Come on Greg, you know that i'm the best damn guitar player you've ever feasted your eyes upon.

*Dusty then plays...well we're not really sure what he tried to play, but whatever it was, it was extremly loud, and very annoying. He glances over at Greg with a look as if saying "Oh yeah, i'm the shizzle". Greg rolls his eyes and gets up from behind the drumset, then unhooks Dusty's guitar from its amplifier.*

That sucked, Dude. Was that even supposed to be a real song?

Yeah man can't you tell? That was Smells Like Teen Spirit.

Well it certainly did stink up the place...

Watch it.

I did, and I heard it to, a double shot of pain.

*Dusty chuckles and sets the guitar down. He heads over to the mini bar that sits across from the drums and takes a seat on the barstool behind the counter. However, since Dusty doesn't drink, the bar is bare. He looks around at the empty spaces where the beverages should be, then back to Greg.*

Hey Greg, did you take a look at that Snypes feed on the internet earlier?

Yeah, actually, I did. Why?

Because this is how I feel about it.

I'm not following.

Empty bar.

Huh? What?

Well you know, it was like an empty bar. Nobody goes to a bar that they know has no alcohol in it. That's how people felt watching Jake Snypes today, nobody wanted to watch all of it because they either would fall asleep or die of boredom.

You know what I mean right? It's just...Snypes has one thing on me, the EFW Worlds Title Belt. That's it, that's all. Sure he has the right to brag about it at first...but how many times have we heard about how I "choked" and how Jakey Poo will discuss how close i'll ever get to the World Title belt. Well Greg, granted he did beat me, but honestly, you don't see me making cereal metaphors every week do you?

Not last I checked.

Exactly. In fact, I have an even better one today to lay on you Greg. Musical instruments.

Really now?

Yeah, try this on for size.

*Dusty gets out from behind the minibar and heads back over to the guitar that he played oh so well. He picks it up and looks back at a confused Greg Dixson.*

Jake's like a guitar. You see, guitars can sound really really good, or really really bad. Since we are talking about Jake Snypes, it sounds really really bad. He's like an out of tune guitar. He sounds like crap. Is annoying to listen to, suffers from diarrhea of the mouth, all that good stuff.

That sucked more than your guitar playing...

A critic eh? Well try this one on for size. Jake is like a drumstick, and i'm like the drums. He starts lightly tapping on me, on my nerves, this is before Rising Dreams, then he starts tapping faster and harder. Eventually, and that would be present day, he just starts wailing on me, until eventually he breaks, just like the drumstick will break, but the drum, me, is still there. The stick had had it and it cracked because the drum just wouldn't give in to it. The constant verbal pounding that Snypes gives me week in and week out won't mean anything on Monday night, because in the end, he will break, and I will remain steady, headstrong, and come out victorious.

Now that one was leagues better than the guitar one. Kudos Jizzle, kudos.

Thank you, thank you. You ready to go to the concert?

It it time already?

Yessir, Not at Fault live and in Ireland! What are the odds of that?

Let's get a move on.

*Dusty and Greg go upstairs and head out the front door. Since Dusty's car is out of gas, they have to take Greg's rented Volvo. Dusty gets in on the passengers side and reaches for his seatbelt, but then noticing that his side has no seatbelt. He then goes to turn on the radio and notices that there is no radio, just sort of an empty space where it should go.*

Greg, where on earth did you get this piece of junk from?

The rental car place, same place you got the Corvette. This thing was really really cheap.

I can believe that...it could use a pimping.

*Dusty and Greg head off to the Athletic Grounds parking lot, where Not at Fault are performing. Dusty and Greg stand near the back, away from the commotion, and enjoy the awesome set that only this fantastic band can play. Afterward, Dusty and Greg head over to the trailer that EFW provided for the band. They go in, but only Daniel Robere, the band's lead guitarist is there, reading EFW magazine.*

Hey man, good show out there.

Oh man, Dusty, hey, thanks. What's up what are you doing here?

Well come on, everybody and their grandmother loves Not at Fault, you guys are the best.

Well what can I say? We are aren't we? But hey man, so are you, the best wrestler in EFW.

Thanks man, but you know a lot of people don't think so because i'm not the champion, hoping that will change tomorrow night.

It will man, Snypes is weak as hell, you have his number inside that triple cage.

Speaking of which, I hear they're putting that together as we speak inside the building.

Do you think we could go sneak a peek?

I don't know, let me go check with security.

Alright.

*Greg walks off the go check with security.*

Dusty, really, you're better than he is, we all know it. We all believe in you man, you may be the underdog, but people do give a damn, as a fan I know I do. You know, you're like us, Not at Fault, and Snypes is like Kangoskatbot, they suck, and you're the next big thing.

Thanks man.

Don't even mention it.

Where is the rest of the band?

They're out asking girls if they can have their clovers, funny eh?

It's certainly one of the more creative perverted things i've heard in a while.

*Greg walks back into the tent nodding. He motions over to the building.*

We're clear to go in and check it out.

Awesome, let's go.

*Dusty and Greg bid farewell to Daniel Robere and head into the stadium. They see the ring crew putting up the dreaded triple cage, a process that probably takes hours upon hours to complete. Dusty takes a look at the cage and nods silently, knowing that in a little over 24 hours from now he and Snypes will duel in this structure.*

I'll tell you what Greg, Snypes likes to talk about cake, well here's one for you, triple layered, and at the top will be the icing, the EFW title belt, but Snypes has let that icing get to him, he's had way too much, and now his head has swelled up so match that he might break his own neck. Tomorrow night Greg, we're going to make some music together, some heavy metal, if you'll excuse my bad pun. But you know in talking with Dan Robere and listening to Not at Fault, i'm reminded of my favorite song of theirs, Check Your Head, and it applies to Jake Snypes perfectly. After I take that title belt from him, he'll be asking where his car and money went, wondering if he blew it all, asking if he has anywhere to go, or even if he can show his face after losing to the guy that he claims has nothing on him. After tomorrow night, he won't be a star, so he might as well start not trying to pretend to be something that he's not, now. Tomorrow night Greg, tomorrow night...

*With those parting words, Dusty and Greg head out of the stadium and back to the rental house to make more music, or, for the sake of Greg Dixson's ears, just sample the new tracks from the upcoming Not at Fault album.*