SWOOSH!  The sheet's on the king sized bed are thrown into the air and gently drift back down to the bed.  A figure writhes underneath the sheets, and sighs heavily.  He wears a mask, but it simply rests over his face, and is not tied on.  Other than that, the figure is nude.  The strong, muscular man turns his head and glances at a black digital clock positioned on a night stand.  It is 7:00 A.M., Wednesday morning.

Creature: No sleep...argh!  Maniac, Jeo, Wolverine...they all haunt me, but none more than Complicated!  How has he managed to crawl deep down inside my mind!?  Damn him!  Damn him and his mocking words!

Creature's bedroom sports ivory painted walls, with an elegant black fan constantly whirling in the air, suspended from the ceiling.  The centerpiece of the room is the large bed at the center, with golden support beams which stand five feet high at each corner, each ornately topped with the head of a dragon.  The bed itself sports a "jungly" motif, with soft silk sheets decorated with the spots and colors of a lepard.  Next to the bed is a nightstand, made of dark ebony imported from Africa.  It is handcrafted and features only one drawers, which is filled with magazines and photographs from Creature's career.  Atop it rests a black digital clock.  On the opposite side of the bed stands a massive dresser, complete with a huge mirror and many different drawers and compartments.  Only a few feets away from the dresser is the door to the bathroom.

Creature forces his weary body up into a seat position on the silken bed.  The mask over his face falls down and onto his lap, and he brushes it away, sending it to the floor.  He reaches up with stiff fingers and caresses his exposed face.

Creature: I need a shower...

Creature knocks the sheets away from his naked body once again, and climbs out of the bed.  He stomps towards the bathroom of his penthouse in New York, and angrily throws the wooden door open.  His bare feet slap the hard, cold marble floor as he plods directly toward the shower stall, and climbs in.

The bathroom features frigid, solid marble tiling.  The shower is directly across from the portal, and to the right of stands a coal colored pedestal sink.  Across from the sink, the great champion's toilet rests quietly, featuring the latest state-of-the-art comfort technology.  The ceiling is domed, and gives the room a feeling of great expanse.

Inside the shower, Creature continued to speak to himself.

Creature: Damned Invitational.  Too much stress for one man to fucking take!  What the hell do they think I am?  Some kind of machine?

The grumpy HWA Champion slowly reaches down and viciously twists the knob to summon forth the heated water.  He doesn't bother with the cold.  He stands their, with searing hot water pouring over his tense physique, unmoving.  He cannot focus.  The match this Thursday is preying on his mind, but more importantly, Complicated is preying on his mind.  Creature continues to mutter to himself in the early morning as the stall, with frosted glass door still wide open, begins to steam up.  Before long, the entire bathroom is filled with steam, and Creature's skin is burning red with heat.

Creature: Stupid Complicated...if I'm a second hand champ, then why the hell does he want my belt so bad?  What the hell is wrong with that vile puddle of vomit?  And Jeo...what a loser.  I guess he wants pity.  Hmph.  He can go to hell.  I'm glad he's prepared to die this Thursday, cause damn it, I feel like killing someone!

Creature reaches back down and half-way turns off the water, then exits the stall.  He pays no attention to the still dripping faucet, and barely focuses on drying himself off with a soft, green towel.  He lightly rubs himself down, more concentrated with talking about his opponents than anything else, and exits the bathroom.

Creature: HWA Champion...first ever.  And I still get no fucking respect.  Blitz gets respect.  What has he done?  He's no goo...ah, he is my partner.  He's a good man, and a good champion.

Creature twitches slightly and grabs a pair of golden and black boxers which he wore the previous day off the floor.  He pulls them on, still mumbling.

Creature: And where the hell do all these new fucks around here get the idea they can say whatever the hell the want?  They all think they're hot shit, stupid bunch of pricks.  Who the hell is Scandalous to talk trash about me?  Does he know me?  Does he know how damn good I am?  Shit...he will.  Oh hell yes, he will.  Cause I'm gonna break his fucking neck.

While spewing his problems to himself aloud, Creature manages to pull on some black leather pants, an old HCW Creature shirt, and some worn black boots.  He kneels down and grabs the mask he awoke with off the floor and examines it.  It is torn in several places, and he flings it across the room and grabs the first mask he sees off his dresser nearbye.  He quickly applies it to his face and ties it tight around his cranium, disregarding the fact that it is the blood stained mask he wrestled in at Born Again.  He quickly glances at himself in the mirror, but neglects to adjust anything about his sloppy and disturbing appearance.  Creature approaches the black door of his bedroom, and takes the golden knob in his right hand.

Creature: Maniac and Wolverine...those asses will both be there Thursday, hmph.  Good thing I always kick their stupid asses.  Try to screw with me will they.  Damn...I'm not taking any shit this time around.  I got more important business to be thinkin' about...stupid Complicated.

The HWA Champion exits his private quaters and steps out into his luxurious penthouse, located in New York City.  He steps down in the main room, and heads towards the medium-sized kitchen area a few yards ahead.

The main room of the penthouse is actually two levels, with a single step leading up to the front door, and a single step leading into the bedroom.  The floors are hardwood, and decorated only with a few expensive rugs.  A coffee table of the best quality stands at the origin of the room, and a black leather couch and another comfortable leather love seat orbit around it.  On the couch lie Creature's prize positions, for the moment- the Hardcore Wrestling Alliance World Heavyweight Championship, and the Hardcore Championship Wrestling World Tag Team Championship, which he of course shares with the HCW Champion, Inphino Blitz.  Several yarda away, surrounded by a marble top counter, is the kitchen, with top notch appliances.

He stares straight ahead as he moves towards the kitchen counter, and walks right into his black leather couch, upon which both the HWA Championship and his HCW Tag Team Championship sit, shinning brightly.  Creature looks down at the couch for a brief second and then physically shakes for a second.  He then kicks the sofa in rage, and moves on to the kitchen, rambling on like earlier.

Creature: God damn couch...get in my fucking way, will it.  I don't take any shit, not from some dumb ass couch.  Not from some dumb ass Complicated.  Him and his stupid words, trying to fuck me up...I'm the HWA Champion, damn it!  Everyone sittin' around fawning over Inphino Blitz, that bastard, cause he is HCW Champion and all that garbage...ugh.  I shouldn't say that.  He's my partner, and he deserves this.  He is a great HCW Champion.  He beat me, you know.

The HCW Hall of Famer sets foot in the kitchen area.  It is a good size, with more than enough room.  The refrigerator is stainless steel, complete with freezer and ice maker.  Creature possess no microwave- he believes them to be dangerous.  The oven is extra large, with six burners as opposed to the standard four.  It comes complete with a self-cleaning capability and built in timer.  Pots and pans hang from the walls and sleep in hand carved wooden cabinets, and numerous utensils can be found.

Creature strides over to massive refrigerator in the kitchen, and throws it open.  Despite staring right into its gaping maw, he mistakenly grabs an onion rather than the apple he came for.  He lifts it to his mouth and takes a hardy bite out of it, and then sets it down on the counter.  He chews the onion vigorously, as if not even tasting it, starring straight ahead at nothing.  His eyes are open, but glazed over.  He takes deep and long breathes, and ever now and then, he twitches.  Something is terribly wrong.

He sets the onion down on the counter, with one simple bite taken out of it.  He then resumes his zombie-like pace towards the door to the penthouse, and on his way, snatches up a dark overcoat which lay across the back of a chair.  He reaches the door and attempts to jerk it open, the but it is locked.  He pounds with a closed fist on the heavy metal door, and curses.

Creature: Damn it!  I'm fucking trapped!  How the hell do I get out of here!?  Oh.  It's locked.  Hahahaha...it's things like that that make Inphino Blitz a great HCW Champion.  He wouldn't make a mistake like that....but he's not better than me!  No he's not!  I'm fucking better...well, he's my partner.  We are equals.  I RESPECT Inphino Blitz.  Stupid Complicated!

Creature throws another enraged punch at the door, denting it slightly.  He then unlocks it and slowly opens it.  He sighs and steps out of his penthouse, then slams the door shut behind him.  There is a short hallway leading to the elevator which will carry him down to the lobby of the building he lives in.  It is lit with bright lights upon the ceiling, and decorated with reproductions of classic impressionist art.  The carpeting is red, and there are two potted plants which rest on brass stools up against each wall.

With a whirlwind raging in his head, Creature staggers down the hall like a zombie.  He plods ahead towards the golden elevator door, spewing obscenities as he does.

Creature: All those losers want me...who the hell are these people?  Rob Steele, Scandalous, Maverick, everyone has something to fucking say.  They all make my head hurt.

Creature stumbles up to the elevator and presses the call button.  He slumps up against the wall and places his head in his hands as he awaits for his transportation below.

Creature: Wolverine, Jeo, Complicated, Sanesca, Maniac, so many!  They all hate me!  None of them think that I can do it.  None of them truly believe that I can walk out as the HWA Champion.  Sure, Jeo may pretend to be pathetic and say that he knows I can kick his ass.  But he doesn't think that.  Oh yeah, sure, Wolverine may talk about my three victories over him, and how I nearly killed him, but what else did have to say, huh?  Huh?  He said he was going to get his God damn revenge!  Ah!  Fuck 'em all!

A loud DING is heard, and the doors of the elevator spread apart.  Creature slithers inside and drives his index finger into the button for the lobby, then falls back against the wall of the elevator and allows his head to hang between his shoulders.  The elevator itself is elegant, with mirrored walls with golden hand rails around the perimeter.  Creature places each hand on these rails as he sulks, soaking in the elevator music.

Creature: Snap out of it Creach...Hmph.  What is wrong with me today?  Something's not right.  Something hasn't been right for a while.

Creature stomps his foot against the emaculate carpeting of the elevator.

Creature: Damn it!  It cannot all be Complicated!  He is beneath me, and someone beneath me cannot harm me in this way!

The elevator jolts to a stop and the doors slide open once again.  Creature staggers out into the lobby, and glances up at the large gold rimmed clock which is positioned above the pair of swinging doors serving as an entrance.  He sighs and slaps his masked forehead.

Creature: Ahh...I forgot I told Madison to meet me outside my building for an interview.  Oh man...

The lobby is massive, with blue and red carpeting and a high ceiling.  There is a large receptionist desk directly across from the swinging doors at the front of the room, and a pair of elevators on the opposite side from Creature.  Several strategically placed couches and love seats complete the room, all made of the finest leather.

Creature: I suppose I can't get out this now.  I'll humor him, but only for a limited time.

Creature staggers forth and moves towards the swinging doors.  He can already make out the silhoutte of Matt Madison awaiting outside the building, through the glass doors.  As he stumbles, he feels nothing.  It is as if he there is a shroud surrounding him, imparing his judgement and senses.  He walks right into a middle aged woman, burying his shoulder into her chest.  She is knocked to the side, and Creature tilts his head in her direction.  She opens her mouth to speak out, but becomes so startled by the blood caked mask and the other features of Creature's appearance that she cannot muster the words.  Creature grunts and continues to the doors.

Upon barging through the glass and metal portal, Creature's ears are assailed by the gut wrenching, high pitched tone of Matt Madison's voice.

Matt: Right on time Creach!

Creature shifts to the left, the direction of the voice and brushes past Madison.  He takes a few more steps, then stops and leans against the solid concrete wall of the building.  Matt walks over to him, dumbfounded.

Matt: What's wrong?  No "Don't call me Creach," this time?

Creature shakes his head and allows it to drop oncemore.

Matt: Is it the Invitational?  Is that on your mind?  Let's talk about it.

Matt reaches into his coat and withdraws his pad, and Creature's head suddenly pops up.  He glares at Madison, his gaze cold and empty, almost lifeless.  Matt carefully places his other hand in his coat, this time for his pen while peering at Creature.

Matt: Are, are you okay?  Do you not want to do the interview right now?

Creature just stares at him from beyond the mask, unmoving.

Matt: Let me get my pen, and we'll talk about the Invitational.

Matt takes his hand slowly out of his coat, clutching a blue and bronze pen.  He raises the pad up and prepares to jot something down on it, when suddenly Creature lashes out and knocks the pen and pad right from his hands, onto the hard sidewalk below.  Matt jumps back, and glances down at his materials.

Matt: Creature?

Matt kneels down to pick up his supplies, when Creature steps away from the complex and talks two steps towards him.  Matt jumps backward, and his back lands flush against the frigid steel of a mail box.  Matt begins to shake and raises his hands in front of his face, while Creature stands in front of him, breathing heavily.  From the distance, a voice calls out, but Creature only hears muffled sounds.

Voice: Is everything alright over here?

Creature stands as still as a statue and stares down at Matt, when all of a sudden, a large hand clamps onto his shoulder.  Creature spins and verociously lungers out, striking down the appendage's owner with a powerful right.  Creature's vision is blurred, and but he can make out the form of a large figure falling to the sidewalk.  He watches the figure, unmoving, and it slowly begins to come into focus- first the hat, short, and with a gold emblem upon it.  Next, the black and blue uniform, then the long nightstick at the figure's side.  Opposite the blunt weapon, is a hand gun.  Creature begins to blink rapidly as the figure, now clearly a husky man, climbs to his feet.  It is a police officer- and once to his feet, he draws his gun and points it at Creature.

Officer: Alright pal, turn around!  Put both hands on the mail box.

Creature looks down at the ground for a moment, and then slowly complies.  As he turns, Matt Madison scurries away from the mail box and watches in awe as Creature is searched and cuffed by the officer.

Officer: C'mon.  I'm taking you in.

The cop drags a fist across his face, wiping away some blood from the corner of his mouth.  He then drags Creature off, towards his squad car.  The entire time, Creature stares straight ahead, in some kind of trance.  He is in no state to compete in the Invitational on Loaded, and is in need of serious help.
 
 
 

        Matt Madison sets a tape recorder down on the white counter, along with his driver's license and HCW ID and Press Pass.  The blonde man, in police uniform, grabs the license and other information off of the desktop and examines it while Madison checks his watch.

Matt: What a day...first Creach is arrested for assaulting that cop.  He acts so strange that they have a psychiatrist check him out.  He has to pay a fine.  Oh man.  I bet Savage is having a fit...and what about Gill?  His champion...acting this way?  Damn.  Damn, damn, damn.

Matt raises his left hand to his creased forehead and gentle rubs it, attempting to relieve some pain and stress, but only making his throbbing headache worse.  The officer places his information back on the desktop, and Matt reaches down with a heavy sigh and grabs it up.

Officer: You're all clear.  He's in that room right down there-

The cop points down a long corridor with several doors on both sides.

Officer: Second door on the left.

Matt pockets the items he was handed back and grabs the tape recorder.  He nods towards the officer.

Matt: Thanks...

Madison sets off down the brightly lit hallway, and quickly comes to the second door on the left.  It is a large metal door, formerly steel grey, but now tarnished and stained with a brownish hue.  He reaches down and takes hold of the large handle.  He pulls back, and the heavy door slowly opens a bit.  He applies a bit more force, this time taking a step or two back as he does, and brings the door open.  He is immediately stunned by the light from the room, and squints as he enters.

The room is completely white, with one bright flourescent light hanging from the ceiling over a small, white, rectangular table.  On either side of the table are two pure white, wooden chairs, and Madison takes a seat on the one that is not occupied.  He sets the tape recorder down at the center of the table, but does not press Record.  Instead, he folds his arms in front of him on the table and looks at the man across from him.

Matt: So...what happened?

The man across seated across from the HCW reporter has both arms outstretched on the table and his head hung low.  Between his hands is a small, brown bottle with a slightly larger white lid.  The man doesn't move or respond when Madison speaks.  Matt sighs.

Matt: C'mon, Creach...why did you snap?

Creature suddnely springs to life, and slams both hands down on the table, his masked head shooting up.

Creature: I didn't snap!  Okay...I didn't snap.  And I don't know what has happened to me.  Maybe it was the pressure...you know that come Loaded, it will be time to sink or swim, you know that, right!?  All my words, all my cocky ass talk...Thursday night, there is going to be a line of men who I have pissed off over the months who want their revenge, and it will be time to finally back up all of my claims.  Wolverine, Maniac, Jeo, Zev Sanesca, so many...even Complicated.  Hmph.  The simple fact is that come Loaded, it will be time for me to put up or shut up.  I'm not ready to shut up, Matt.  Not yet.

Matt nods his head and bites his bottom lip.

Matt: I hear you saw a shrink.  How did that go?

Creature tilts his head and peers at the tape recorder.

Creature: Why aren't you recording any of this?

Matt: Well...I will if you want me to.  It's your choice.

Creature just shakes his head.

Creature: What the hell do you think I am, Matt?  I'm not some fucking moron trying to get over on my God damn problems!  Record it.  Don't record it.  Do whatever the hell you want, I don't care.  For me, it's all about Thursday night, it's all about Loaded, it's all about the Invitational.

Matt nods once again campassionately, then quickly reaches over and depressed the Record button.  A red light instantly lights up on the side of the recorder, drawing a snort of disgust from the HWA Champion.

Matt: Why don't you tell us about the Invitational?

Creature glances down at the bottle of pills, and then back up at Matt.

Creature: Don't you want to know what happened with the psychiatrist?  Huh?  What about that?

Matt: Well, you seemed to take offense, I mean-

Creature: (interrupting) Just shut up Matt.  Shut up and listen.

Matt: Okay...

Matt sits back in his white chair and prepares to listen to Creature's story as intently as the recording device serving as a center piece for the dull, white table.

Creature: After I arrived at the police station, they took me in, to book me.  You know what that is, right?

Matt: Yeah, right, continue...

Creature: Anyway...I had to wait in line, like fifteen minutes.  Me!  The HWA Champion, wait in line!  Hmph.  When it came my turn for them to take my prints, the little pissant grabbed my hand, and tried to force my finger into the ink, like I wouldn't do it willingly or something like that.  So, in essence, I flipped out.  I beat the hell out of him.  And the cops, they all jumped on me and restrained me.  I heard some son of bitch yell to take me to get looked over, you know, by the shrink.  They cuffed me, they shot me up with a really mild sedative, and they loaded me up into another squad car.  They took me to another building, on the other side of town.  When I arrived at the psychiatrist's office...
 

        With two police officers at his sides, Creature was lead up a large, old, wooden staircase to the doctor's office.  His steps were heavy and echoed throughout the tall structure, and his head, once again, hung low.  He was silent and tranquil it seemed, but the sedative had long worn off.  At the top of the stairs, Creature and his entourage were greeted by a lengthy hallway, but the first door, directly in front of them, was all that concerned them.  He was led through the door, with its ornately hand decorated wood, and into a bookcase-dominated, dark, dead room, with a desk at the far corner, and a large leather couch at the center.

Officer: Sit down on the couch.

Creature nodded and now under his own will, took a seat on the couch.  The cuffs remained on.

Officer: Alright, we're going to be right outside.  The doc likes to see his patient one on one, so don't try any shit alright.

Creature ignored them and stared straight ahead, and listned closely as the door shut behind the officers.  A voice, from out of nowhere, then called out to him.

Voice: Hello, Creature.

Creature turned his head towards the desk, from whence the voice came, and watches as the chair behind the desk dramatically rotated to face him, revealing in it a tall, thin man in his late 50's.  He smiled at Creature.

Doctor: I'm Dr. Resnik.  I understand you are having a bit of a bad day.  Would you like to talk about it?

Creature continued to ignore Dr. Resnik, and stared straight ahead.

Doctor: Alright then.  Perhaps you would feel more comfortable if you knew something about me.  I'm 56 years old.  My wife passed away two years ago from heart disease.  I have worked in the office for 30 years now, and in 2 more I plan on retiring and moving to the Bahamas.  For recreation, I read and on occasion I have been known to watch Hardcore Championshp Wrestling, of which I'm sure you are familiar.  Let's see- I still masturbate, though only once every other week now.

Creature slowly turned his head and glanced at Resnik, who cracked a smile.

Resnik: Haha...I see you have heard enough about me.  But I have not heard anything about you.  It's only fair now that you return the favor.

Creature snorted.

Creature: Fair enough.  I masturbate when I'm not getting laid.

Resnik threw his head back with laughter.

Resnik: You never came off so funny when you were demolishing your opponents on TV!

Creature sat up and peered over at Resnik.

Resnik: Have I caught your attention?

Creature: Maybe.  Have you seen me on TV lately?

Resnik clapped his hands together and rose from behind his desk.  He moved over to the front of the desk and sat down on it, looking right at Creature.

Resnik: I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Creature nodded.

Creature: And so...I demolish my opponents?

Resnik: Yes, indeed you do.  You are very successful, Creature.  If you weren't, you wouldn't be HWA World Champion.

Creature sighed and shook his head.

Creature: If I was, I would be HCW Champion.  If I was, I wouldn't be defending the HWA Title in an Invitational this Thursday night, at Loaded.

Resnik: Ah...I think you misunderstood your employer's intentions.  The way I see it, you were put into that match not to cheat you out of the title, not by any means, but to showcase your abilities- Creature, when you retain the HWA Title and have beaten 6 to 7 challengers, if not more, you will be established as the best in the company.

Creature returned to staring off at space while Resnik spoke.

Resnik: Creature?  Is it the Invitational that is bothering you?

Creature tilted his head.

Creature: Not so much the Invitational, as the people in it.

Resnik's eyes lit up as he realized he had made a break.

Resnik: Who bothers you, in it?  Who do you not like, or feel you cannot beat?

Creature: Hmph.  It isn't that I do not like this man.  It isn't that I don't think I can beat him.  It's that...he was my friend.  He turned his back on me!

Creature shuddered as he pictured the man in his mind, and Resnik smiled.

Resnik: Is it...Complicated?

Creature sighed and raises his hands to his masked face.

Creature: Complicated...why?  Doctor...I hear his words, I see his face, I feel his moves at night.  I cannot sleep, not knowing that my former ally stabbed me in the back, cost me my dream!  And for what?  For what!?

Resnik: You have to realize Creature, that Complicated wants to succeed as much as you do.  He felt that you were his only way to the top, and he felt that his turning on you was justified because of the Tag Team situation.

Creature dropped his hands and glared at Resnik.

Creature: Tag Team situation?  What...not because Blitz and I won the titles?  He said it was because of Pimp Industries...I was a fair leader!

Resnik: He probably feels that because you didn't protest winning the titles with Blitz, that you turned your back on him- you betrayed the friendship first.

Creature: What?  No, this cannot be...gold is gold.  I won the Tag Team Titles, and he did not.  That was the end of it.

Resnik: Hmm...you keep mentioning Pimp Industries as well.  What did he say about that?

Creature: What did he say?  What did he say?  He more or less said that I took all the credit, when I did practically nothing.  He said I was a bad leader.

Resnik clasped his hands together in front of his lap.

Resnik: Do you think you were a bad leader?

Creature threw back his head and sighed.

Creature: No.  He is just jealous.  Jealous because as the leader, I won the HCW World and US Titles.  Jealous because I was also going to be a Tag Team Champion, with Fate.  I did get most of the credit, but only because I deserved it.  Maybe if he ever did anything, the dirty bastard-

Resnik: (interrupting) Hold it, please.  Refrain from foul language in my office.

Creature slinked back in his chair.

Resnik: You know, mentioned the HCW Title a while ago, as if you'd rather have it.  But I thought you were on good terms with your partner Inphino Blitz.  Shouldn't you be happy for him?  Let's discuss Blitz for a while.

Creature: Blitz...
 

 
        Creature slides his hands off the white table and sits back in his chair, like Matt Madison.

Creature: And that's basically all that happened.

Matt: What about Inphino Blitz?  And the diagnosis?  What did Dr. Resnik say?

Creature: Mild paranoa.  He gave me some pills to help calm me down anytime I start to feel, you know- paranoid.

Matt nods and continues talking to Creature, though in the back of his mind he cannot stop ondering why Creature left out the discussion on Blitz.

Matt: So you will be able to compete Thursday?

Creature: Most definitely.  I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Creature reaches out across the table and snatches up his bottle of pills.  He holds it tightly in one hand, and awaits for Matt to ask his next question.

Creature: So go on.  I don't have all day.  I have a plane to catch.

Matt: Right, to get to the show.  Me too.  So...what do you have to say about the Invitational, now that your head is clear?

Creature chuckles, then his head falls to the side slightly.  He reaches down with his empty hand and begins frantically jiggling the lid to the bottle until it pops open, and then opens his mouth and dumps several pills in.  He crunches down on the pills, emitting a sickening sound similiar to the breaking of bones, and then swallows.  Matt raises an eyebrow while Creature closes the bottle.

Matt: Should you be taking that many?  Are you sure you are okay?

Creature nods quickly.

Creature: Hell yes I'm fine.  Now...onto the Invitational.

Creature sits up in the chair and makes himself more comfortable before beginning.

Creature:  Thursday night, December 13th, 2001.  Slobber Knocker Invitational.  Creature vs. The World for the HWA Championship.  It's been two weeks in the making, and in twenty-four hours, it will be time to serperate the hairy from the hairless.  Wolverine, Jeo, and Complicated have all run their stupid little mouths about either revenge, or beating me for the title, or both.  Aside from them, the rest of my opponents, such as Maniac, have all remained relatively silent, and why?  Because they know that I am fucking better.  They know that on their best days, they could not touch me on my worst.  Now it occurs to me that all of my opponents will be out for blood...my blood.  Wolverine is back from the dead, and he seeks to bury my body and my soul this time.  Well to you Wolverine, I say that there is always more where the last came from.  I've kicked your ass all over the country, and I'm not done yet.  So I encourage to come down to the ring Thursday night, because you've talked about how bad you vacation in the casket was long enough- it's time that I give you a new Worst Memory to ramble about.

Creature pauses only to glance at the device on the table and make sure his words are still being recorded.

Creature: Jeo...back to make a statement.  Back to prove to the world that it is the heart, not the skill, of the man that matters.  Back to win a World Title.  You know Jeo, while your words- you know, the ones about me being your greatest fear, the ones about how many times I've beaten you, the ones about how you know I can kick your ass- flattered me, some of your words pissed me off.  Like when you said you would use the HWA Title as a springboard to the HCW Title.  Jeo, the HWA Title means just as much as the HCW Title.  If it didn't, I wouldn't bust my ass to defend it in this type of match.  Now, I do realize that you have a giant on your side, though he doesn't do much of anything.  So feel free to bring him down to the ring with you, because I will take him on as well if that's what I have to do to show you that the HWA Championship has two things in common with the HCW Title- they are both equally invaluable, and they are both two things you will never touch in your pathetic 30-plus losses life.

Creature once again pops open the bottle of pills, this time easier than the last, and takes another pill.  A look of concern crosses Madison's face.

Matt: Didn't you just have some?

Creature cocks his head as he snaps the bottle shut.

Creature: Do you have a problem with that?

Madison raises both hands, palms towards Creature and shakes his head.

Matt: No...you know what you are doing, I suppose.

Creature: You're damn right I know what I'm doing.  But you know who doesn't know what he is doing?  Complicated.  Complicated has been playing mind games with me for a while now.  He has talked the talked, he has walked the walk.  And because of him...because of his words...I take these now.

Creature slams the bottle down on the white table.

Creature: Complicated...I've had enough of you.  This Thursday night on Loaded, I will go through whoever I have to, no matter how long it takes me, no matter what pain I endure, to get you.  I will beat every one...Wolverine, Jeo, Maniac, Sanesca, the new Mercer boy, the Show, that Maverick loser, Red Alert, your stupid brother Jamal, Rage, Fallyn Angyl, hell, bring Chris Mercer back, bring back Chris Anarchy, give me Steve Knight, how bout a little Cobra Hawke?  I don't care who I face- I will beat them all, and I won't stop, until I get to you.  Because when I get to you, everything changes.  I stop going for the pin.  I stop locking on submissions.  I stop trying to win.  Now...don't get me wrong.  I will beat you.  I will retain the HWA Championship when it is all over.  But when you hit that ring- I'm going to try my hardest to make my time with you last as long as possible.  You've caused me a lot of grief these past couple of weeks Complicated...that's all over.  With my pills in one hand and my belts in the other, I will dish out retribution upon you the likes of which have never been seen, and you will bow down before me and know me as your god.  That's right Comp- I'm Really...Fucking...Mad.  And you better believe me when I say you will Feel...The...Abyss.

Creature rises from the chair and knocks it the side rather than pushing it in under the table.  He clutches his bottle of pills tightly and stares down at Matt.  He shakes his head and snorts, then walks around the table and throws open the large metal door.  Just before he exits, he turns back and looks down at Matt.

Creature: Matt...one more thing.

Matt rotates in his chair and looks up at Creature.

Matt: Yes?

Creature: Don't call me Creach.

Creature exits the small room and slams the door behind him.  Matt turns back around in his chair and pressed Stop on the recorder, then sighs.

Matt: We have a monster on our hands...