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Losing Control Thrylla: Hello? Nomad: Hey old friend. Looks like it�s really coming down to it now. The time is almost upon us. Thrylla: What the hell do you want, you sick fuck? Nomad: I�m simply conveying a message. A very important message, I would think. Thrylla: Yeah, and what�s that? You�re finally coming out of the closet? Nomad: Ha ha....not quite. Although I am coming out of the shadows. Out of the shadows, and into your spotlight. Thrylla: I don�t know why you have these delusions that I�m the one who�s been holding you down all these years, Nomad. The only thing holding you back is your own self doubt. Nomad: THAT�S A LOAD OF BULLSHIT, THRYLLA!!! You were always the one everyone cheered, you were always the one who sold the most foam fingers and t-shirts. You got the spots on The Tonight Show, and I didn�t get SHIT! I�ve been working my ass off just as long as you have, and I have NOTHING TO SHOW FOR IT!!! Thrylla: You have a title shot, asshole! Against me, the best in the business! So get your shit straight, or you don�t have a chance at the pay per view!!! Nomad: I don�t think so, friend! You know who doesn�t have a chance?! You and those closest to you!!! I�m closer than you think, Thrylla. Closer than you can possibly imagine. How�s your mother doing, Thrylla? -=- Nomad slams the phone down on the receiver. He lowers his head, and his hair hangs down over his eyes. He leans on the table in front of him, his hands resting on a stack of newspaper cutouts and magazine clippings. Each one is titled in reference to the man on the other end of the previous phone call....each one is about Serial Thrylla -=- Bastard....little fucking bastard.... -=- Nomad stands up straight and looks around the room. His face is chisled and lean, his expression is blank save for his eyes, which burn with raw hatred. The room Nomad is standing in is bare in all senses of construction. Plain plank walls with a matching floor and ceiling. A single light bulb suspended from the ceiling by a dangling cord. There is one small table in the center of the room covered in magazine clippings, torn-out newspaper articles, and other such media all focused on the former franchise of the EWA, Serial Thrylla. On the wall behind Nomad sits a beat-up, 19-inch TV on a rickety stand. A VCR on the shelf of the stand is actively playing a video of one of the most historic matches in professional wrestling history, the Hell On Earth match. The walls and most of the ceiling are covered completely by Serial Thrylla merchandise and paraphenalia. Posters, t-shirts, baseball caps, license plate frames, necklaces, bandanas, beach towels, hockey sticks, �autographed� 8x10 pictures, all bearing the three letters that have haunted Nomad for years. The three letters that symbolize the most popular man in sports entertainment. All these things proudly display the fourth, sixth, and first letters of the English alphabet....D � F � A -=- I�ve had it. I�m sick of it. And I�m not going to take it for one more second of my life. Thrylla, my mind is full of memories. From back when I was a child, from my adolescent years growing up on the streets, and most importantly, from my career as a pro wrestler. And one memory in particular stands out among the rest. One event is burned into my synapses with a heat and fury unmatched by and other. You know what that memory is, Thrylla? You know what I remember that makes me hate you so? Allow me to remind you. -=- Nomad walks over to a spot near the closed door, the only opening in the room, and points to an article tacked to the wall. The headline boldy reads �Has the EWA�s Main Man Become a Wild Gun?� and beneath it is a picture of Serial Thrylla, with Nomad�s head held tight to his right shoulder, leaping off the top turnbuckle delivering a DFA -=- This article is my most prized possesion, Thrylla. This article reminds me when I forget, it refreshes my memory when it becomes clouded. It reintroduces me to my hatred for you every time I look at it. This article is about the time you ran out to the ring during one of my matches and gave me the Death From Above....FOR NO REASON. You were totally unprevoked in this action, and the repercussions still ring in my ears; The sound of the bell ringing as my shoulders were pinned to the mat for three seconds. You cost me that match, Thrylla. And you cost yourself so much more. Because ever since that night, I have hated you deeply and personally. I held it back, repressed it, and only let it peek through in my weakest of moments. I held onto that flame of pain and let it burn my sould for years. And now, it�s time to turn that flame into an inferno that will consume you....and possibly myself as well. Because when we meet at �Bombs Away�, I�m going to unleash the full fury of my agony. I�m going to show you the same torture I�ve endured. And I�m going to kick your ass to prove something. To prove myself. -=- Nomad looks up for the first time since he hung up the phone. His eyes are alight with anger -=- You�ve always been one step ahead of me. I�ve always been one step behind. In the EWA, you won the World Title while I was forced to dwell beneath you as the mere International Champion. Every federation I�ve worked in, I�ve been compared to you. The experts have gauged my success by whether or not I�ve lived up to yours. In the BLW, I had the chance to win a World Title and stand on top of the world....and I was ROBBED. Hacker screwed me out of my shot, my shot to take your spot as the most powerful man in wrestling. But with a little luck, and a lot of hard work, I�m at an even more important crossroads. If I beat you for that World Title, I can finally claim my place. I can finally stand above you as you�ve done to me for years. I can stand triumphant over your limp body, holding my hard-earned HIW World Title above my head. The world will buzz with the news of me dethroning you, and I will be talked about for years as the man who ended the era, the one man who did what no other could do. I WILL GO DOWN IN HISTORY AS THE ONE WHO PUT YOU TO REST. -=- Nomad�s calm is now replaced by a look of furious anger as he continues speaking -=- Your time is over, Thrylla. Your clock is ticking, and the twilight of your career is upon you. I will END YOU at Bombs Away, Thrylla. And you will never forget that Nomad was the one who ENDED YOUR CAREER. How�s your mother doing Thrylla? I think I�ll go find out for myself.... -=- Nomad opens the door to the room and walks out, closing the door behind him. On the TV, the image is shown of the finish of the Hell On Earth match, when Nomad defeated both Clayton Chandler and Serial Thrylla to retain the EWA Heavyweight Championship. The VCR clicks, and the TV screen flickers and goes blue, except for the word �END� flashing in the rop right corner -=- 
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