The scene opens to a dimly lit room with concrete walls. It has a basement look to it, like a boiler room. As the camera pans around the room, bloodied bandages and wraps can be seen strewn about. As the camera focuses on the floor, a set of black boots step into view. As the camera slowly moves up we see ripped jeans, a scarred torso, and a creepy clown mask.
Clown: BOO The clown removes his mask revealing Chris Shipman. The camera also tends to focus on a bloody tampon in Shipman’s hand.
Shipman: Oh that? Great for nose bleeds. Shipman tosses the tampon across the room and sets his sights back on the camera.
Shipman: Jesus Christ it feels like a long time doesn’t it. I forgot how long weeks drag by here when you are not booked in a match. No Zelda Clarke to harass, no Tommy Knocks to bash the SCW honchos, but on the plus side, after surrounding the ring in barbed wire, no more Big Bad Casey Williams in active competition. Maybe I could come up with a new moniker or something about being a career killer. I guess first I should see what happens to Mr. TNA when he steps into the six sides with me. Will he be another career washed down the drain in a stream of blood? Or will he rise to the occasion like an 80 year old man who downed a bottle of Viagra? Everyone is already betting against me to lose as this is just your normal run of the mill match where there are rules, and I am not allowed to play with weapons. Um, hello… where the hell have you all been since I debuted in the SCW? I have proven countless times it doesn’t matter what the rules are, I can always find a way to win. No I am not on the same level as say someone like J2H but for Travis Andrews, or Crazy Trav as I hear he is called by the local “ladies of the night” , I am more than capable of destroying him in the middle of the ring for the one…two…three.
Shipman is interrupted by his cell phone ringing. Oddly enough his ringtone is “I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany. He pulls on old Motorola flip phone out of his back pocket and begins talking on speaker phone. He is replied back by an older sounding man with a harsh voice.
Shipman: Hello.
: Hey Chris.Shipman: Hey, what’s going on, you get those tickets?: Even better, I got the big ticket.Shipman: Great to hear.: So you got Travis this week, do you have a plan or do you want to hear my strategy?Shipman: I got an idea, you can pass yours on when you get to Arizona.
: Sounds like a date. See you in a bit.
Shipman: Later Hoss.
Shipman hangs up his cell phone and slips it back into his pocket.
Shipman: Sorry about that. Business takes priority sometimes. Now back to you Travis. I know you think you have this match in the bag, after all I do have a shit record here in SCW, I get my jollies pissing on other men, violence, and beating cancer. I have been told I have tarnished professional wrestling, a brown smear on the underwear of life. Well when you join me in that ring at Climax Control, you will discover that I am more than just a joke, a garbage wrestler. You will find out real fast that I am a man who will be a future champion, and who will be in the SCW hall of fame, who will be dominant over the SCW roster. There is a dormant part of me that needs to be awakened and after my match at Violent Conduct it has beginning to stir. Travis, you will be the corpse that gets feasted upon. You can not stop me, you will not win. For I am the bringer of death and destruction. Travis, say your piece, because when Climax Control starts, talk is just that, talk. It holds no effect on what performance I can put on in that ring. See you than. Toodles.
With that said Shipman walks away as the camera zooms in on the bloody tampon and the scene fades to black.
