With devilish slits for eyes, Creature observes the rain running down and off the large, white and red umbrella, with metallic arms and slick wings outstretched over the round, glass table at which he sits.  Wearing a silver and black mask and shiny, black leather pants, and draped in a worn grey coat, the Undisputed World Heavyweight Champion sits in a white chair outside on the patio of a small coffee shop in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.  On the table sits a copy of the latest HCW magazine, a small ivory plate with a lemon slice and a tall glass of tea, and three golden belts- the HCW World Heavyweight Championship, the HWA World Heavyweight Championship, and the HCW World Tag Team Championship.  The masked monster of a man peers out past the umbrella attached to the table by a long, metal pole, and out into the streets.  The air is cool and crisp, and snow is in fact forecasted.  He sighs and shakes his head.

Creature: Where in the hell is Jack...the idiot tells me to meet him here, but he is nowhere to be found.  Probably out drinking, ruining his career, throwing his life away.  Hmph.

Creature shifts his view from the street just yards away from where he sits, down to the contents of the table.  He lifts up the HCW Magazine, and begins to flip through the pages, glancing at each article, but not absorbing a word.

Creature: Who the hell writes this garbage?  To think that just, what, two, two and a half weeks ago, all they could talk about, all they could print in their dirty little rag here was that Inphino Blitz would be the Undisputed Champion, that he would unify the HCW and the HWA World Titles, and that he would defeat...ME.  Perposterous.  I wonder what the next issue will bring?  Surely nothing positive about me.  They'll probably just ramble on and on about Inphino's Continental Title win, and act like that is something I have never done, though I have news for those jackoffs- I am a two-time HCW Continental Champion, and the only God damn Hardcore Continental Champion that ever lived!  But I digress, because what's the point?  While the media and the front office and even the wrestlers who I reign over will never admit, I know one thing to be true- I am better than Inphino, damn it!  That's why I have these belts!

Creature closes the magazine and drops it back down on the table.  He looks back out at the road, and lightly pats the HCW Title belt.

Creature: More importantly, it was Inphino Blitz, whether anyone likes it or not, who felt the wrath of the Force this past Thursday night, the very night Jack and I became the HCW Tag Team Champions.  Ah, indeed, Inphino was not the only one to suffer.  The Mercers, the Forsaken, the Renegadez...they all were punished, but it seems as though one of them has not had enough.  Markus Maximus has stepped up and gotten himself into a Street Fight with the G.O.A.T., the Greatest Of All Time.  He has gotten himself into a Street Fight with an HCW Hall of Famer.  He has gotten himself into a Street Fight with...the Undisputed World Heavyweight Champion.

The champion leans his head back for a moment, and closes his eyes.  He inhales deeply, picking up the sweet sent of the evening rain, and allowing the air's gentle, cool sensation to pour over him.  He then raises his head, and exhales slowly.

Creature: Yes Markus...you've come a long way in such a short time.  But in case you haven't realized, last week was the beginning of the end for you.  Last week, I damn near ripped YOUR arm out the socket with the Cross Face Chickenwing.  It was you who I had squealing, crying, begging for mercy, it was you who tapped out, it was you who cost the Renegadez, and the Forsaken, the HCW World Tag Team Titles.  And Markus, I'm not done.  Because last week, I had to let go.  I ahd to let go off the Chickenwing, or the God forsaken referee might have disqualified us, and perhaps reversed the decision.  But this week- in a no disqualification Street Fight- I won't have to do anything.  I won't have to release the Chickenwing until I feel your shoulder has been sufficiently ravaged.  I won't have to stop beating you with a steel chair, a lead pipe, the ring bell, road signs, tables, ladders, anything- I won't have to stop beating you until I choose to do so Markus.  When you face me, defeat is inevitable.  The fun in fighting me, is guessing how long I'll make the pain last.

Creature pauses and clasps his bare hands together on his lap.  He watches as bright headlights guide an old, grey GMC Jimmy into the small coffee shop's parking lot, and after the vehicle comes to a halt, the door swings open.  Out steps the driver, a large man around six feet four inches in height, with massive arms and grizzly stubble upon his face.  His short, dark hair is unkept, and he wears a stained white tanktop under an open red and white jacket.  He also bears some worn blue jeans and muddy hiking boots, and in his right hand he clutches the second HCW World Tag Team Championship belt.  The man glances around, then spots Creature.  He nods in the Undisputed World Champion's direction, then raises the HCW Tag belt over his head, using it as some sort of shelter from the water droplets raining down from above, and begins to jog over to the table at which Creature is seated.  Creature shakes his head at the man as he reaches the table.

Creature: You're late, Jack.

The man, Jack Duncan, nods and lays his half of the HCW Tag Titles down on the table.

Jack: I know, I know.  These Damn Canadians need to learn how to drive.

Creature nods up and down rapidly, and motions for Jack to take a seat.

Creature: Well, sit down.

Jack Duncan complies, and claims the sturdy white chair across from Creature.  He looks over the table and examines its contents, then lifts up the HCW Magazine.

Jack: You actually read this garbage?

Creature takes hold of his yellow lemon slice, and squeezes it over his ice tea.  Once the juice is depleted, he drops the entire slice into the glass, then gives it a shake.

Creature: I thought I'd give the magazine a try.  I always like reading about myself.

Jack: Oh yeah?  Anything good in there on you, or us?

Creature smirks as Jack begins to scan the official magazine of the greatest wrestling company on the face of the planet.

Creature: Of course not.  Those pages are reserved for the mindless promoting of Inphino Blitz, the mercifully-departed Mercers, and all the other self-proclaimed superstars and athletes in HCW, like Markus Maximus.

Jack closes the magazine and tosses it back on the table with a grin.

Jack: Ah, you're gonna kick his ass Thursday.

Creature nods in agreement.

Creature: The little bastard has no idea what I have in store for him.  His first experience in the ring with me proved to be a humbling one, but obviously not humbling enough.  Now he wants a hardcore, no disqualification, anything goes match in the form of a Street Fight.  If he makes it out alive, he'll have a new found respect for me.  I guarantee it.

Jack Duncan chuckles to himself.

Jack: The Streets of Love match.  Wow.

Creature snorts.

Creature: Indeed.  Not only will I get to assault him with the usual barrage of chairs and other sharp or metallic, or sharp and metallic objects, but I will also get to slam a bouqette of roses, or a plastic heart, or a joyous Valentine's Day Card from Hallmark into his head.

Jack: I guess I'm pretty lucky I don't have to participate in any of those stupid Valentine's gimmick matches, huh?

Creature: The gimmick matches are just a ratings ploy.  But I hope that the front office, in all of their incompetence, is not looking for cute, comedy matches.  Because if that's what they are expecting in the Streets of Love match, then they'll be vastly disappointed when I cave Markus' skull in with...

Jack: With what?

Creature: With a God damn box of chocolates!

Jack rocks in his seat with laughter, and Creature nods along sarcastically.

Creature: You think it's funny?  You think's it funny, don't you?  The Undi-Fucking-Sputed World Heavyweight Champion...reduced to a comedy match for that cursed Jon Savage's enjoyment.  I can promise you Gill had nothing to do with this.  He's got far too much respect for me, and good wrestling matches, to book something this ludicrous.

Jack: I agree.  Kevin Gill is the best President HCW has ever had.

Creature: Damn straight.  Impecable taste in champions, wise match bookings, he's got it all.  And at Meltdown, he's going to have a few surprises up his sleeve as well.

Jack: Hell yeah.  Meltdown will be the Force's Pay-Per-View.

Creature: It won't be the only one.  Thanks to my raw wrestling ability, the likes of which no one in HCW can match now or ever, and Gill's intellect, the Creature Era has blasted off, and it will not stop, or even begin to slow down, for months, if not years, to come.

Jack grins and bobs his head around with excitement.

Jack: Yeah, yeah, and my unmatchable strength too, right?

Creature shrugs.

Creature: I suppose.  You're not one half of the HCW World Tag Team Champions for nothing.

Jack slams his fist into his HCW Tag Team Title belt, rattling the table.

Jack: That's right.  I broke Jon Savage's legs, by God.

Creature: I was there, heh.

Jack: And you know what else?

Creature grabs his glass of tea and takes a giant drink, almost inhaling the soothing liquid.  He slams the near-empty glass down, tilts his head, and glares at Jack.

Creature: What else?

Jack Duncan grins back at his partner.

Jack: I'm going to destory Inphino Blitz!

Creature sits back, with a look of surprise on his face.  He then smirks, and nods to Jack.

Creature: That's good to hear Jack.  Blitz is a thron in my side as long as he breathes, and I want you to see to it that he breathes no more.

Jack: That I can handle.

Creature places both elbows on the table and leans forward towards Jack.

Creature: Jack...just like in Pimp Industries, we are once again atop HCW.  We are the HCW World Tag Team Champions, the best team in HCW.  And I am the king of the mountain, the absolute best, the God of HCW.  Together Jack, we will rule for as long as we choose.

Jack: Last Thursday was a perfect example.  We had our way with Blitz, the Renegadez, everyone.  No one could stop us.

Creature: With Gill on our side, we are invincible.  And if last week was not proof of that enough, then this next Thursday will be.  Feburary 14th, Valentine's Day, we will make an impact, once again.  And we will start with Maximus.

Jack: You're going to rip him to shreds.

Creature: I'm going to choke the life out of him.

Jack: You're going to tear his arm out of its socket.

Creature: I'm going to burn him with the Flames.

Jack: His future is dim...

Creature: But the Abyss is dimmer, Jack.

Creature leans back in his chair, and slams a closed fist down on the table once again.

Creature: Markus Maximus of the Renegadez has dared to insult me, attack me, and insinuate that he will beat me.  Last week he lost, this week he dies.  I'm not one of these veterans who goes easy on the new guys.  I'm not the type of guy to feel sorry for the young guns, and step aside so the hungry rookies can take my spot.  I'm not Inphino Blitz, a man who will most probably get the piss slapped out of him by CJ Sinn.  I'm not Maniac, who still plays with all the little HWA rejects in the hell that is the HCW midcard.  I'm Creature.  I'm the Prince of Wrestlers.  The King of Men.  The Undisputed Champion of the World.  I do not like Markus, I do not respect Markus, and after Thursday night, I will not pity Markus.  He was man enough to step up and have the Street Fight signed, he best be man enough to suffer the consequences.  You see Jack, he can joke around all he wants, he can beat up all the washed up rock stars he wants, he can even play in graveyards all he wants, because the fact remains that I have a reputation as one of the most hardcore, extreme, sick, twisted individua-

Jack: (interrupting) Don't forget insane.

Creature nods.

Creature: Yes Jack, some even claim I'm insane.  You may be missing the point here, Jack.

A blank look overtakes Jack's face.

Jack: Huh?

Creature sighs.

Creature: Jack, this Thursday night, the world will witness the greatest HCW Champion of all time laying to waste one of the brightest up and coming stars in HCW.  This Thursday night, Creature will destroy Markus Maximus.  Simple as that.  Now then...let's go Jack.

Creature rises and gathers his three belts.  He drains the rest of his tea as Jack stands up with his HCW Tag Team Title in hand, and pushes his chair in.  Creature begins to walk in the direction of the parking lot, when Jack stops him.

Jack: Hey Creach, did ya already pay or something?

Creature turns back towards Jack and shakes his head.

Creature: Fuck this place Jack.  I'm the Undisputed Champion.  I pay when I choose.  Now...c'mon.

Jack shrugs and heads off towards Creature.  Still laying on the table is the copy of the HCW magazine...the evening breeze has blown it open to an article on the formation of the Renegadez.  In a small picture, Markus Maximus stands with his arm raised in victory...will that scene be revisited this Thursday night, or will Creature fullfil his promises and destory the bright young star with chairs, trash cans, plastic hearts, and boxes of chocolate?