*A single cameraman was called in the early morning, around 3:50 A.M. to be precise. The instigator of the phone call is unknown, and the cameraman, Gregory Dixson, was awoken from a peaceful slumber in his hotel room. Dixson arose from his bed in the local hotel and quickly dressed and retrieved his video camera that he often uses to film Dusty J promos. He quickly makes his way to the parking lot, where he and Dusty's rental car is parked among the other EFW wrestler's rentals. He gets in and drives to the location the caller told him to go to, the site of this week's EFW Rage, the Bell Centre. When he arrives, he parks in the front of the empty parking lot and walks up to one of the entrances to find it, to his surprise, open. He opens the door and makes his way through the corridor. He walks past all of the EFW merchandise stands that have already been set up, and sees an opening where some stairs are. He walks down the stairs and finds himself in the main arena, in the real expensive seats; he keeps walking down the stairs to find a figure in the middle of the ring. All of the arena lights are off, all but one small spotlight that's beaming the center of the ring, that is. Dixson keeps walking and then opens the steel barricade that's used to keep the fans at bay, then up the steel ring steps, still trying to figure out who the person there is. Into the ring he goes, and he is standing behind the person, who is wearing an old DHW "Chance" t-shirt. bearing an image of Dusty J and DJ standing face to face on it. He suspects that the figure is indeed his friend Dusty J, and turns the camera on. At the sound of the camera stirring, the figure begins to talk in a soft, somber tone.*

Jeremy Nolin. Mr. Nolin. Jeremy. Jer. Nolinweezy. It doesn't matter what you call yourself, the fact of the matter remains, you are out of the loop. What do I mean Jer? Well it's pretty simple, all of the things we've been through in the past week, all of the things you've recently done to me, said to me, are all complete and utter bullshit. You claim you're so high and mighty for "giving me the opportunity." You didn't give me a damn thing Jeremy. I remember everything I had to do to get to DHW in the first place. You sent some scouts down to California, where I live, to take a look at me and a few other guys. So there we were, 5-6 wrestlers, all hoping to make it big, to make it where the true legends of professional wrestling made it; Nemesis, DJ, TJ Rocker, Scandalous, Genocide, all those big name guys that we admired and wanted to be like. Your scouts ran us, we ran what must have been over ten miles that day, in 98 degree weather, in the sand, barefoot. Then your guys brought us to the gym and made us all do pushups, situps, squats, pullups, crunches, bench press, until every other guy in there vomited. Every single guy, spare me, literally gave all they had, including their health, for a shot at Dangerously Hardcore Wrestling, and none of them made it.

*Greg moves to his left, trying to get infront of Dusty, but Dusty turns right along with him, not wanting his face to be seen by the camera or his best friend. In the corner, right by the turnbuckle, sits a chair, Dusty walks over to the chair and picks it up, then walks backward, so not to be seen from the front, back to the center of the ring. He places down the chair and then sits on it, lowering his head and slouching.*

These guys were some of the hardest working men i've ever come across, and they all faltered. Later that day, you personally showed up at the training facility to give the news to them. One by one, you told them that they weren't good enough to join DHW, that they weren't good enough to be apart of the greatest brand of sports entertainment in the world. But then, after you eliminated all the others, you came up and looked me in the eye, and said "You're in, congratulations." I had made it, who'd have thunk it? A rich, spoiled Hollywood child had surpassed all of the other outstanding atheletes that worked just as hard, and were just as talented. I couldn't believe my ears, and as soon as you delivered the good news, you told me that I would be competing in my very first wrestling match for DHW the very next day, at a pay-per-view event called Down With the Sickness. It was the so called "Rookie Battle Royal" and I remember it well; myself, J Ruler, Steve Craze, it was a great match. I won. It didn't fully sink in until later that night I was told that I would be getting a Cruiserweight Title Shot against Blaze, but maybe, just maybe, you knew I could beat Blaze. Whether or not I was a rookie, it just now, after all this you've been saying came to me, you didn't want me to succeed, you wanted me to lose, so you had TJ Rocker, a DHW legend, booked in the match too. It became a triple threat, and I almost won that title in just my second match with the company. Did I really "Blow it?" or did you set me up for failure?

*Dusty takes off the headband he is wearing and tosses it behind him, it hits Dixson in the face. Gregory simply picks it up and tosses it aside, understanding the anguish of his friend. Then, the spotlight dims a slight bit, and at this point the viewer can only make out Dusty's silhouette.*

After that, a few weeks passed, and I found myself in a main event tag match with Nemesis against the Hell Razors. Here it was, on Mutilation, live, three hall of famers and me, but why me? I asked myself that, and then, Nemesis turned on me, left me bloodied and beaten, and why? He gave no specific reason other than the fact that he didn't like me, but that isn't enough. In the end I guess it all makes sense, you wanted me to lose. The next week on Mutilation, not only do I have a match with the DHW champion Nemesis, but also one with my rival Steve Craze. I beat Craze earlier in the night, and then beat Nemesis later on, to the shock of everybody in the audience, locker room, front office, and fans across the world. The question remains though Jeremy, why was I booked twice in the same night? Why wasn't my match with Nemesis a title match? Why in the hell did Nemesis turn on me in the first place? All things that haven't been answered by him, you, or anyone else. Then, I won the Cruiserweight Title from TJ Rocker in a Ladder Match on Mutilation, and who expected that huh? Nobody.

King of Extreme was the very next week, and that night I proved myself, I beat Arc-Angel in the opener, and then I beat Linux in the King of Extreme final in Barbwire Madness. I was a double champion, living large, and by winning that tournament, I got my opportunity to take on DJ for the DHW Title at "Chance."

*Dusty then takes off the "Chance" shirt he was wearing and lays it down in front of him.*

While what you said Jeremy, may be true, about losing at Chance to DJ, yes, I lost. I did not blow it. DJ was perhaps the greatest World Champion in wrestling history, and for a 21 year old rookie to lose a match to him on the grandest spectacle of all wrestling pay-per-views is no major skin off of my nose, you want to come here, four years later, and tell me that I blew it? No Jeremy, I didn't blow it, I lost, I got beaten by the better man, and DJ was without a shadow of a doubt, the better man that night. I carry no shame in being defeated by him.

What is truly disturbing me right now though, is you saying that you made me. Jeremy, I made myself. You may have presented me with my opportunity, my platform, but god damnit, YOU DID NOT MAKE ME! I ran, I did the drills, I took the bumps, I gave my heart and soul to your product and I was lucky enough to get over. YOU did not get me over, it was all MY hard work, and it was the FANS who appreciated my hard work! Nolin, HOW DARE YOU come here and try to act like you're the highest and mightiest prescence in this business still? You aren't anymore. DHW is dead, and you're nothing more than a has been wrestler and promotor who is trying to make a quick buck by tangling with the guy from your old company who is still over and wrestling. I don't have to abide by what you say, because now, i'm not on your payroll, I don't do what you want me to do, and come Rage, i'm going to prove to you who has it and who doesn't. You'll see first hand the moves that I was taught, not by you, but by myself and the countless hours of hard work fellow wrestlers put in to teach me, THEY helped make me, THE FANS helped make me, AND I DAMN SURE TOOK THE LEAD ROLE IN MAKING ME. JEREMY NOLIN, YOU DID NOT MAKE ME!

*Silence bestows upon the empty arena for a few moments until Dusty mentally gets it together. He then begins speaking again.*

It all makes sense now. Why I was booked twice, why you threw TJ into the match, why every single time it looked like I had a fair shake that the odds were stacked against me, you wanted it that way. You didn't want to make me like you claim you did, you wanted me to fail, but it didn't work. And now you're going to pay the price and be proved wrong once and for all.*

*With those parting words, the remaining dim light that was in the ring is now completely gone, as the entire arena fades to black.*

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