(OOC: Some of this won't make complete sense right away, but when Odette Ryder posts, it will make a bit more sense.)
"Bloody woman!"
The camera moves through an apartment overlooking the Vegas strip. Hot Stuff Mark Ward is seen sitting outside at a table, looking down on the Vegas strip below him. Hot Stuff throws down a phone on plastic white table as he leans backwards in his chair, talking to himself.
HS: That woman's got more demands than a North Korean dictator with a really stupid hair cut.
Hot Stuff looks at the camera.
HS: Dictator's got the stupid haircut, not the woman.
Hot Stuff reaches forward, picking up a can of Red Bull in front of him, and lifting it back, taking a huge gulp of the energy boosting drink. Hot Stuff again looks at the camera.
HS: You'd need this is your sleep was as screwed up as mine.
Hot Stuff stands up, leaning on the rail and looking down at the Vegas strip below him. Hot Stuff shakes his head as he watches people scurry by, walking back and forth, tourists snapping pictures of landmarks they've only ever seen on CSI Crime Scene Investigation. Hot Stuff runs his fingers through his dark hair as the sun beats down on him, before turning his back on the world below.
HS: Here we are and today, we're gonna do things a little arse backwards, because usually, you see me doing all the fun stuff before getting all focused. That is usually the key to success in SCW, showing creativity before getting down and talking a fair amount, all the top people do it but today, we're gonna do this one a little bit backwards, because well, I'm Hot Stuff, I do what the hell I want, when I want.
A confidence smile crosses the Englishman's face.
HS: If I wanted to sit here with my nuts in hand and talk to you all, I will because I can, but instead, I'm gonna keep my hands where you can all see them and talk about a man who has a head like a shaved testicle. The big shaved baboon that is you Casey Williams.
Hot Stuff steps in to the apartment, showing a very modern looking home. A low L shaped sofa, with coffee table in front, sits in front of a big television on the wall. To one side, a computer desk is seen with a laptop set up. Hot Stuff points his thumb towards the laptop.
HS: Don't worry, it's not gonna be a Kennedy style promo where I either turn to or switch off a laptop to end things.
Hot Stuff bites his lower lip, as a smile escapes from them.
HS: I think right now, I'm actually making Casey Williams more than he is just by talking about him, his name is now worth a lot more considering it's passing my lips, rather than anyone elses.
Hot Stuff walks towards the L shaped sofa, sitting in the joint of the L, and throwing his feet up, smiling confidently down the camera.
HS: Hey Casey, this is what your life could have been if you didn't get yourself tied down and knock someone up. While I'm living the high life, you'll be changing shitty babies arses instead of enjoying life. This is gonna be the biggest night of your career and instead of focusing on me, you're gonna be wondering if I'm gonna knock your planet of the apes look alike face, right out of this wrestling business so you can't provide for the litter that you're bringing in to this world.
Hot Stuff kicks off his shoes, letting them drop to the polished wooden floor below.
HS: What was going through that little pea brained mind of yours the last few weeks Casey? What made you get up one morning and decided that I was gonna be your next target? What the fuck on God's green earth was you smoking when you thought you would drag that lard arse down to the ring and talk about me? I remember those words Casey, those one's that fell out of that stupid mouth of yours. You called me out cause no one wanted to collect a bounty on you. Maybe they actually wanted a challenge by attacking someone worthwhile. Then you called me a pussy.... listen Casey, you don't need a gynecologist to look at this match and see who the real pussy is son.
Hot Stuff sits back proudly.
HS: Yep, proud of that one. All the years I've been up and dancing around the ring, I haven't backed down at all. I've done more crazy shit in SCW than you've done in a lifetime. Have I seen you brawl around London, erm... no, but Kain and I beat the shit out of each other around London. Have I seen you playing with barbed wire against a man you've been involved in a war in for years? Nope, but I know I've done it with Billy James. These are my high class stupid shit, what have you done? A feud with Matthew Kennedy.
Hot Stuff waves his hands up shaking them in front of his face in mock fear.
HS: I'm sooooooo scared!
Hot Stuff rolls his eyes.
HS: So you've won a couple of titles, you only one the tag titles cause a certain close friend of mine helped you look like a great tag team champion but without him, you wasn't as good as you think you were, but now you're coming up against me Casey. You jumped in that ring, when I was about to take out that little worm, James Huntington-Hawkes III, and smacked me in the head with that slab of pork you call a hand. Well, I admit, one of the hardest punches I've ever had in my life, almost left a bruise.
Hot Stuff points to the side of his chin.
HS: Hey, zoom in a little closer cameraman.
The cameraman zooms in closer to Hot Stuff's chin, showing nothing there at all.
HS: That is the impact Casey Williams had on my chin.
The camera zooms out to show Hot Stuff's face again in full.
HS: Now Casey, after Sunday, when I put my boot on your chin, and hopefully not rip my groin muscle getting up at your lanky self, we'll have the cameraman zoom in on that chin once more and see what kind of impact I leave on you. We'll see if you can claim not to have anything on your face. I hope you do, might improve those butt ugly looks you got going on there on that face of yours. You stepped up and put those hands on me Casey and now you're gonna regret it, cause come Sunday, I'm gonna smack you so hard, you're gonna change race, religious and sex, all in one go.
Hot Stuff leans to the coffee table and picks up a remote control.
HS: Hey Casey, I know you're fond of a song to go through your promos, so I got one for you.
Hot Stuff presses a button on the remote and Nina Simone's "Young, Gifted and Black." starts to play. Hot Stuff tries to hold in a smile as the lyrics come through.
To be young, gifted and black,
Oh what a lovely precious dream
To be young, gifted and black,
Open your heart to what I mean
In the whole world you know
There's a billion boys and girls
Who are young, gifted and black,
And that’s a fact!
You are young, gifted and black
Hot Stuff presses the button on the remote, stopping the song.
HS: That's enough of that.
Hot Stuff throws the remote down and smiles.
HS: Now why that song you must be asking, eh Casey? Well it's simple, none of the shit you play in your promos makes sense, so why the hell should mine? This Casey, is what English call a piss take. I could sit there and mock your love for karaoke, but that is too easy. I mean I'd sooner listen to the carnal ear splitting noises Lady Gaga would make deep throating Justin Bieber than listen to another chorus of Casey's Musical Menagerie.
Hot Stuff shudders at the thought.
HS: I take that back, I consider that a mock at your karaoke skills. This is me mocking you on the highest level, this is me mocking you by taking what you do, and throwing it back in your face. It's what I do Casey and you know what else I do you Oleg from Saints Row The Third look alike?
Hot Stuff shrugs at the camera.
HS: Gamers would get that one, but I also kick the hell out of anyone who dares step up to me, including you Casey. Your size doesn't scare me, the punch, had that, still here, doesn't scare me. All you're doing is trying to get noticed again Casey, but the problem is, you'll be getting noticed again for the wrong reasons, because I will have to put you on the list of the people who's fallen to me. You might as well stay in that dressing room and not bother showing your face in the ring on Sunday, because it's gonna be a long way back to those curtains when I'm done with you, a hell of a long way back Casey. I've took on and defeated the best, and you my ape like friend, don't even come close to them, you're like meh to me, just meh and come Sunday, you will regret ever putting that pigs trotter on my jaw sunshine. You're gonna regret so so much Casey to the point of never wanting to show that face around here again, ever.
Hot Stuff runs his fingers down his chin.
HS: Simply Casey, you shouldn't be in the same ring as me cause I'm so much better than you. You shouldn't even be anywhere near me Casey, because I'ma send you home crying to your momma! I'm gonna make you regret stepping up to me Casey, cause I'll be smacking you all over the place. If I was you, I'd consider running like a bitch and hiding for a long time, because you may have had your arse kicked by many in the past, but you ain't ever had an arse kicking like the one you're set to take.
Hot Stuff stands up, looking towards the door.
HS: I gotta get my arse in gear and get going to the arena, these things don't just set up themselves, but Casey, your time is running out, because I am way too hot for you to EVER handle monkey boy!
Hot Stuff turns and walks towards the door, as the camera fades out.
Fade in to the Bally's Grand Ballroom, in Reno, Nevada. Hot Stuff looks around the ballroom as it becomes transformed in to the next wrestling location for Sin City Wrestling. Hot Stuff walks through the crowd of people, as they carry around seats and set up the ring. The ramp, partially set up is seen in the front of the shot. Hot Stuff starts to walk up the ramp, as engineers work on the sides. Hot Stuff stops at the top and turns around.
HS: Man, I've worked in so many bigger and better places than this.
Hot Stuff tilts his head.
HS: Worked in a lot worse places than this too to be fair.
Hot Stuff walks through the gap at the top, where the curtain hasn't been put up yet. Hot Stuff looks at the behind the scene area, looking at a stagehand.
HS: Where have they set up my office?
The stagehand points to a door and Hot Stuff nods, walking through the door and shutting it behind him. A desk is set up, with a chair either side and as usual a box full of papers on the desk. Hot Stuff sits behind the desk.
HS: It's so weird that out of all my high moments in my career, I end up in a dodgy little office in a ballroom. When I think of those moments of highs in my career.
Hot Stuff leans back, clearly thinking back, but a screeching halt noise is heard and Christian Underwood walks in, looking at Hot Stuff up and down, while holding a beige folder.
Christian: Are you really going to waste prime material on that asshole?
Hot Stuff sits forward in his chair as Christian sits in the seat opposite him, placing the folder down on the desk.
HS: Well I was going to, but maybe I should save it for a decent match.
Hot Stuff looks at the folder in front of him and points without saying a word.
Christian: New contract for a new star.
Hot Stuff spins the folder around and opens it up, looking down at the name on the contract. Hot Stuff looks up.
HS: Good name. Good signing. What happened to NLWF?
Christian: Sadly went under.
HS: No Limits loss, our gain. Got a pen?
Hot Stuff puts out his hand as Christian reaches in to his top pocket and pulls out a pen, rolling it across the desk. Hot Stuff stops it and picks it up, before lifting a page in the folder and signing his name across it.
HS: Just tell him to be here on Sunday and he can make a debut.
Christian rolls his eyes.
Christian: Want me to pick up your dry cleaning too while I'm at it?
Christian's tone drops of sarcasm, but Hot Stuff shrugs it off.
HS: Isn't that what we have Erik for?
Christian nods in agreement.
Christian: So why Casey?
Hot Stuff shrugs
HS: Why the fuck not to be honest.
Christian: Because I thought you only stepped out against legendary names.
HS: I've been thinking about that Christian, and I gotta be honest with you, I need to....
Before Hot Stuff can continue, a knock on the door is heard. Hot Stuff puts his finger up to Christian.
HS: Come in.
The door opens and one half of Sinful Obsession, Gabriel, walks in to the room.
Gabriel: Not interrupting anything, am I?
Hot Stuff and Christian stand up, Christian shaking Gabriel's hand as he walks in the door. Hot Stuff reaches across the desk, shaking Gabriel's hand.
Christian: No, not at all, what's on your mind?
Gabriel: Just wanted to talk to you guys about the dream match thing. Despayre and I had a chat and there wasn't much doubt on who we wanted to face, so was in the area so thought I'd drop by and sort it out.
Hot Stuff sits back in his chair.
HS: We're talking about your dream match, right?
Gabriel: Yes, why?
HS: Have you spoke to your missus lately about her dream match?
Gabriel and Christian look at each other, slightly confused by Hot Stuff, Hot Stuff puts his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his pressed together hands.
Christian: Something you're not telling us?
Gabriel: Has O told you what match she wants to do?
HS: You could say that. I had a chat with your young lady, who decided her dream match didn't involve her.
Gabriel: What?
Christian: Who did it involve?
Hot Stuff smiles before pointing at Gabriel. Christian scratches his head
HS: You.
Gabriel: Me?
HS: Yes you.
Christian: So her dream match involved Gabriel, against who?
HS: Simon Jones.
Gabriel's eye widen.
Gabriel: Why?
HS: I think she thinks you should be going for the heavyweight title.
Christian: And technically, if you actually beat Simon Jones, that puts you in line for his heavyweight title. Anyone who beats a champion in a non title match, moves up to the top of the line.
Gabriel looks confused by hearing this for the first time.
Gabriel: What did you say to that?
HS: I said no, it defeats the meaning of dream matches. Meant to be a dream match for themselves, if not, I would pay someone to pick Nick Jones Vs Christian Underwood.
Christian's head spins towards Hot Stuff.
HS: What? You've been dreaming of going one on one against Nick for years.
Christian bites his lower lip.
Christian: Different kind of one on one.
HS: Oh?
Hot Stuff pauses for a second, but a look of disgust crosses Hot Stuff's face.
HS: OH! You're a sick man!
Christian smiles widely.
Christian: You wouldn't have me any other way.
Hot Stuff mouths the words "I would" to Gabriel.
Gabriel: So did she pick another match?
HS: She did, but I told her I'd think about that one too but I got a bit on my mind, with the upcoming match against that big angry mud sucking big foot style giant.
Gabriel: I can come back later if you want.
Hot Stuff stands up, walking around the desk.
HS: It's all good, put your feet up, let Christian know what your dream match is, and he'll sort it out and we'll get things rolling.
Gabriel: Thanks.
Christian stands up and walks behind Hot Stuff's desk, pointing to the seat he vacated. Gabriel sits down in the now vacated seat.
HS: I'll be back in a while.
Hot Stuff walks out of the room and in to the hallway where Ms Rocky Mountains stands.
MRM: Boss!
Hot Stuff looks down at Ms. Rocky Mountains chest, but quickly looks up at her eyes.
HS: Hi!
MRM: I just want to thank you and Christian for giving me my job back. I hated the way Erik treated us. Always staring at my... you know.
Hot Stuff's eyes snap away from her chest and back up to her face.
HS: Yeah, he was perverted.
Hot Stuff looks at the camera and shrugs, before turning back to Ms Rocky Mountains.
MRM: Is there any chance I can have a quick interview about Casey Williams? For the website.
HS: As long as we make it quick.
MRM: Thanks.
Ms Rocky Mountains looks in to the camera.
MRM: I'm here with the boss of SCW, Hot Stuff Mark Ward. Boss, you're up against the giant of SCW, Casey Williams, how do you plan on coping with his sheer size?
HS: Let me ask you something. Have you ever seen a story where the giant actually wins?
Ms Rocky Mountains shakes her head.
HS: David and Goliath, Jack and the Beanstalk, the eight billion other stories, never end with the giant stomping his size seven hundred and forty shoes down on the little man's head. Well Casey Williams, you will not buck that trend because I will simply not let you. I don't care how big you are, or if you were a Mexican midget in a mask, if you put your hands on me, I will knock you square on your arse and hands were on me, therefore someone will get knocked on their arse. That someone is you Casey Williams, now I want you to bring the camera in nice and close because my last line will sum it up nicely for you Casey.
The camera moves in close on Hot Stuff's face.
HS: Casey Williams, you laid hands on me, you know what that means?
Hot Stuff smiles.
HS: You're fucked.
Hot Stuff turns around, nodding at Ms Rocky Mountains.
HS: Have a good one sweetheart.
Hot Stuff strolls away as the camera fades out.
