The scene opens to show the interior of a gym. An array of exercise machines, such as exercise bikes and cross-trainers can be seen, but the camera is focused on a treadmill, or more specifically, on the person that is using this particular treadmill: Simon Jones; Simon is wearing a grey t-shirt, navy blue shorts and a pair of black trainers. Stood the other side of the treadmill, watching on as Simon exercises at a walking pace, is Jason O'Neil, who is wearing a green t-shirt, black shorts and back trainers; as he continues with his exercise, Simon turns his head to look at Jason, and is the first to speak.
Simon: 'Did we really have to come here to do this - couldn't we have just gone for a walk outside? We would've have gotten to see some much better scenery that way.'
Jason: 'Yes, we could have done that, but once the walk was finished, we would then have ended up coming here anyway; I didn't bring you here solely so that you could make use of a treadmill - once you've covered enough distance, you'll need to lift some weights, just as you would normally, if you weren't currently recovering from a knee injury.'
Simon: 'And what about you - aren't you going to have a work out? I assume that you didn't put those clothes on just so that you would look the part.'
Jason: 'Don't you worry about me, my main concern here is you, and monitoring you for any set backs in your rehabilitation - I can't keep an eye on you if I'm over the side of the gym.'
Jason turns his head to the right to watch as a blonde girl, wearing a sleeveless pink top and charcoal capri pants, walks past.
Jason: 'Besides, there are some pleasant sights here to be had.'
Simon shakes his head and laughs, before then turning his head away from Jason, to look straight ahead; Jason then turns back to Simon.
Jason: 'How's the knee holding up? Any pain?'
Simon: 'None at the moment.'
Jason: 'Do you feel like you could increase the pace, maybe to a jog, or even a run?'
Simon: 'I don't think I've reached the stage yet where I can go any quicker than a brisk walk - I still feel some discomfort if I try to go up the stairs quickly.'
Jason responds with a sarcastic tone of voice.
Jason: 'So I shouldn't think about seeing if I can get you into the Berlin Marathon at the end of the month as a late entry, then.'
Simon: 'Me run a marathon? At present I couldn't even run a bath.'
Jason chuckles.
Jason: 'How about this Sunday though? Are you going to be fit enough to fight Casey Williams? Because that's what it's likely to be Simon - a fight.'
Simon: 'Oh, I'm sorry, did you not see what happened this past weekend, when I pinned the current SCW Heavyweight Champion?'
Jason: 'I'm well aware of what happened. And I believe you would've defeated Goth, even if Kain hadn't felt the need to wander out to ringside. But while Goth is arguably a better wrestler than Casey is, he's also a better match-up for you as an opponent, physically. I mean, Goth is bigger than you are, but Casey Williams is over half a foot taller than Goth, and weighs over one hundred pounds more than him - Casey is going to pose a whole different challenge for you than Goth did.'
Simon: 'Once you've gotten your opponent down on the mat, they're all the same size.'
Jason: 'Yeah, well, getting Casey Williams off his feet is going to be easier said than done. You know, I thought you had paid attention to what Spike Staggs had to say to you the other week, but you apparently chose to ignore the part where he told you that picking a fight with the biggest guy on the roster was career suicide - what's the matter, didn't Casey rough you up enough the first time?'
Simon turns his head to look at Jason again.
Simon: 'Don't you think that I can beat him?'
Jason: 'Look, I know the talent that you possess, and I know what you're capable of - I've seen you take down opponents considerably larger than you on previous occasions, but on none of those occasions were you carrying an injury. Now though, not only are you carrying an injury, you're going to be stepping into the ring with the very same man that caused you that injury.'
Simon: 'Put yourself in my shoes: if it had been you that was on the receiving end of Casey's attack, rather than me, can you honestly tell me that you wouldn't have wanted to get him in the ring? Can you look me in the eyes and say that?'
Jason shakes his head.
Jason: 'No Simon, I can't.'
Simon: 'You know me, Jason - I don't like to hold a grudge. And I accept that I provoked Casey into attacking me, by opening my mouth, but after what he did to me, I need to get some sort of retribution.'
Jason: 'I can empathise with that, I just think that perhaps should have waited a few more weeks before throwing out a challenge to him.'
Simon: 'You mean until my knee is fully healed?'
Jason: 'Yes, partly, but also until the situation surrounding the heavyweight title becomes a little clearer - after having pinned Goth, you know that you have to be under consideration as a potential challenger for the title at High Stakes III. But should you lose to "The Freight Train of Pain," that would be likely to derail your championship aspirations - pun intended - for the immediate future at least.'
Simon: 'As I said last Sunday when I made the challenge, it's partly because of the title that I want this match with Casey: when he made his presence known in ACW, he said that he had been starved of opportunities to become the Heavyweight Champion in SCW. Well, if he can defeat me - a former SCW Heavyweight Champion - then he'll make everyone in SCW sit up and take notice. But if he loses, then he'll need to accept that, as things stand, he doesn't deserve a shot at the title.'
Simon turns his head, before reaching forwards with his right hand to press a button on the console, which causes the belt of the treadmill to slow to a stop; Simon then turns around, gets off the treadmill, and steps towards Jason.
Simon: 'And as I said to you last week, Jason, I'm not going to Climax Control to survive the contest, I'm going there to try to win.'
Jason: 'Casey is no slouch in the ring, Simon, you know: he's a former tag team champion, and a former roulette champion - given the chance, he could have been the first triple crown winner in SCW history, not Goth.'
Simon nods his head.
Simon: 'I know, Jason.'
Jason: 'Well, whatever the outcome of the match on Sunday, at least you won't be limping down to the ring this time.'
Simon smiles.
Simon: 'Yeah, that's true.'
As Simon glances down at his left knee, the scene fades to black.
The scene opens to show Simon Jones, visible only from the waist up, in front of a wall that is painted white. Simon, whose head is turned to his left, away from the camera, is wearing the same grey t-shirt from earlier, although it is now damp from sweat, with sweat also evident on his hair; Simon turns his head to look directly at the camera, and begins to speak.
Simon: 'There's only a few days left now until Climax Control, which will see me competing inside the six-sided ring once more. I've not long finished my work out for the day, as I continue my recovery from my knee injury, and as I continue my preparations for my match this Sunday, when I'll be up against Casey Williams - the man that was responsible for me suffering that injury. But I'm not here to talk about that match now - my mouth has already gotten me in enough trouble with Casey - there's something else that is on my mind.'
Simon rubs his chin.
Simon: 'I've become aware of an accusation that some people - or perhaps it is just someone - think I lack charisma. Now, why is that? Is it because I don't chase after anything in a skirt, like some of my contemporaries? I'm happily married, to a wonderful woman that I've been with for over a decade. Maybe it's because you don't hear any tales of drunken exploits involving me - at present I'm refraining from drinking, having promised my pregnant wife that I would give it up, although only until she gives birth, and can herself then get reacquainted with alcohol.'
Simon sighs.
Simon: 'I realise that, away from the ring, you don't get to see that much of me. And when you do, I'm usually either sat in front of a camera, or stood in front of a camera, talking about a subject related to wrestling. You never, for example, see me performing magic tricks, like Gabriel - but then, I can't even juggle.'
Simon smirks.
Simon: 'Oh, and I apologise to any magicians that I my have offended by referring to them as "tricks," rather than illusions.'
Simon runs his right hand through his damp hair.
Simon: 'So no, you won't see me pulling a rabbit out of a hat, or doing anything along those lines - if you want to see a performance from me that will leave you astounded, you need to watch what I do inside a wrestling ring. But there is another side to me that I can show you, and it's something that I'm going to show to you now. One thing that I've regularly had positive comments about, from people who know me, is my sense of humour; I even once had a teacher - in a school report written around two and a half decades ago - praise my dry sense of humour, although I was too young at the time to be able to appreciate the meaning of her remark.'
Simon shrugs his shoulders.
Simon: 'Don't get me wrong, I was never headed for a career in stand-up comedy. But a few years ago - back when I was doing the job that I left to return to wrestling - I did get to do a routine on stage, if only for a couple of minutes. You see, within a matter of weeks of me having started that job, the company held it's AGM. And that year, as part of the AGM, the decision was made to have an office talent show. Now as I just said, I'd only been in the job a handful of weeks at the time, but I'd already made enough of an impression on some of my colleagues that they insisted that I put myself forward to participate - I was initially reluctant, but after finding some Dutch courage, I opted to go along with it. So here now, for you all to see, is a recording that I have managed to obtain, of my part in that talent show; enjoy.'
The scene switches to show a stage, stood on which is an overweight man, with balding dark hair, who is wearing a white shirt, grey trousers and brown shoes; he is holding a microphone in his right hand, and is looking towards the right of the shot. A polite round of applause can be heard, as into view, from the right, walks Simon Jones, who is wearing a sky blue shirt, black trousers and black shoes, and is holding an open bottle of Budweiser in his right hand; he walks over to the other man, who passes him the microphone, which Simon takes with his left hand. Simon then turns to look in the direction of the camera and raises the microphone to his mouth.
Simon: 'Sorry, just excuse me for a moment, please.'
As Simon turns his back to the camera, he swaps the microphone to his right hand, clutching it together with the bottle of beer. With his left hand, Simon reaches into the pocket of his trousers and pulls out a mobile phone, which he lifts up and holds by his ear; Simon then raises the microphone to his mouth, so that the pretend phone conversation that follows can be heard by everyone.
Simon: 'Hey, it's me. Look, I'm having second thoughts about this, I don't think it's going to work...because the room's full of Welsh people...yeah, I could hear them all talking beforehand, not a single English accent amongst them; I'm in a minority of one...well, it's the capital city of Wales, what did you expect?...are you sure about this?...alright then mate, if you're sure, I'll try it anyway. Bye.'
Simon places the phone back into his pocket, and as he turns around to face the camera, he swaps the microphone back into his left hand. He then steps towards the front of the stage and grins, before lifting the microphone up to his mouth.
Simon: 'Don't you just hate the Welsh?'
The first laughter can be heard; Simon, still grinning, waits a few seconds before continuing.
Simon: 'I am of course joking, I love the Welsh. I think the thing that I love the most about the Welsh is that you embrace being called sheep shaggers - you've taken this term, which is meant by the English as an insult, and you've turned it around in your favour. I'm from Birmingham - as you might be able to tell from my accent - and before I came to Cardiff, whenever I told any of my friends where I was moving to, without hesitation, their response would be, "sheep shaggers." When I watch Birmingham City play Cardiff City, during the match you'll hear Blues fans shouting "sheep shaggers" at the Cardiff fans, as though it's the most original taunt that anyone has ever thought up. But as soon as Cardiff take the lead, their fans begin to chant "one nil to the sheep shaggers." And I think that's great - except for the fact that my team is losing. So yeah, I love the Welsh - I mean, with a name like Jones, how can I not love the Welsh?'
Simon lifts up the bottle of Budweiser, which he then drinks from; after finishing his drink, Simon keeps his eyes fixed on the bottle, as he moves it away from his mouth.
Simon: 'That's another bottle finished.'
Simon bends down and places the bottle on the stage, by the side of his right foot.
Simon: 'I'll tell you who I really hate though: the police. The police are useless. I was mugged a few weeks ago, and they've still not done anything about it. But thinking back to when it happened, it's surprising the number of things that the mugging had in common with the first time I had sex: it was late at night; I was drunk; there were three of them - they were women, before any of you start to wonder; and when it was all over, I had no money left.'
Simon takes a step backwards, but as he does so, he knocks over the bottle that was by his right foot; Simon turns his head to watch as the bottle rolls towards the back of the stage.
Simon: 'I knew I'd lose my bottle.'
Simon turns back towards the camera.
Simon: 'I'll pick that up later. Anyway, speaking of things that are useless, I'm certain I can't be alone in thinking that most of the things that you see on offer on a petrol station forecourt are useless, or at least, useless to someone that is buying petrol. I was leaving Merthyr recently - as most people do - and on the forecourt of a petrol station there, they were selling bird-tables.'
Simon then speaks with a sarcastic tone.
Simon: 'Because, the number of times that I've gone to pay for petrol and said, "Yeah, I'd like to pay for my petrol; and I'll take a packet of chewing gum too. And give me a bird-table. No, in fact, give me two - I've got a friend who wants one."'
Simon shakes his head before continuing.
Simon: 'Also, is it just me, or should petrol stations stop adding to the list of options for the car wash? Because who are they trying to kid - there aren't really that many different ways to wash a car. All you really need is an option that says, "get the bird shit off my bonnet;" my car looks like a pair of seagulls underpants, if you could do something about it without smearing it all over the windscreen, I'll be happy.'
Simon takes a quick glance to his right.
Simon: 'Well, I think it's time for me to exit the stage, before I overstay my welcome. Although, before I leave, I hear that women like men with a good sense of humour, so ladies, if you like what you've heard, you can find me on the third floor of the office. But now, it really is time for me to go, so I hope that you all enjoy the rest of your evening.'
Another round of applause, louder than before can be heard; the scene then reverts to show Simon in front of the white wall.
Simon: 'For the record, I've never paid for sex. And also, I didn't win the talent contest. But that's okay, because it's my talent in the ring that is the key to me being successful in my career as a wrestler - on Sunday, I'll put that talent on display, when I take on another man with a Welsh surname, in Casey Williams; see you all in Saint Lucia.'
As Simon stares at the camera, the scene fades to black.
