never flowing memories eventually stopped and when opened his eyes he found himself standing a graveyard in-front of a tombstone with several fresh faces standing just feet behind him...]

''I'm sorry, Lester...''



Kayla Rose
1987- 2010
''For every life lost, two are replaced...''

[The rain poured. The thunderstruck. And the lightening did it's thing, too. Kayla Rose on this day, became one of his greatest inspirations... it's just a shame she had to give up her life, to do so.]

''He killed her. The bastard killed her just to ensure my head was straight for a stupid wrestling match with Sally Talfourd...''

''Who killed her, Lester? Lester, if you know anything about what happened you need to speak up about it right now. The police could use your leads to get this criminal off the street...''

[He looked up at the sky as the rain droplets pelted his face with a merciless assault. Kayla Rose was going to come clean about it all. She was going to expose Sally Talfourd as the opportunist blood sucking leech she was and come clean about her lies that were weighing heavy on her conscious and put an unnecessary strain on his relationship with Patricia. This was something Jason Blackburn couldn't allow. Those lies were the biggest motivation factors in beating Sally Talfourd at Christmas Chaos. Jason Blackburn felt there was no chance his client would regain his championship, without that anger. For him that meant no big payday and he was that much closer to having to hit the unemployment line and out of work...]

''Lester, are you okay?''

''I let this happen. This is all my fault...''

''Don't say that! That's horrible! What are you talking about?''

[Another scene plagues his mind on the spot. He can see himself walking down a long stretch of hallway, a day before his match with Sally Talfourd. He hears screaming and a struggle occurring, but as he approaches the door he receives a text message on his cellar phone that read]

From: President Jeff

''Where the hell are you? Running late, again? Press conference starts in a hour! Get here, ASAP!''

[He shrugs off the ruckus occurring in Kayla's room by chalking it up as nothing more then a domestic dispute. However, with each step he took away from the scene the larger what he describes as a stomach ulcer grew in the pit of his stomach...]

''Ladies and gentlemen, you are looking at your NEW APW world champion!''

[The words he spoke when he arrived on center stage of the pre match press conference in-front of a roaring crowd...]

''Lester!?'



''You remember?''

[Patricia asked. He nodded his head up and down as he looked up at the sky. The sun was shining bright. A slight breeze blew across his face and towards Patricia's giving flight to her long blond hair which flew in the wind. The chirping of the birds perched up in a nests above was enough to clear his migraine in seconds. This is what was beautiful. This is what he was missing all this time...]

''Yeah, I remember... but I don't think I want to go back, again.''

[Patricia Lewis wrapped her arms around the waist of her boyfriend as tight as she possibly could. With all due respect to Ms. Sally Talfourd; it felt better then the world APW championship, but she wouldn't understand...]

''The road to Rasslemania has been the craziest ride in my entire career...''

[He said seconds before she felt a jolt of pain. The look of Patricia's face quickly turned to one of uncertainty...]

''I think it's about to get a lot crazier, Lester...''


She was heading into labor.

THE HEADQUARTERS; THE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR
ACT III

So the city was saved and order was restored and the hero would live on to fight evil another day, blah, blah, blah! I can't handle this anymore! Ever since Level-One became all beloved and super hero ish I have been neglected and ignored! For the past week all I have heard about is how Level-One is going to beat Sally Talfourd or how Sally Talfourd is going to fend off Level-One (pftt; yeah right!) and NOT one word about the awesome promo I am going to put together! I am being slept on, disrespected and quite frankly, neglected!

I am the greatest goddamn blogger and film maker on the entire planet and it's about time the world begins to worship my greatness at the helm of the bottom of my sweaty feet! To; Ryan Ruckus side kick named the Smart Mark... I am better then YOU too dummy! That's why I am HERE in a Level-One promo and you're tagging a long Ryan Ruckus whenever he needs someone to slap around! Andrew Meltzer is the greatest thing since sliced bred, butter and that thing my mother uses it to spread it on that tasty bread of mine whenever she's allowed out of the kitchen!

You want to unsubscribe to me because of my chauvinistic remarks? Then go right ahead you traitors! I don't NEED you people anyways! I am tired of sucking up to my fan base just to collect a few extra dollars on AD revenue, anyways! After Rasslemania, I am going to be a STAR! Those who love me will and those who don't will hate me but you will be forced to choose between the two like Pepsi and Coke (because that no named brand stuff tastes like shit; yuck!) as I much rather be hated then IGNORED!

There is an old wrestling term. I believe smart mark calls it... HEEL!? Well guess what folks... I am officially making that turn! I'm cool. I'm new school. And I am going to be the Level-One of blogging before he decided to go soft on all of us!

And if you don't like that I have two words for you...

LOG-OFF!

[This time Andrew Meltzer is spun around not by his own will but by Level-One who clearly isn't impressed having just watched Andrew Meltzer type out his online tirade]

''There's no way, you're putting your little rants in my promo. You've gotten away with that bullshit for way too long, kid. There is much more important things we can do with that camera time...''

''Like what?''

[THE FOLLOWING RANT HAS BEEN CUT FROM THIS PROMO IN ORDER TO SAVE VALUABLE TIME. SORRY!]

''... and that's why Sally Talfourd will not win''

[Andrew Meltzer shrugs his shoulders]

''I am sure we can fit all that in somewhere without cutting out the best parts of this promo. Let's not get ridiculous, okay?''

''Wait. You actually believe that shit you wrote!? You believe you're the star of this production? I am wrestling in the main-event at Rasslemania, you're going to spend your time on that night—in your mothers basement trying to recap it play by play to a bunch of other nerds too cool to order the pay-per-view..''

[Public service announcement: Order the pay-per-view. Really, it's going to be AWESOME!]

''Hey, top admins around the world say my recaps are BETTER then the actual show. IMNSHO...''

''IMNSHO? What? Look, I am not even going to ask. The point is, you're going to need to really trim the fat on this one if we want to keep the peoples attention...''

''Fine!''

[Andrew Meltzer slams his fist across the keyboard which shuts down the program. Andrew Meltzer gasps in horror as he runs his hands through his hair.]

''I think we just lost everything...''

[Level-One leans over Andrew Meltzers scrawny shoulders and presses ctrl + Z on the keyboard causing the movie time line to return on screen. Andrew Melter is beside himself]

''Cool! I didn't know you could do that!''

''Really, Andrew? You use the computer more then I do...''

''Yeah but I use it mainly for other things...''

[Level-One closes his eyes and wipes his hands on his shirt as he backs away from the computer screen.]

''So, I'm guessing you losing an entire project has happened more then once?''

''All the time...''

''Well that explains why my promos don't hit the internet until last minute 90 percent of the time. You think you can help us out this time and get something up before Sally Talfourd beats us to the punch? I'd hate to leave her with nothing to work with...''


''Don't rush me. Greatness does not occur overnight!''

...

''DONE!''

[Andrew Meltzer grins ear to ear as he smashes the enter key on the keyboard as begins to upload the video on APW.com. Level-One looks at Andrew Meltzer in a panic...]

''How are you done? Where's the trash talk!?''

''You mean you didn't get that done already?''

[Face palms for everyone!]

''Goddamn it, Andrew! When have I EVER Trash-Talked at the begging of my promos?''

''Well, it's Rasslemania. I thought you were mixing it up, Mr. O-so predictable!''

''Aw, fuck me...''

---

Firefox- *Click*- hotmail.com- *Click*-

Headline reads; Level-One Vs. Sally Talfourd @ our pre-match predictions!

Headline- *click*- poll- *click*

''Oooooh, lookie here. Apparently, I'm winning with a percentage of 65% to 35%. Is it normal for the reigning champion to be down such a margin or does the world really hate and think that lowly of Sally Talfourd? Questions, questions, questions! Like will Sally Talfourd repeat the same thing, twice!? You bet!''


Update- New headline- Charlie Sheen... WINNING!

''What the fuck is a Charlie Sheen? And why did he just bump our asses off the front page!? You mean to tell me we aren't as big as stars as we think? Fuck...''

Scroll down- enter name- enter pass word- done and done. Login successful.

''Spam mail...''

*CLICK*

''More spam mail...''

*CLICK*

''Penis enlargement? Interesting, I should probably forward this to Sally Talfourd with the rest of my mail...''

Subject line: In regards to your APW world championship...
Sender: [e-mail]
Send to: [e-mail]/[e-mail]

Dear, Sally Talfourd...

I'm messaging you here because I am well aware you no longer read your fan mail account not only because you don't care too but because that junk folder is getting awfully empty on it's lonesome. I'm also writing to you because quite frankly, you don't deserve anything more at this point. And while I do have something special for the fans in preparation for this joyous occasion (Rasslemania) I figured I needed to do this for myself—for us—Sally.

I am writing to you because this way, there is no way you can twist my words. There is no way, you can pretend like you didn't hear what I said the first time. For these words will be engraved into your mind like it does this blank soon to be filled, page. These are words you can revisit days, months and years from now. You can recite them, you can write to them, hell...you can copy and paste and in the art of ''The Shadow Man'' you can even pretend these words are your own.

Though, it's also worth noting... that this message will also be received by every major newspaper around the country.

You thought about not clicking this message. You thought about ignoring it. And even when you opened it and promised yourself you wouldn't read past the headline, you lied to yourself because you're still here.

How can I be sure you're seeing this? Heh, besides the fact that you're reading this right now... I'd say it was merely because you simply cannot ignore me. I make you sick. I'm the reason you have that heavy feeling in your chest, the empty feeling in your stomach... the urge to peel over and puke. And while you see it as a grave insult; I see it as a compliment. The fact that I have been able to extract that much emotion from you should be commended...

As for you? You make me smile.

And that really eats away at you doesn't it, Sally? For the only constant between me and you isn't headlines and main events; it's hate and every synonym that goes along with it. We've both dealt a lot of pain to each-other. For you it was physical and for me it was emotional and in turn this dictated our performances on any given night no matter how much the professional within us wants to deny it...

As my hate for you grew; I forgot what it was to love. No longer was it about my beloved world championship... it became about Sally Talfourd. I was so fixated at the notion of making you pay, hurting you and trying to bank in on the insurance that you'd never wrestle another day of your life, that I forgot what really mattered; the APW world championship. I was under the impression that hurting you would equal championship gold... how fucking ignorant of me! That title isn't some trinket, it isn't a prize... it isn't equivalent to a head of a deer or a tongue of a snake that you stick up on a mantle in your living room for show. That title is why exactly you must hurt, your pain is nothing more then a byproduct of that title...

So simple; yet so beyond my mental palace.

One day, I took a look at myself in the mirror Sally and I didn't like what I saw looking back. At first, I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me but then I opened up my eyes. I tried to blame everything around me as if it was just bad lighting, but when I turned those lights off, I realized I really liked the dark. So in a last ditch effort, I smashed that fucking mirror six ways to Sunday and chalked it up as an illusion... a fun house I have stumbled into at the local fair who couldn't find his way out; but then came Monday and I realized that it was no illusion because on Tuesday, I had eight stitches put into my hand...

That shit hurt.

Though, I'm not a pussy and that isn't the morale of the story. The morale of the story is, it's about time you take a good long look at yourself in the mirror, Sally. And I don't mean that in the way that you apply your make up or string together your cute ring attires on a weekly, basis. I mean, you really take the time to look yourself in the mirror and see the two faced monster you've become. Hypocritical of me? Perhaps. After all, one Google search would bring up thousands results about the shit I have done in the past but that's just because I am a hell of a lot more honest, then you are...

However, I'm dealing with reality here and there isn't a chance you'll admit to your wrongs. You'll do exactly what I know best and merely make excuses for them. You won't look at your own reflection instead you'll throw smoke and mirrors in a feeble attempt of making me the subject of ridicule—uh... hello, dummy? You're going to recite the same lines from the play book I wrote!

In fact, I have already heard the mumblings from your camp. I'm well aware of your talking points before you even have a chance to issue them. You much like a small segment of my critics are hinting that because I am no longer beating people up backstage and running wild with steel chairs that somehow it's all part of a mind game, a big old conspiracy everyone seems to believe they see coming a mile a way, but only thing their a mile away from is the truth. This is no mind game. There is no conspiracy and what you see is what you get. However you Sally Talfourd much like the critics refuse to admit this to yourself because you dislike the notion of change...

For these same critics are still holding onto this ridiculous idea that you still have good intentions and that your recent outbursts are nothing more then a byproduct of my conspiratorial mind games against you. Proving that even when I go beyond my reach to prove that my intentions are pure; there's always going to be that critic holding onto the man I used to be four long years ago, all the while trying to justify your pathetic and despicable actions in attempts to portray you as innocent, loving and harmless... outside the ring, of course. Why? Well, that's just what sells in this day and age...

You may think that an audience full of fans chanting my name is what I wanted all along, but when exactly did I ever show it? In a way, I really did want the fans to cheer my name but I quickly found out the entire world isn't as wicked as you and I... at least not yet. Maybe one day, you'll have your way and be able to fool the fans into cheering for the girl who nails her two competitors across the skull under the guise of darkness; but to do so, millions would have to give their souls away to the devil...

I'm sure you thought you could do whatever you felt like because you were able to yank on the heartstrings of your fans to the point where they would sing your name in tune but now you just look foolish when you realized the fans aren't nearly as stupid as you are! I'm sure when you decided to show your true colours that everyone would continue to cheer from you because no matter how cruel or ruthless you had become, they'd always cheer you over the alternative of cheering me. You figured that the masses would do what they do every four years at the voting poll and ''vote'' for the candidate less likely to screw them in the ass a term down the road. Never once did you entertain the possibility of having your little paradigm shattered right before you...

Whoops. Did I flip the script on you, Sally?

Word has it that you've done nothing but stomp your feet and throw tantrums when you realized you're con game as falling apart right before your eyes. Never once did you entertain the possibility of the fans putting their hate for me aside long enough to cheer for me, especially amongst the presence of yourself. My ''Level-One fan campaign'' was probably met by laughter by you and your yes-man Shane for weeks on end but you aren't laughing anymore. Sally Talfourd fan clubs are shutting down by the dozens. Advertisers are pulling out; like daddy did to mommy, when they tried to avoid the big fat mistake, Sally—twenty something years ago! Anyone still behind you, aren't loyal but ignorant and stupid and will go down with ship, with the anchors tied around their ankles. You should really spare them the angst and tell them the truth...

You're done with them and they need to move on.

Still, I can't help but ponder why you've decided to turn your back on those who have supported you all this time. I can only estimate that your guilty conscious began to weigh in on you like that 12 pound slab of gold strapped around your shoulder does, temporarily. Well, at the very least—we can all expect something and not so predictable from Sally Talfourd. Maybe shedding your good girl image wasn't such a bad idea after all... if it means sparing us from another one of your BORING web casts.

...How much exactly do you play in bandwidth talking all the bullshit you do on a weekly basis, again?

Regardless due to the fact that I am a betting man; I figured I'd merely beat you to the punch and issue your talking points on my behalf. As we both can recall there isn't a single time when talking about me you've failed to bring up the past results of our matches as if they're still relevant today.

You see Sally, before you beat me and took my title; I was beating you to defend mine. So, given these basic facts; logic says, much like you were able to rebound off a loss and better yourself, I am able to as well. This revelation of ''improvement'' isn't exclusive to Sally Talfourd! If you for one split second believe that our past results have any barrings on our match to come... well, let's just say that split second will likely cost you the match when the referees sweaty hand slaps the bloodied canvas on our special night. Understood?

The fact is if you're so sure you're going to beat me at Rasslemania you should be absolutely elated you're defending against me; yet a week ago when you addressed CJ Gates and Blade in preparation for your match against them you claimed that you shouldn't have to defend the title at all...

LOL!

You may have a lot of talent, Sally; but you're the biggest twit the APW has seen in years! Your complete and utter disrespect not only for yourself but for the entire business as a whole can be summed up with that foolish notion, alone! You may know how to execute a few spinning head scissors and top rope moon-salts but you have no respect for the history or even the tradition of this sport. You're a horrible champion.

You can sit up on your pedestal and thumb your nose at me all you like; the facts cannot be ignored as they are confined to the history books, baby. Rasslemania is the biggest show in professional wrestling and yet you the current champion don't feel as if you should have to defend your title at such an occasion? I know you're trying to look all bad-ass and cool lately but even I was never ignorant enough to make ridiculous statements like these. You don't want to defend your title at Rasslemania? Well, then... maybe I can help you out by beating you now, so next year you won't have to worry about attending this pesky little event of ours... we here at the APW would hate to cramp your style, Sally.

Though, let's just be honest. We all know the REAL reason why you don't want to have to defend your title at Rasslemania especially against, moi! Although your victories were highly impressive... they were hardly decisive. The fans were left begging for more! And while you can argue that it ''should have'' been someone else to take my place; Rasslemania main-events aren't established by taking turns but instead who is the best man for the job! You fear that you won't have the strength to power through yet another war with me... you barely made it out of the first several battles alive, Sally. We're dealing with 50/50 odds here... and you don't like it when that pendulum swings.

Well, I love to see you sweat.

Why else do you think I'd hold you twenty feet in the air off the top turnbuckle? You may think I was looking to do damage but again just weeks away from Rasslemania why would I risk my health as well as your own? That title means very little to me if I can't win it the right way, anymore. I did what I did last week to strike fear in your heart. To show you that I do have the ability to take you out if I choose to do so and to show you while you maybe the top bitch here at the APW, you aren't in control. I can't imagine you liked being in that position being the self obsessed control freak you are...

I mean how about that reffing job you did several weeks ago? Even though you hated me so much, you couldn't help but disqualify the beautiful disaster when they accidentally took you out. I knew the odds were that at some point you'd get a little too close to the action wanting to be the centre of attention and that a disqualification victory was my only chance of victory. You couldn't live with yourself, if you counted the pin clean and gave me the victory I deserved. Why? Well, from your perspective—why would you? Why would you attribute to my win column that quadruples yours in size? Why would you give me an extra bounce in my step that is eventually going to be used to step over your body on the way to your title belt? Lastly, why would you ruin an opportunity to throw yet another loss in my face? The material you would have gotten from that upset would have propelled your motor mouth for several extra hours. Given all this... I'm sure you're kicking yourself in your shins right about now!

Little things like these add up and ultimately will equal your demise one day, Sally... and that day you fear is coming soon. Ever since you've been showing your true colours, I have been able to paint a map leading to victory a treasure trove right in your backyard!

It's exactly why I counted that pin right down the middle in your match with the Exchange Rate, Sally. I didn't do it because I like you. I didn't even do it because I am a nice guy. I did it because I had nothing to lose by feeding your already overgrown ego with a few more cancer cells. The more I can add to your delusion the more clouded your reality becomes. And I can openly tell you this because there's nothing you can do to change it. It's equivalent to daring you to throw this match because I don't think you have the guts too. You hate me so much that you'd love to go out of your way just to prove me wrong but in doing so, you lose far too much... so you go instead go into that match at Rasslemania with the desire to win.

You'll hold onto your delusions because it's all you have left.

That isn't my fault, Sally... that's yours. You abandoned your fan base; they came to me. You threw away all your allies and they've quickly become your enemies. Everything, you ever said about honour, respect and loyalty—I live by now; even if it means you refuse to die by them. The only thing you have left is the APW world title Sally. This means you're going to hold onto it as tight as you ever have and I am going to have to exert every last bit of my strength removing it from your paws come showtime but if I win the victory would be as sweet as ever...

And the loss you suffer would sting far sharper then any slip of the tongue you've conjured up.

And because of this... I truly ask you, why? You had the fans. You had the respect of your peers. You had the APW world heavyweight championship. Goddammit Sally... you had everything, I didn't. You claim you had to make a change but yet you won the world title doing everything you haven't done leading up to this match which only means one thing... it wasn't enough. The glory, the main-events, the APW world championship it simply isn't the pearl to your heart nor the apple of your eye... you feel as if there is something more. I know this because I felt it too.

It isn't until you lose everything until you realize that was it. That's as good as it gets.

As unimpressed as you were with your performance at Survive and Conquer the fact that you didn't win was just your way to misdirect your dissatisfaction with it all. I believe it was the realization that by winning the survive and conquer match you would have gotten one step closer to truly being fulfilled in this great sport. When in reality, victory would have only made you 500, 000 dollars richer... and still a miserable human being.

You were left embarrassed and red faced by what you saw as poor performance... but in a show of complete and utter disrespect for the APW world championship, you validated it by wanting to get revenge on the man who eliminated you. You couldn't eat, sleep or even think straight until you were able to redeem yourself. For anyone else, this type of response is warranted... from the APW world champion? This response is disgraceful. You actually felt that holding that belt wasn't enough to prove your superiority on it's own.. you felt as if 500, 000 dollars was the price you'd have to pay to validate yourself as APW world champion!

You can claim that it was about the competition but we all know this is lie. It was about your own ego... it was about getting even. You see, if it was about proving your status as the APW world champion you would have never been so eager to step in the ring with Terry Marvin but instead the man who one the entire thing, Ryan Ruckus. Yet, you made no challenge to Ryan Ruckus despite he ultimately proved to be the best on that night. It's all about your ego, Sally... and the belt straps to the APW world championship has and always will serve as the harness you use to hold that ego up...

Sally, if you really want to play the little game of; ''what have you done lately'' I'd think you'd find that leading up to this match the calibre of my performances are far more impressive then your own. I beat Ryan Ruckus to become the number one contender. I defeated the tag team champions, beautiful disaster. And if I recall, I also remember leading my team to victory against yours prior to our match. This notion that you are so much better then me doesn't even hold up by your OWN criteria!

Sally, you maybe able to convince a bunch of low grade morons still cheering you on that you have what it takes to beat me again but in reality, too much has changed since then. We've both have a history of besting each-other. You yourself would admit this. And yet, time after time... day after day... promo after promo, you still hold onto our past in attempt to prove that you are the future. Your efforts are appreciated by all, Sally... but mocked by most. We don't care about what you DID do at Christmas Chaos. We care about what you WON'T do at Rasslemania...

If there is anyone who has the right to hold onto visions of the past, it's me. For even with your APW world championship win and the countless main-events you've graced; there's still years upon years of work you're going to need to put in before you can even reached my status in this sport. Of course, you are far too lazy and not nearly as hungry as you should be and would rather take a short cut by inflating your accomplishments to make them larger then they really are, instead.

I have been beaten. And through these losses, perhaps the allure of the once great unbeatable Level-One has vanished into thin air... but that's the beauty of it all. I AM just a human. The fact that everyone else saw me as something much more is just a testament to the great things, I have accomplished in this sport. An allure that unfortunately Sally, you'll never have. I have coped with the fact that ever since I have been dethroned, I'll never be seen as a demigod in this sport again... but that's fine because all along, it was nothing more then an illusion.

A illusion I too...can finally see past.

For the first time in years I can finally live up to my full potential because for the first time in my life; I am truly free. I am no longer bound by any outrageous expectations. There is no image I need to live up to. I'm finally satisfied with everything I have accomplished in this sport...

I could retire today and still walk out on top.

The fact that you can't do this, speaks volumes, Sally. Though, you need not to worry one bit. I won't be retiring, anytime soon.

I still have an APW world championship to win, Sally.

While I can truly say I WANT this more then you, I can't say I NEED this more then you. In terms of needs, the APW world championship is all you have left. On my road to Rasslemania; I feel as if I picked up several championships a long the way, that'll be with me for the rest of my life.

Your trip to Rasslemania was paved by short cuts. You swerved, weaved and outright cut people off to get where you are today in your brand new hot pink convertible. The only problem is? Eventually, it doesn't how long you get away with driving reckless—you will crash. And that colour on that convertible of yours, will eventually fade the paint job, ruined. As you stand at the finishing line... win or lose the outcome to you finally will prove to be unimportant once and for all...

...because either way, you can't take that title belt to hell with you.

I wish I could find it in my heart to save you. To slap you across the face, shake you from your slumber and tell you all about my dance with the devil but I can't...

I'm just a hypocrite.

As great as my accomplishments are; they are foreshadowed by my past. You want to do everything I have accomplished in this sport and so... you've tried to take my persona on. Here I am; talking down to a little girl who reminds me of the little boy, in me.

Here I am... trying to destroy the monster I helped create.

Sincerely,

The blueprint.

Send-*Click*-X-*Click*-Logout-*Click*

There's a pause and then...

''Fuck you''

is handwritten across the screen, in purple. Before it fades out and the best fucking promo ever courtesy of Andrew Meltzer and company...comes to a close.