Various money-related samples and sound effects including those of cash registers and jingling wallets can be heard over the public announce system. The famous introductory bass riff of Pink Floyd's "Money" kicks in, followed in full swing by David Gilmour's husky, solid vocals. Across the Zerotron flash the initials "C M C" in bold, lime green lettering, outlined in gold. Random stock market figures whiz both vertically and horizontally across the screen, followed by a series of images of skyscrapers, expensive vintage cars and a substantial amount of cash, in various currencies. "The Renaissance Man", Clancy McClean steps out onto the stage to a huge amount of heel heat. Titanium briefcase in one hand, he struts to the ring wearing a gold sports coat with grey business slacks, followed closely behind by famed GZW jobber, Mr. Klown. The rotund, 5'7 columnist stops beside a cluster of fans jeering and catcalling at the top of their lungs. He quickly raises his shiny briefcase and swings back as if he's going to hit them with it. Opting not to, the owner of the CMC Corporation just holds his nose up to them and continues to stride to the ring. With a chubby hand, he directs Mr. Klown to hold the ropes for him as he climbs inside the ring through the middle and third rope. Dusting off his expensive, custom made clothing, he signals for a microphone.
Clancy:
"Hush, cretins.
Greatness in its purest form stands before you."
Mr. Klown idiotically steps forward, retrieves a balloon from his trunks and proceeds to blow it up to full size, revealing a distorted image of his own painted face. He discards it before raising both of his hands as if in victory. Fuming, Clancy kicks the balloon out of the ring and flails his arms at the world renowned jobber.
Clancy:
"Not YOU, you
simpleton! Me... ME!!!"
The crowd let out a collective boo, obviously not impressed in the slightest with Clancy's opinion of himself.
Clancy:
"Oh,
forget it. You people aren't worth it. If you can cease to exert
noise long enough to allow me to cut to the chase, I'll be on my way before you
can say 'Cheeseburger'."
The crowd reluctantly falls silent.
Clancy:
"...? Ah,
good. I always knew you people had a shred of intelligence
somewhere in those thick Georgian skulls. Anyway... I'm here to let
you plebeians in on what could easily be the single best kept secret in the
history of Combined Championship Wrestling... Any guesses?"
McClean condescendingly raises the microphone towards the crowd, as if he were a parent looking to hear his child's first words. All he receives, however, is a blistering round of "A-HOLE" chants. He once again dusts off his attire, as if the crowd's words had stained them.
Clancy:
"Incorrect,
children. I am here tonight, willingly away from each of my fabulous
mansions and mistresses for one reason only. I am here tonight to unveil,
to unleash my newest client... No, it's not that useless oaf
Redrum. No, it's not some second grade female... Ladies and
gentlemen, invalids and imbeciles... I give you REJECT!!!"
The unorthodox introductory percussion to Nine Inch Nails' "Mr. Self Destruct" blasts through the speakers of the GZW Coliseum. The lights flicker on and off in time to the music, and as it kicks into full tilt, the short, well-built Reject steps out onto the curtain. Decked out in what was once one of Clancy McClean's custom made green blazers, sleeves torn off, the remains of a HKWF ring apron cover around his waist and a battered pair of Levi's, the six-time HKWF Hardcore Champion determinedly heads down the ramp and slides into the ring. The crowd give the man a mixed reaction, but he barely acknowledges them.
Clancy:
"Reject, my
man!"
Clancy holds out his hand as if for a high five, but Reject walks right through it and squares up to Mr. Klown as his music dies down.
***NOTE: COMMENTATORS MIGHT NOTE REJECT'S LACK OF RESPECT FOR CMC***
Clancy:
"Easy does it, Reject... All in its own good time, remember?"
Showing little to no regard for his supposed manager, Reject whips the microphone from McClean's sweaty grip.
Reject:
"Shut it,
McClean. You're the silent partner, remember?"
Clancy nods nervously in agreement as Reject holds the mic at his throat as if it were a knife.
Reject:
"Good, now get the
fuck out of the ring and let me inflict on this pitiful creature a mere ounce of
the rejection I've felt in my life."
With that said, Reject tears off the already tattered jacket to reveal his upper body of rock solid muscle covered almost completely in tattoos. This receives quite a pop from a section of biker chicks about six rows from the front. Clancy wisely climbs out of the ring as Reject charges at an unsuspecting Mr. Klown. Almost bisecting the man formerly known as Ass Clown with a particularly rough spear, Reject proceeds to beat the Klown to a bloody pulp in a matter of moments. Apparently satisfied, the sometimes psychotic Bethlehem, Pennsylvania native calms down and gets to his feet. He screams down at the bloodied jobber to get up. Several moments pass before the Killer Jobber does. Reject invites Mr. Klown to attack him, and he reluctantly does. The Klown lays in a few sloppy right hands before nailing his devastating botched DDT. Mr. Klown celebrates a little prematurely, however, as Reject is right back up and delivers a hard headbutt from behind, following through with his Rejection (Kneeling dragon sleeper). Mr. Klown taps out frantically, eventually passing out from the pain as several EMTs, referees and backstage personalities flood the ring and separate the two. The show goes to a commercial as Clancy grins at the destruction caused by his new client.