Hangman: Sonuvabitch!!

[Chett fires a half empty bottle of beer across the WCCW locker room. The bottle smashes against the wall and sprays beer everywhere. ]

Stephanie Alverez: Excuse me Chett.

[WCCW backstage personality, Stephanie Alverez steps into the locker room with microphone in hand and camera man in tow. Hangman sighs at the sight of Alverez as she is the last person he wants to see right now.]

Hangman: Ms. Alverez, what can I do for ya ma’am? This is not the best of time.

Stephanie Alverez: I know Chett. I’m just doing my job. Can I ask you a few questions?

Hangman: Do I have a choice?

Stephanie Alverez: Uhhh…

Hangman: Go on.

Stephanie Alverez: Thank you. Chett, you’re obviously upset at…

Hangman: Really?! That’s how you start? Yes ma’am, I’m damn upset! That punk Rocker had a horseshoe up his damn arse tonight. So yeah… I’m a bit ticked off at the moment. The beer’s helpin’ though.

[Chett cracks open a fresh beer  and takes a long drag off it. He sets it down and wipes some sweat.]

Stephanie Alverez:  You snapped out there after the match. You assaulted an innocent referee.

Hangman: Nah ma’am, I never assaulted anyone. I whooped his damn ass.

Stephanie Alverez: He was rushed to the hospital because of you!

Hangman: Good. He shoulda called the match right. There ain’t no way there’s f[beep]in’ rope breaks in a Brass Knuckles match. That’s f[beep]ed. I won that match.

Stephanie Alverez: That’s your opinion. You’ve got a busy week coming up. First, you got Sin City’s Summer xXxtreme event on August 12th. Then, the very next night is Nightmare. How are you going to pull that off?

Hangman: Sin City and WCCW worked it out honey. A chopper is pickin’ up the Hangman and taking him to shore after the Roulette match. Then I gotta hop a plane to Albuquerque for that damn Battle Royale.

Stephanie Alverez:  SCW’s show is on the Royal Monarch Cruiseline. How do you feel about that?

Hangman: Sweetie, don’t you worry about the Hangman. I ain’t a fan of the water, but it is what it is. I’ll get my sea legs quick enough, and then I’ll shove my boot down someone’s throat. Ya see, all Ronnie did was piss off the Hangman. I’m mad as hell. The folks in the Roulette match are the poor suckers that have to deal with me first. I reckon you’re going to see a lot of scurryin’ to get away from the ticked off Texan. Can ya blame them?

Stephanie Alverez:  Your career has had a lot of ups and downs. A lot of peaks and valleys. A lot of…

Hangman: Got any more of those sweetie? Ya, I know. It’s never been about that for Chett Hawkins. I go in and collect my damn cheque for beating people up. I don’t care about titles. All Hangman cares about is getting paid and busting skulls. Simple. Whether the Hangman wins or loses, the sucker that’s across the ring from big Chett Hawkins knows he was in a damn fight. SCW knows it. WCCW knows it.  I get paid for beating people up. I’m gonna do it at Summer xXxtreme and I’m going to do it in the Battle Royale at Nightmare.

Stephanie Alverez:  Anything else to add?

Hangman: Yeah, I got an offer for anyone in SCW and WCCW. If you got the money and want a guy to watch your back… give the old Hangman a ring. That goes for anyone in my matches comin’ up too. You want a little extra insurance and protection? Holler at the Hangman. If you got the cash, I got the fists to help ya out.

Stephanie Alverez:  Wow.

Hangman: Why are you surprised honey? I like hanging out and drinking beers. Haven’t had a chance to do that since Scanlon left. Getting paid a little extra to smash more skulls than normal is just a bonus. So, give the Hangman a call if ya want to drink some beers and have a little backup plan. Now get outta here!

[Hangman gets off his chair and stomps over to the door of the locker room and shows the WCCW crew the door.]

 Friday, April 27th
Somewhere Over The Atlantic Ocean

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[Flying is never fun for the big man from Corpus Christi. It's not easy to fly for a big guy like Chett Hawkins. Cramped quarters, especially when the promotion doesn't upgrade you first class. What does that mean? Easy... a pissed off Texan.]

HANGMAN: muttering to himself God, I hate flying.

[Hangman tries to get comfortable in his seat. His legs are cramping already only an hour into his flight.]

HANGMAN: muttering to himself Why do I do this? They could have upgraded my damn seat. They're going to hear about this when I get to London.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Fast forward a couple of hours. Flight's done and Chett Hawkins has finally made it through security, baggage claim and all of the other crap that goes hand in hand with flying overseas. Face it... Chett sticks out. Security always likes to investigate... just to be safe you know. Chett's frustration level is at a whole new high. He is met outside by a driver and an SCW cameraman. Hangman tosses his bag at the driver. Cameras are rolling to capture the arrival of the superstars of SCW. Needless to say, Chett Hawkins is going to take the opportunity to vent.]

SCW Cameraman: How was your flight big man?

[Hawkins shoots a glare at the cameraman that cuts right through the pathetic excuse of a person. How could you not tell you had a pissed off Texan on your hands? Wrong question junior....]

HANGMAN: How was my flight!? Did someone forget to upgrade my CENSORED seat!? I flew coach over the CENSORED Atlantic! I'm tired. I'm sore. I'm pissed. I had a little old CENSORED fall asleep on me and drool over my CENSORED shoulder. That's how my flight was!

[The camera guy's face tells it all. He's scared.]

HANGMAN: Guess it's a good way to get me fired up our title match. The Williams sisters and Sinful Obsession are in for a treat Sunday night at London Brawling. What happens you have a cranky as CENSORED Texan? Pain... that's what happens. I'm gonna take out all of my frustrations on those four Sunday Night. The frustrations are not just from that CENSORED flight I just got off of either. My frustration has been building for months now. The Aristocrats have had a bouncy ride since hooking up as a tag team. Sunday night at London Brawling, The Aristrocrats will claim what is rightfully theirs. We will walk out SCW Tag Team Champions. It's gonna be a night of retribution and fulfilment for "Big" Steve Scanlon and the Hangman. We're leaving London with those CENSORED straps if it's  the last thing I do. Now get that CENSORED camera outta my face boy or I'm gonna cram it up your ass! Move!

[Hangman shoves the camera guy hard against the side of the waiting car and jumps in the backseat. The driver hops in and speeds off per the demand of his client.]

 SCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP
WYATT PETERSON and SEAN WILLIAMS © vs. THE ARISTOCRATS

Friday, February 24th. Chett Hawkins sits at the bar at the Palms Casino; sarsaparilla in hand.

“Blaze Of Glory... February 26th... live from the Palms...”

Chett takes one last gulp of his drink and sits it on the counter.

“Peterson and Williams, you boys have somethin’ Steve and I want badly. Those SCW Tag straps need to be holding up my pants. Gold ain’t your best color kids. Ya know... ya need to shine those up for us before Sunday.”

Hawkins pushes his hair back and puts his hat back on. He slides a tip to the bartender and gets up.

“Boys, Sunday is goin’ to be one helluva long night for ya. You are steppin’ in the ring with two of the very best in this damn business. You need to listen and listen closely to what I’m sayin’. Sunday night is your last night with those damn belts.”

Chett makes his way out into the Vegas night. The lights of the strip shine brightly.

“Peterson and Williams, do yourselves a favor. Go eat your Wheaties, take your vitamins, and maybe have a few drinks before our match. You two are gonna need to bring your A game Sunday if you stand a snowball’s chance in hell of walking out in one piece.”

Hangman heads down the street. The freaks of the Vegas night are out in full force but they all stare in awe of the one true freak.

“The sand in your hourglass has almost run out. Sunday night you will feel the wrath of the Aristocrats. You will step up to the Hangman’s gallows... and you’ll feel the short drop and the quick stop! Sunday night... Blaze Of Glory... Scanlon and Hawkins walk away with the straps!

Static...

 Corpus Christi, Texas. The sun is setting. Out in the fields of the Hawkins Ranch we come across the beast of a man known simply worldwide as “Hangman”. He stands 6'8” and towers over most that cross his path.

“Sin City Wrestling...”

Hangman peers over the acreage of the Hawkins family ranch. A calm, yet brooding scene is clearly written across the face of the man that has traveled many a road over the years.

“Steve Scanlon and Hangman have arrived in Sin City Wrestling. We have arrived in Sin City Wrestling for many reasons which include the Sin City and National Wrestling Alliance tag team championship titles.”

Hangman pulls his hair back before readjusting his Stetson.

“Those are the obvious reasons. I, however have many more.”

Hangman begins a slow journey back to the ranchhouse.

“Steve found me and put things back into perspective after I went astray. I had lost focus. I had lost my passion for the business that I grew up in. I lost my passion for applying pain.”

A devious smile comes across his face.

“But, they say 'you can't pick your family'. If that's true, Steve's probably the brother I never had. All joking aside, Scanlon has refocused me and I thank him for that.”

Hangman steps up on the porch of the ranchhouse and takes a seat on an old chair.

“Jonathan Downs and Reprobate, you two are the unfortunate souls that get to see this refocusing of Hangman Hawkins first hand. You will feel what it is like to be outsized and overpowered by the next evolution of Texan wrestlers. I am the hybrid. I am the current and the future. Professional Wrestling flows throw my veins. It's all I've known and all I'll ever know. I am my father's son and I am professional wrestling.”

The camera zooms in on the ice cold eyes of Hangman Hawkins.

“All who step up to the Hangman's gallows arrive at the same fate. A short drop... and a sudden stop.”

Hangman bows his head...

“Muerte, Las Vegas.”

Static...