*The sounds of Beethoven's 5th symphony can be heard through the radio as the EFW camera crew makes nice work of opening up on it with a zoom shot, slowly fading out to reveal Dusty J. Dusty is either feeling very sick today, or he just thinks it's Halloween. He's decked out in full British style wardrobe, complete with UK flag pants and a Beatles t-shirt. He's lounging about in what appears to be the living room of an exquisite estate. He is sitting beside a small table with cups of tea in a circle surrounding crumpets on it. He lifts the cup of tea and drinks it in his best Hollywood Hulk Hogan imitation from the movie "Mr. Nanny", pinky finger in the air and all. He sips as loud as he can, very obnoxiously, and sets the cup back down on the table before picking up a crumpet and examining it with so much precision you would think Jessica Simpson entered the room wearing nothing but whipped cream. He momentarily sets down the crumpet and picks up the bag lying on the floor in front of him. He takes out a magnifying glass and holds it in his left hand while picking up the crumpet again with his right. He looks through the glass and puts on his best thoughtful face. After a few more moments of "careful examination" he conceeds.*

Hey Greg! Come here for a second!

*Enter Gregory Dixson, Dusty's best friend and personal cameraman. Greg is also feeling quite British today, as he is wearing an outfit that would resemble something Elton John wore in the 70's, a very strange looking orange and white furry outfit that reminds one of orange sherbert ice cream, and matching fuzzy orange/white sunglasses. He walks over to the couch that sits horizontal of the chair Dusty is sitting in and plops down on it, all 200+ pounds of him.*

What can I do for you old chap?

Well first of all you can tell me what you're doing wearing that ridiculous outfit.

Ridiculous? You said it was British Day! So i'm wearing a British person's wardrobe, it's Elton John man!

Oh come on, that's the stupidest looking outfit i've ever seen, take it off dude.

Stupid? At least i'm being British.

What's that supposed to mean?

Well, you're listening to Beethoven's 5th symphony, and I have no problem with any classical works, especially those by the greatest composer of all time. I do, however, have a problem with the fact that Ludwig Von Beethoven wasn't British!

He wasn't?

No man, he was German!

Well how was I supposed to know that?

His first name! Ludvig! Dead giveaway! Ding ding ding!

Ok ok, sorry for not being as well informed on composers, it's not like anybody listens to classical music anyway.

But I enjoy the occasional...

So Greg, do you have a scouting report on this Jimmy Maxwell character that i'm going to be wrestling on Rage?

Nothing more than you do. The only things I really know is that he's a member of 8 Ball Inc and he's from Baltimore.

That's not much to go on. No film? Nothing?

Only from a couple of weeks ago when he came out and clotheslined you.

Yeah...slimy little creep.

You're going to be ready for action though man, don't worry about it. For all we know this Jimmy Maxwell guy is nothing but another one of the 8 Ball Inc henchmen, there simply for design and an extra man in case something breaks out. You'll handle him.

I think i'll be able to, but overconfidence leads to cockiness, and cockiness leads to not being fully in the game, and not being fully into the game means the guy who is will beat you, that's not going to happen to me. I'm always into the game whether i'm down by a couple of goals, or ahead by a lot.

Dusty...goals?

Yeah, it is British Day after all, and in soccer they don't call them points, they call them goals. You know? Soccer...British?

Well then shouldn't you be calling it football?

Oh yeah! Thanks for that. Football, need to remember, football.

Now, what did you call me in here for in the first place?

Oh yeah, I forgot to ask, what the **** is a crumpet anyway?

Oh, crumpets? Crumpets are a small yeast-raised bread that is about the size of English Muffins. Very tasty I think.

*Dusty looks at Greg. While Greg is a great guy to talk and hang out with, his opinion on food doesn't really matter because he eats just about anything that's put in front of him. All that aside, they do look scrumptious. Dusty picks the crumpet up again and takes a nibble, then nods and makes an "mmmmm" sound in between bites.*

Alright Greg, get on to whatever you were doing, that's all I wanted.

*Greg gets up from the couch he was sitting on and walks towards the table where the tea and crumpets are. He grabs a cup of tea and about 5 crumpets and turns away, then back at Dusty.*

What's with the magnifying glass and the detective bag?

You know, Sherlock Holmes. He was British right?

Yeah, he was.

And Watson?

And Watson.

You know Greg, I think i'm a lot like Sherlock Holmes, and you're kind of like my Watson. Together, we solve the greatest mysteries this side of Scotland Yard. We uncover hidden truths about the world's greatest criminals and put them to justice! Your hypothesis is always incorrect and I come in with a brilliant discovery and solve that case single handedly. I'm a great detective.

*Before Greg laughs out loud at his friend he departs. Dusty has gotten a little too into British Day. Dusty then stands up and looks to the camera. He picks up his detective bag and magnifying glass before walking over to the fire place and standing in front of it, shoulders straight, head tilted, and bogus pipe in his mouth.*

Jimmy Maxwell...you sir are a criminal! For two weeks ago you blindsided myself and my associate Jermaine Ruler, and lead an attempted onslaught by 8 Ball Inc. That doesn't sit well with me. You see, people generally don't take a liking to that kind of stuff, so now we will meet on Rage to settle this little difference between us. I can assure you sir that I am not someone to be taken lightly, and if you think you're going to make like Manchester United and cruise through the competition, you are dead wrong. I'm not going to roll over like the United States mens soccer team, i'm going to make like David Beckham and kick, or punch, or neckbreak, or piledrive my way to victory.

Have you ever heard of The Beatles, Maxwell? I'm pretty sure that you have, and if not, please don't listen to music ever again. The Beatles are the greatest rock and roll band of all time, and they of course are British. Well consider me the Paul McCartney of Elite Fantasy Wrestling. I can make hits, that's just what I do. I make the greatest matches out of all the others, I can be a chart topper no matter what I do. I'm just that good, that charismatic. It doesn't matter if i'm in a tag team like Sir Paul was with the Beatles, and it doesn't matter if i'm all by myself, the fact remains that the charts will be lighting up, and the request lines will be flooded with fans asking, begging, pleading that they see more of Dusty J. Well ask and they shall receive on Rage, because i'm going to show you what the Top of the Charts looks like when I dive off that top turnbuckle and come down with more impact than Ginger Spice leaving the Spice Girls.

You may want a warm welcome into EFW Jimmy, but you won't be receiving it from me. Your reception will be that of "Coupling" to the United States, nothing but complaints and death threats to the creators. Don't worry, I won't threaten to kill you, but maybe after I nail you with the Gangbanger and after you awaken from unconciousness, perhaps you'll wish you were dead. Just be carefull Jimmy my ol' chap, i'm only Hollywood Gold, with a razors edge so sharp that it just might cut you if you get too close, so word to the wise, you can try me, but you aren't getting by me, see you at Rage.

*Dusty walks back over to the recliner he was sitting and smokes the pipe that has nothing in it. He turns on the tv by clapping and watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail.*

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