The Troll wanders the street just outside of Copenhagen's Hotel Touche, the place of respite reserved for him for this his first appearance what is affectionately coined as "the City of Spires". He had been contacted weeks ago to clear his schedule (HA!) to better ensure that he could have his passport at the ready for his economy flight to Denmark. Of course he had been reserved a First Class ticket but when he had arrived at the airport, the stupid airline had made some grievous error and downgraded his flight to the worst of the worst. Stuck between a crying baby and a fat nun.

The Troll was a first believer that fat people should have to pay double for their flights - no questions asked. It was just a common courtesy for those around them. And kids shouldn't be allowed on airlines - AT ALL!

Still, the Troll took everything in stride - as he was just that sort of gallant warrior, willing to go to great lengths to satisfy and entertain ALL of his fans aka his peeps. Even having the taxi drop him off at the hotel by almost a block and forcing him to heft his heavy luggage the remainder of the way there, passing several stoners who were practically out cold on the hotel's doorstep, stoned out of their collective minds. Not to mention the bevy of international hookers who were hanging out on the corners of the building and nearby lampposts, looking to score an easy buck for a night's work.

As the Troll neared, one such 'lady of the evening' took notice of his approach. Average-looking, she had a medium build and a natural appearance; her features neither striking nor unusual. Her hair was left to fall around her shoulders, and she wore light makeup. She was wearing a mini skirt that ended above the knee, paired with a simple blouse tucked in. She stood upright and approached the now gaping, wide-eyed Troll with her hips swaying to and fro, until she stopped short.

She looked him up and down and sneered.

Prostitute: Ved nærmere eftertanke ville jeg hellere sulte for natten!

Turning her back to the Troll and walking back to her post. The Troll frowned, not knowing what she just said but knowing well enough it wasn't an offer to rock his world.

The Troll: Oh yeah!? Well I'm disease free and I'm happy to stay that way!

And right on cue, every 'prostitueret' turned their heads as one and glared at him, prompting him to swallow hard and hurry thru the doors of the hotel as quickly as he could manage.

The Wisdom of the Troll

The camera turns on for this the latest podcast of the (in)famous Troll, as his rotund face filled the camera. he sat back and he was in his hotel room right here in Copenhagen. The small hotel room was cramped behind him. The dim, overhead yellow light cast a tired glow over faded, mismatched furniture. A single bed behind him sagged in the middle, its linens thin and questionably clean. The air smells faintly of mildew, and the tiny window barely overlooked a noisy alley. In the corner, a miniature TV from another decade flickered with poor reception. There was a sense that everything needed a good scrubbing - or a replacement.

The Troll shook his head.

The Troll: I swear to God, the things I go through to bring a bit of joy and light into the world around me. You peeps would not believe what Mark Ward and Christian Underwood have been putting me through ever since they called me and practically begged me to be a part of probably the most forgettable tour in this promotion's sad little history. I mean, even that haunted locations tour was more memorable than this and that is saying something! But I said yes, because that's just the sort of good-natured soul that I am. And how do they thank me?

He held up his hand and counted off on his pudgy fingers.

The Troll: By LETTING my flight reservations get changed. By booking me in a hotel that would make the worst in the states look like a five star resort! I mean, I thought this place was supposed to be quaint and fun but staying in this pig stye is like camping out in a dumpster - at least the raccoons are tidy and the food's better! So I have a bone to pick with the bosses and you know who I'm going to take it out on? The new 'golden boy' of SCW! Jayden Harris!

The Troll sneered.

The Troll: Jayden Harris, I don't know what else that I can say to you that the world hasn't shouted in your face already. Your clearly unwashed hair looks like it’s been through a tornado and came out with a personal vendetta against combs. Even wild animals would think twice before making a nest in that mess! You look like a human spaghetti noodle with a bad sense of style and a chest hair pattern that could only be described as a failed road map. But hey, at least it looks like you groom the hair on your upper body better than you do that rat's nest on your ugly head!

I tell you! This is going to be my easiest win ever! Jayden, watching you try to fight is like seeing a toddler swing at a piñata—lots of flailing, zero coordination, and everyone just feels sorry for you. And after I'm done with you, they'll feel worse for you than they did after that Looney Tune Vincent Lyons did to you at the Elimination Chamber! Count on it!

The Troll extended a hand and with one digit, turned off his laptop and the screen went black.

The camera flickers on and rather than the usual set up in the basement of his Mother's house in relative Parts Unknown, we are instead "treated" to a rare public appearance of sorts of the Man himself. The shot is a closeup shot of the Troll's pudgy kisser, or rather, his nose, until it draws back and we get his round face staring into the camera with a faux sense of annoyance and disdain.

The Troll: Yo! You know who this is; it's me. Your boy the Troll. Now I was prepared to grace you all with my usual presence in my set up back home because that's where the people love to see me, but I had a task that I just couldn't get out of and so I decided that I was going to...

Mother: GABRIEL!!!

The Troll closes his eyes and exhales sharply at the timely interruption of his Mother, wherever she might be.

The Troll: Yes Ma?

Mother: What do you think of this one? Isn't it precious!?

The Troll: It's fine, Ma! Let's take it and go!

Mother: YOU DIDN'T EVEN LOOK!!!

The Troll rolls his eyes and turns his head to look off in the direction his mother must be and he immediately frowned and wrinkled his nose.

The Troll: No, Ma! Christ!

Mother: What's wrong with it!?

The Troll: It looks like a dirty piece of brillow with legs!

Mother: Oh for the love of... What a terrible thing to say!

As his Mother goes on about her business, the Troll does the same.

The Troll: My Ma got it into her head that she needs a dog for additional company... I know! Like I'm not enough??? Me, her baby boy! But apparently when I go on the road for SCW and she's not up for tagging along, she wants some smelly animal that licks itself for company. If she wanted that, she could hang out with Old Lady Agnes and her Garden Club down the street! But... she's my Ma and despite what some people think or say, I take care of her! So... I brought her here.

He turns his camera around and now we see that we are located at the local 'No Kill' animal shelter. Several dogs have been brought out from the back where the kennels are kept and into this socialization room to meet prospective adoption 'parents'. Many a dog was wandering around of all ages, shapes and sizes. From German shepherds puppies to a grown Labrador Retriever and everything else in between, the dogs were a bundle of nerves meeting prospective parents.

The camera turns back around to the Troll's face.

The Troll: Yeah, yeah! I can hear it already from all of my critics and the so-called experts who make it difficult for those of us who really do know everything about anything! And I can especially hear  it from that old man they have me scheduled against this weekend! "Bulldog" Bill Barnhart! The Golden Ghoul of Professional Wrestling! Well, let me make things divinely simple for all you simple minded people who don't "get me" like my peeps do....

Mother: GABRIEL! What about THIS one???

The Troll turns his head again and does a double take.

The Troll: No, Ma! It's fur is too long and it has no tail!

Mother: So!?

The Troll: So you can't tell if you're kissing its nose or its...

Mother: GABRIEL WANK!!

The Troll winces and he returns to his video feed.

The Troll: As I was saying, there is nothing symbolic going on here with my standing in a kennel and my opponent being some old mutt that is heading toward the Green Mile. Ready to be put down. All of this...? Is just pure, dumb luck. Which is just what my old man opponent is going through, getting this match in the first place. I admit I'm a bit insulted that they booked me against this washed up, old man to earn my way into the big Elimination Chamber, rather than just give me the spot that I rightly deserve! But you know the old saying: A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. And I plan to beat the Bulldog as quickly as possible, take my rightful spot and put Barnhart out to pasture at the Daisy Hill Puppy Farm or wherever old dogs go to live out their remaining years. And then... I am going to win it all against those other losers and take my rightful World Heavyweight...

Mother: Gabriel!

The Troll huffs.

The Troll: Yes, Ma?

Mother: I found the perfect little puppy to join our family!

The Troll: Great, Ma! Sign the paper work and let's go home!

Under the Bridge
Wisdom of the Troll

The Troll sits there in front of the camera, a sour expression on his face and the bulldog puppy in his lap. The puppy just staring up at him.

The Troll: Not. A. Word!

Immediate close up of the Troll’s face as the camera for his vlog is turned on and he sits back in his comfortable yet outdated desk chair that has seen better days. Behind him is a red, white and blue banner adorned with the words, "TRUMP - 2024". He is wearing his MAGA red cap on top of his scalp. He leans back, the picture perfect example of cocky confidence with his hands clasped on his belly and fingers interlaced together.

The Troll: January 6! You get where I'm coming from, Peeps? That's how long it's been since you're boy...

He does the RVD thumbs gesture...

The Troll: The Troll ... has graced your screens and stepped inside of the six-sided ring for the entertainment of the world! Not that I needed SCW, but it's sad to see Ward and Underwood stop acknowledging the fact that SCW needs me. You would think there was some shame in admitting the fact that you need help, and it's painfully clear that SCW needs mine. I mean, have you seen the men's division... Oh, sorry.

He makes sarcastic hand gestures with an annoyed expression on his face.

The Troll: 'Superstars division'! It's about as pitiful as the mixed tag team division! The tag team titles had promise and there were a bunch of teams ready to push that division to the stratosphere but then the Wolves of Isengard won the straps and that about killed the division due to lack of interest. Now *I* had considered stepping up and dethroning those two yahoos of the titles and bring some actual meaning back to the division but I really don't feel like shouldering an entire tag team all on my own. Which brings me to my dilemma about my match in Sweden or Denmark or wherever I'm supposed to be going to bring some culture and class to this train wreck of a tour.

He sighs and massages the bridge of his nose.

The Troll: Here I am, getting a contract in the mail to go overseas and I'm stuck in a six man tag team match! Teaming me with two losers like Justin Smith and the Bulldog is bad enough! I mean, I can handle it if I have to. I just shouldn't have to! As captain of the team, I'll just have to take charge and dictate who does what. But putting us against THOSE THREE...? I mean, are you kidding me!?

I mean, take Kevin Carter for example. The Entity? Seriously? You had to hide under a mask to create interest around yourself? I suppose I can understand that because there sure wasn't any interest behind your name to begin with. Did anyone really even notice when he left the first time? And now here he is again, latching himself onto the reputations of two guys who are MARGINALLY better inside of the ring but even that is setting the bar pretty low.

After all, we are talking about a team involving Alexander Raven. The guy is mediocre at best. Normally a guy that gets started in this business evolves and betters himself. Not Raven. if anything, that guy has devolved. He's as bad today if not worse than when he first signed on to SCW. I mean, with all the hype he surrounds himself with, you'd have thought he'd be World Champion by now but what has he done lately? Roulette Champion?

He shakes his head and makes that pitying clucking sound with his tongue.

The Troll: And then I suppose we save the best for last, if there is such a thing with this team. J2H. The guy who just can't let go of the past. Yeah, he holds the record for the longest title reign in the history of SCW. But I got news for you, James! That was EIGHT YEARS ago! Yet every time the man shows his face, he has to remind the world what he did EIGHT BYEARS ago -- just to stay relevant! J2H has to surround himself with other - and not necessarily better - talent, just to stay relevant in this business. I mean, this is the first time since those jokers formed their version of the Three Stooges that he's deigned to step inside of the ring. Until now, he's been just fine standing there on the sidelines and watching Kevin and Raven do all the work while he soaks up the adulation. You know why?

The Troll beckons us closer with a wag of his finger. He leans in.

The Troll: It's because J2H is scared. Scared his skills have all atrophied. Scared he's past it. J2H is just. Plain. Scared!

**BOOM!** **BOOM!**

Mom: GABRIEL!!!

The Troll sighs and closes his eyes for a moment...

The Troll: Yeah, Ma!?

Mom: Have you found out yet when our plane leaves for Sweden!?

The Troll: Tomorrow morning, Ma! Remember? You got Business Class!

Mom: I know, and it was so sweet of my baby boy to indulge his mother like that! Now I'm going to make dinner! How does meatloaf sound?

The Troll visually cringes.

The Troll: Sounds... great, Ma!

Mom: Okey dokey! Be ready in a couple hours!

The Troll looks down and directly into the camera.

The Troll: Okay I want to know who out there invited my Mom on this trip AND upgraded her to Business Class!?

The opening shot is nothing but darkness. That is, at least, until the cap for the video camera is removed and promptly dropped on the floor with a clatter…

The Troll: Whoop, hold on.

The Troll leaned down out of view from where he sat in his amateur studio in the basement of the house he lived in with his mom. The Troll then sat upright and tossed the lens cap to the surface of his studio desk, calmly leaning back in his chair with a smug grin on his face. That is until he almost tilted too far backwards and he quickly caught himself.

The Troll: I meant to do that, you know. So…!

He nods graciously to the viewer(s) watching this (en)grossing web broadcast, clasping his pudgy fingers together on the edge of the desk.

The Troll: My Peeps! You of course know me as YOUR Champion!

The Troll reached off camera and picked up his Troll Championship belt and set it front and center in front of the camera. He then held up two fingers.

The Troll: Two months! That is how long it’s been since your boy has been allowed to grace everyone with his presence inside of the ring! Give or take a week! And on one hand, I can understand why Mark Ward and Christian Underwood waited until now before bringing me in to show all of these pantywaists how a real man competes inside of the ring. Too much of a good thing, y’know? They don’t want to make my in-ring appearances a weekly thing and water down the Highest Rated Superstar in Sin City Wrestling history. That just wouldn’t be fair to the plebians who tune in to see some excitement in my name and are instead forced to settle for second best like Miles Kasey and Alexander Raven and Malachi… oh wait. I sent that loser packing. Never mind! But this week? This week I was not going to take no for an answer. This match…

He jabbed his fat finger onto the desk, then into his own sternum.

The Troll: This was all my idea! I demanded this match against Justin Decent because that loser has been wasting too much airtime every week! He thinks he’s so pretty and all the girls adore him, well let me tell you something! Just because that girly man holds a win over the luckiest World Champion in SCW history - and yes I am talking about YOU - J2H! Justin thinks he can kick back every week and waste everyone’s time calling the introductions to the matches. Why is this such a bad thing? You say the man is just doing his job?

The Troll scoffed.

The Troll: If that was true, someone tell the man to put a shirt on and to stop wearing Lycra pants the world can see his pulse through! I am GLAD to have this Hardcore opportunity to teach him that he is not the star of the show! I am! And I am going to beat him down until…

**THUD!** **THUD!** **THUD!**

And there was the tell-tale sound of you-know-who!

Mom: GABRIEL!

The Troll groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose in faux annoyance.

The Troll: Yeah, Ma!?

Mom: Are you ready to take me shopping!?

The Troll: In just a minute Ma! I’m telling my Peeps about my match this weekend against Justin Decent!

Mom: Justin Decent…? Sweety! I told you to wipe the ketchup off of your contract! It’s Justin Smith you’re wrestling!

The Troll: Justin … Smith…? That really old dude who carries around a beer can!?

Mom: And the Singapore cane!

The Troll’s eyes widen and his skin pales.

The Troll: Singapore cane…?

Mom: You’re going to make your mommy proud, like always! Now hurry up and change your clothes so we can go to the store!

The Troll: Why do I need to change my clothes???

Mom: Because we’re going to Target! It’s not like we’re going to Wal-Mart or something! Target is classy!

The Troll turned and stared into the camera and mouthed ‘classy?’ before the camera switched off.

Immediate closeup of the Troll’s face as the camera for his vlog is turned on and he sits back in his comfortable yet outdated desk chair that has seen better days. He leans back, the picture perfect example of cocky confidence with his hands clasped on his belly and fingers interlaced together.

The Troll: Hey, yo! It’s your boy, da Troll! Funny way to kick things off this time around, isn’t it?

He scrunches up his face and shakes his head in the negative.

The Troll: It’s really not. You see, the Golden Girls is one of those overrated sitcoms from the worst era of television history - the eighties. Still, it is a piece of history and I have to admit my mom watched the reruns every day on her television. It’s really nice to see her enjoy something and get her well deserved laughs in. She gets her Golden Oldies on the television, but me? I get mine inside of the ring apparently. I mean…

He rolls his eyes quite brazenly.

The Troll: “Chronic” Chris Page? I mean, seriously? Who pissed in the Cheerios of the matchmakers this time around and why am I being the one made to suffer for it? Okay, it wouldn’t be the FIRST time that I stepped inside of the ring with the Golden Girls of SCW - or in this case, I suppose it’s the Golden Guys. I mean…

He holds up a hand and starts counting off of his chubby sausage-like digits.

The Troll: “Bulldog” Bill Barnhart. Fugly as he is, he’d have to be Blanche because he’s always going about lying about his age and thinking he’s all that. Mac Bane? He’s Dorothy, because he acts all big and tough but back him into a corner like I did and he becomes a blubbering, whiny mess who deep down is really just a scared little girl. “Godly” Ken Davison is tied with Matthew “the Raven” Knox on  the old, senile one of the group … Sophia? Which brings us, of course, to “Chronic” Chris Page who is the dumb one of the group - Rose. Now he has shown a bit of brain s now and again, just like that character did, but it’s few and far between because this week, you haven’t heard jack from him. And why? Because deep down he’s seen what I’ve accomplished inside of this business and he knows that I’m a force to be reckoned with! So, he’s hiding. That’s smart. But will he stay hidden?

He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

The Troll: Of course not. That’s because that made up storyline of a reputation his overpaid PR Agent has eaten away at his brain, making him believe his own hype. He really BELIEVES that he is this legend in the business and that he’s held ALL of these championships and been in ALL of these Hall of Fame ceremonies.

He huffs and stares into the camera.

The Troll: There is nothing more pitiful than a man who can’t accept the reality that is staring him right in the face. Sad, huh? Now I would have HOPED that in recent events, that the world would be a happier place. The Republicans - MY PEEPS - won the House! Huh? Huh? And of course, there’s the fact that your boy here…

He does the RVD thumbs pose.

The Troll: Has officially got game. My lovely Kitty showed up and kicked the balls of that sad O’Malley so hard he gave himself a hummer. Haha!

He laughs and claps his hands together. He wiped a gleeful tear from his eye.

The Troll: That was so great! But…

He sighs.

The Troll: People aren’t happy for me. If nothing else, they’re insulting me even more and… insulting my beautiful Katherine too! THAT … will demand a reckoning! And I thought when my Mom fainted last week, it was because she was so happy for her beautiful baby boy but sadly… no. She fainted because she was sad. And WHY was she so sad?

*THUMP!* *THUMP!* *THUMP!*

As if on cue…

Mom: GABRIEL!

The Troll sighs.

The Troll: Yes, Ma!?

Mom: I’m not talking to you!

The Troll: Okay Ma!

Mom: I just can’t believe you! After I tried so hard to raise you right, imagine! Going off and starting something with that girl and breaking the heart of that poor Miles boy!

The Troll stares into the camera, shaking his head and jetting a thumb up.

The Troll: That’s why!

Immediate closeup of the Troll’s face as the cam ear for his vlog is turned on and he sits back in his comfortable yet outdated desk chair that has seen better days. He clasps his hands on the surface of his folding table desk and wears a cocky smile on his face.

The Troll: Hey yo yo yo, everyone! It’s your boy …

**RVD thumbs to the shoulders**

The Troll: … The Troll, here with the mind blowing expose that you were prom-

**THUD! THUD! THUD!**

The Troll’s smile falls and he sighs.

The Troll: Wow. She broke her record.

Mom: GABRIEL!

He looks up toward the ceiling of his boudier which also happens to be the floor of the house’s first floor.

Troll: Yes, Ma???

Mom: Are you talking to your little friends?

Troll: Yes Ma!

Mom: Well you tell them "hi" for me!

Troll: I will, Ma!

He returns his attention to the camera.

The Troll: Now before we get to the root of why you’re all here, let me just say that it is about time that the top brass of SCW - that’s YOU Ward and Underwood - gave me my just due and put me in a spot where I can get for myself a championship match! Of course, the fact that you put me against three losers to earn this spot at High Stakes XII instead of doing the FAIR thing - which is just booking me against the Roulette Champion - is a travesty for another day! After all, how many times do I have to show Bulldog Bill Barnhart who’s boss? I mean, what do I have to do to show that old fool that he is the past whereas I am the future of this company? Roll up a newspaper and hit him on the snoot like a bad puppy who just piddled on the floor? Old Man Barnhart has had ENOUGH chances at the championships of SCW! It’s time for a REAL MAN to step up and step past a liar like him! I mean… the man is trying to convince everyone that he’s in his thirties. If he’s in his thirties then I’M a light heavyweight!

The Troll shakes his head and huffs.

The Troll: Then of course there’s Agostino Romano who has got to be THE single most overrated Superstar EVER! And when I say ever, I mean in the entire ten year history of Sin City Wrestling! All they ever do is hype this joker by telling everyone that he’s a record breaking three-time Internet Champion!

The Troll scoffs.

The Troll: Yeah, and they also forget to mention he also lost all three of those championships on the FIRST defense! Oh-OH! And then they REALLY insult me when they put Alex Rush of all people as the fourth member of this match! I mean, seriously!?

He makes the WTF face.

The Troll: Alex Freaking Rush!? The only reason this lunatic held any sort of championship down in the minor leagues was because of a rhino! … Yeah! You heard me right - a rhino is behind every accomplishment that Alex Rush has had in his life! What does that tell you about the so-called legacy this dipstick will leave behind? And these are the men they think are worthy of competing against ME for a title shot at the biggest event of the year…

**THUD! THUD! THUD!**

Mom: GABRIEL!

Troll: Yes, Ma???

Mom: Are you telling all your friends about your little wrestling match this weekend???

The Troll: Yes Ma, I am!

Mom: Aw! That's Mama's sweet, baby boy! Going after his very first championship! I'm so proud of you!

Troll: No, Ma! I told you! I have to win this match first to earn the championship match!

Mom: Oh. Do we have any Scooter pies?

The Troll does a double take before returning his full attention to his vlog.

The Troll: Now, I promised everyone out there a MAJOR news drop and as you all know - I Do Not Lie! This news is so big that it might even surpass every other nomination for the WTF/Holy Sh!t Moment of the Year in the 2022 Awards! This has everything to do with a former Superstar in SCW, the kind of guy who gets off on walking around wearing eyeliner and putting gel in his chest hair. Yeah. You know who I’m talking about…!

The Troll holds up a picture for the camera to see.


The Troll drops the photo and huffs.

The Troll: Yeah, O’Malley! The former SCU Underground Champion and SCW Roulette Champion and – probably the one person who can beat out Agostino Romano as the Most Overrated wrestler in SCW history! But this isn’t about attacking the man or throwing shade because Lord knows I’m not the sort! This revelation comes from a place of caring because my news is hopefully going to save the man from a life of humiliation – wel, further humiliation. You see, the poor man has been duped. He is a victim here, and it is my job to save him from himself! Because his wife – Darcy? She is not who he thinks she is! Are you ready for this?

He clears his throat and readies himself.

The Troll: Darcy – is Misty!

He spreads his arms out wide and nods.

The Troll: I know, right!? The very same Misty that the world thought died YEARS AGO is alive and well! Misty, Hall of Famer and one of the original Bombshells FAKED her own death for reasons unknown! She is alive and well and in this callous act has thrown all the respect and adoration the fans gave her right back in their faces! Now you might be asking how can this be true when Misty and Darcy look nothing alike but ah HA! Your boy the Troll knows! After she faked her untimely demise, she couldn’t live with her own actions and live without O’Malley so she went all Nicholas Cage and did the whole Face Off thing to come back a whole new person, start over because she had screwed up her life so ABYSMALLY – and worm her way right back into O’Malley’s life like she had never left!

He slams a fist onto the table surface.

The Troll: I will not stand for this! Women are always treating men like childish fools and acting all superior! Well let me tell you, Misty may have believed the world had been fooled by her little deception but NOT ME! And I will not rest until she has confessed the truth of her emotional crimes against O’Malley and…

**THUD! THUD! THUD!**

Mom: GABRIEL!

Troll: What is it Ma!?

Mom: Don't you "what is it Ma" me! I raised you better than that and that's the way you talk to your mother!? What if I died right here and right now and that's the last thing you said to me!? THEN you'd be sorry! THEN you'd…

The Troll: I'm SORRY Ma! Did you need something?

Mom: How come you never invite any of your little wrestling friends over? Like that sweet boy with the butt? What's his name?

The Troll runs a hand down his face, knowing exactly who she means.

The Troll: Miles Kasey, Ma!

Mom: Yeah, him! Or that Bella Madison! She's such a little doll! How come you never bring them over?

The Troll: Ma...

Mom: What, are you ASHAMED of your mother??? Is THAT it!? My own baby boy is ashamed...

The Troll: I'm NOT ashamed of you Ma!

Mom: Then why don't you ever invite them over!?

The Troll: Because I don't LIKE them, Ma!

The Troll suddenly looks into the camera with horror at his admission and quickly shuts it off![/font]

The amateur-made logo for the webcast fades away into nothingness and the Troll is the first thing scene, an unfortunate closeup of what appears to be wire brush but as he draws back, is revealed to be nothing more than a closeup shot of the hair in his nose. The Troll turns his camera’s features on and with the lightning around him, he is revealed to be seated in a shabby hotel room; complete with faded paint on the walls that is peeling in worn spots, a window with no view save for a large tree right in front of it, a bed with the blankets turned over and rumbled and pillows that look as if they’ve had better days.

The Troll: Hey, yo yo everybody! It’s your boy, the Troll, here for another expert broadcast of the Wit and Wisdom of the one and only - The Troll! And you know what that means! A healthy dose of the truth, and nothing but the truth! And you want a hint of the Truth to start things out!? Take a look around me! You see where I am? You see the conditions that a man of my stature has been put in??

He waves behind him with a flail of his flabby forearm.

The Troll: Take a guess where your boy is this week! Heck! I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count! Your boy the Troll - that’s me - is all the way in Jaipuri, India! And you wouldn’t believe the lengths Mark Ward and Christian Underwood went through to keep yours truly out of this country! And why? Because they were afraid! They were afraid of what I was going to say to expose them and Sin City Wrestling! Because the last thing any cherry picking corporate schlongs like those two want is for the soft minded, weak-willed plebeians to know EXACTLY what is happening behind the scenes of their precious money making scam! And that is what SCW is - a scam! I’ll tell you why, it's because of the second reason why they went through such lengths to keep me away! Because of this high and mighty soft serve wimp named Finn Whelan that they have me up against tonight!

The Troll waves his hands around and shakes his head.

The Troll: Oh yeah, I heard ALL about the mighty and fearsome Finn Whelan! The guy is a pencil neck geek who has the body of a flat chested Bombshell but apparently the bosses expect big things from him! They think he’s something special and a future World Champion but I know better!

He pokes himself in the chest, emphasizing each word.

The Troll: I. Know. Better! Finn Whelan has about as much chance at living up to those lofty expectations as Ben Jordan has at not coloring his chest hair so you don’t see all the gray! Finn Whelan has as much of a shot at beating me this weekend as Melissa has at admitting she injected that big booty full of cement!

He leans in close to the screen and stage whispers.

The Troll: Explains a lot about that Bombshell, doesn’t it?

He taps a knowing finger to his temple and leans back the way he was.

The Troll: I’ll give you one chance, Finn, to just walk away from this match and save your dignity because the Troll is out for blood, baby! And you have only Ward and Underwood to thank for everything I was put through over the last two days! First, I SOMEHOW was given the understanding I was supposed to be in Indiana for a match so I flew ALL the way there, only to get chewed out by the **air quotes* bosses to get my, as Underwood put it, ever expanding backside to INDIA! I mean - INDIA!? Who in God;s name comes to this forsaken country WILLINGLY!? They don’t even eat BEEF! What does it tell you when a man can’t go out and get a decent hamburger because of religious morals! Imagine – pandering to the locals!

He rolls his eyes.

The Troll: Then I get stuck in coach, and do you see where they put me up when a man of MY distinction should be in the suite!? YOU Whelan! This is all your fault and I swear to GOD I am going to…!

*THUMP!* *THUMP!* The tell-tale sound of something banging on the wall.

Mom: GABRIEL THOMAS WANK!

The Troll closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting loose a sigh.

The Troll: Yes, Ma!?

Mom: Be a good boy and get your Mommy some ice from the machine!

The Troll: Yes Ma!

Mom: That’s my boy!

The Troll then side eyes the camera.

The Troll: And I want to know WHO was responsible for THAT!? Milo Kasey…!

He points right into the camera.

The Troll: It was YOU, wasn’t it!? Or maybe… Ben Jordan!? If I find out it was the Cockring King…!

He then sits back again, only something goes ‘crack’ and he plummets backwards with his feet sticking straight up in the air at full camera angle.

The Troll: CUT! CUT!
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The amateur-made logo for the webcast fades away into nothingness and the Troll is the first thing scene, an unfortunate closeup as he turns his camera’s features on and leans back into his comfortable, if obviously well-used, gaming chair.

The Troll: Hey, yo yo everybody! It’s your boy, the Troll, here for another expertise broadcast of the Wit and Wisdom of .. you guessed it - The Troll! And you know what that means! A healthy dose of the truth, and nothing but the truth! But above all, a hard dose of tough love for some plebians because that’s just the sort of man that I am! I. Care!

Then comes that all-too familiar thud on te floor of the house, which just so happens to be the roof above the Troll’s head in his room - the basement of his mom’s house.

Mom: GABRIEL!

The Troll closes his eyes and sighs, hoping - believing - that he would have more time to devote to his ‘peeps’ before the inevitable was to happen. He pulls the headset from his right ear…

The Troll: WHAT, MA!?

Mom: ‘What, Ma!’ I hope your little friends hear the way you talk to your poor mother!

The Troll: I’m SORRY, Ma! I just got down here to start tal;king to my peeps…

Mom: Are you eating those nasty things again!? If you don’t slow down on those things you might end up putting on weight and I don’t want my baby to get fat!

The Troll: I won’t, Ma! What did you need???

Mom: It started raining outside! I just put up the wash!

The Troll: O…kay? Are you going to go get it!?

Mom: Gabriel Archibald Wank!

(The Troll quickly (but not quick enough) covers the microphone in a misguided attempt to stop anyone from discovering his shame – namely his middle name.

Mom: I just sat down to watch my stories! I need you to get up here and get the wash down before it’s ruined!

The Troll: Ma! I’m BUSY!

Mom: Oh well ex-CUSE me, Mister High and Mighty Pro Wrestler! I was only thinking of you because you know what rain water does to that special detergent for your underwear and how it gave you that nasty rash last time up your…!

The Troll: Okay Ma! I’m COMING!

Mom: Aww, that's Momma's sweet boy!

He reaches forward and turns off the camera…

And several minutes later, the camera is turned back on and the Troll resumes his spot.

The Troll: Sorry about that, you know me. The ever-dutiful son! A man’s work is never done, which brings me to why I’m here today. How long has it been since yours truly has been given the opportunity to shine? Not since the start of December! Can you believe that!? They have tried so hard for so long to hold me back, to hold me down, but no sir! That is not going to happen, I won’t allow it! You know me, peeps! I just keep fighting because that’s what a REAL man does! He does not forgive, and he does not forget! Which is why, sooner or later, I am going to get my hands on that little freak Despayre and wring his neck and then make him sit back and watch as I wring the neck of that STUPID teddy bear of his! But…

He holds a hand up, conceding a point.

The Troll: This one isn’t about that sick freak. This is about your boy, that’s me, finally being given the chance ti get back inside of the ring so I can show some new loser in SCW what it means to debut against a real superstar! And they give me some guy who sounds like he should be wearing his initials on his high school Letterman jacket!

He ‘air quotes’ with a snide expression.

The Troll: JC! Maybe I’m wrong. Forget the high school dropout routine. He sounds like some gay rap superstar.

Hey yo yo yo! I’m really a boy!

He thumps his chest and gives the camera a lame rap gesture.

The Troll: What kind of stupid ring name is that!? Hi-C is more like it because any fool who talks smack about yours truly and steps inside of the ring with me by CHOICE… well, he has to be high because he can’t possbly be willing to do something so dumb by choice! He’s been talking smack for days abut what he’s going to do to me with hos like Kat Jones and other Vegas tramps jumping in to cheer him on, which is just going to make things even sweeter when I put him down and shut them up! And since he has his own cheerleading section, that’s just going to make things go even worse for poor JC!

He holds both hands up.

The Troll: Don’t blame me, JC! You only have those bimbos to blame for what I’m going to do to you. So-called unbeaten superstar, about to taste his first loss in well over a year!

He snorts.

The Troll: As. If! I believe he has a win-loss record THAT impressive about as much as I believe he’s held as many championships as he likes to brag about. And you all know me and how much I hate a braggart! Well all those titles you CLAIM to have held just means you’ve lost a bunch of championships!

And that is THE TRUTH!
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