*XWA house shows, Los Angeles California, intermission. The same day that Dusty J embraced Christopher Jefford, just moments ago it transpired, as a matter of fact. The fans have witnessed what has been, so far, a first rate wrestling card from the XWA, but, little do they know, after intermission, they're about to be in for something that none of them expected, because Christopher Jefford, who, as Dusty J, dropped a world title in the same arena just hours earlier for a different promotion, will be making his first appearance as an XWA wrestler. After Christopher and his associate Gregory Dixson left Chris Wall's office, they were called back to the arena by a backstage road agent, who informed Jefford that he was to speak his mind about his upcoming match against mOp inbetween the action. Now sitting in a locker room all his own (The contract called for it.) Christopher was ready to go out and make yet another impact in the wrestling world. He had taken off his Dusty J ensemble, and was now in a black wifebeater, sweatpants, and had a XWA visor on his head. Gregory Dixson is wearing his casual attire, polo shirt, nicely pressed blue jeans, slacks, not your typical cameraman. While he has been in the business for 10 years, he still is only 34 years old, yet has no current position with the company other than "Christopher Jefford's Friend."*

Hey Greg.

Yeah man?

From what I know, these XWA guys are already stocked with cameramen, but, there is still a way you can work here, and on an even grander stage than just filming me kicking people's ass.

Go on.

How about you be my manager?

*Dixson thinks about it for a moment. He had always taken great pride in being on of the best sports entertainment cameramen around, and now he wasn't wanted for that, he was wanted to be a manager. He ponders it for a moment more before responding.*

Now, don't get me wrong, I know what a manager is, but you know, what exactly would I do? Cheer you on? Tell you when your opponent is going for his finisher so you can counter it? What?

I was thinking more like diverting the officials attention so I can sneak in a low blow, or helping me get more pressure with the abdomenal stretch, or putting my foot on the bottom rope when the situation calls for it, all that stuff.

Chris, that's not like you, you don't wrestle like that.

I know, but remember, I got screwed today, it's not happening again, i'm going to win, and win at any cost.

That screwjob was a once in a lifetime thing, you have a written contract now, it's not going to happen, you heard what Chris Wall said.

Do you think I give a rat's ass what Chris Wall says? I trust him about as much as I trust an ex felon with my wallet. The bottom line is, being a nice guy to those officials, to promoters, to fans, got me nowhere, and now, i'm going to screw right back, i'm going to come out on top, it's about me Greg, i'm the best talent they have, and i'm going to prove it.

By cheating?

No, by winning matches, by any means necessary, are you in? You going to be my manager?

*Dixson sighs, obviously disheartened by the remarks made. But even still, Jefford is his best friend, and he does need a steady job.*

Ok man, i'll be your manager, and do whatever it takes to make sure you come out on top.

I knew you'd come through Greg, you never let me down. Now come on, let's go announce our prescence with authority to these people.

*Jefford and Dixson head out of the locker room and into the hallway of the arena. Most wrestlers are in the break room, eating lunch and watching the matches, only a few backstage hands are in the halls. Chris Wall has not yet made the announcement that he has signed the former Dusty J to anyone. Jefford and Dixson make their way through the hallway and to the gorilla position. Intermission is about to end and the fans are ready to buckle in for another hour plus of wrestling. But before the participants can make their way out, Jefford struts between them as they are standing infront of the tunnel. He makes his way out of the tunnel, followed by Dixson, to the suprise of the wrestlers and fans. The fans that know Dusty J cheer, the fans who don't really do anything. Jefford slides into the ring and is tossed a microphone as Dixson makes his way up the steel steps and into the ring. The crowd quiets as Jefford raises the microphone to his lips.*

Some of you may know me, and some of you may not, but whatever the case may be, I am here. You know, I just need to get this off my chest, and as cliche as it may sound, it's great to be here working for this great company infront of you great fans!

*As per wrestling fans nature, they give Jefford the cheap pop he was looking for.*

Now that I got that formality out of the way, the fans that know of me, know me as Dusty J. But as you can see, i'm not looking anything like I would when i'm inside of the ring competing, and that's because I can't be Dusty J anymore. You see, the powers that be here in XWA don't want Dusty J here. So, in an effort to regain my manhood as Dusty J, i'm going to ask this fan right here to step into the ring.

*Jefford points to the first row, where the president of the Dusty J fan club is sitting. The fan, Jimmie Smith, had been in the arena earlier to witness the screwjob, and stuck around for the XWA show. Smith hops over the guardrail and gets into the ring, then handed a mic by a ringside attendant.*

So Jimmie, do you think Dusty J should be in this company right now? The real Dusty J, not Dusty J with a different name?

Hell yea Dusty, as the president of the Dusty J fanclub, i'm here to say, WE WANT DUSTY J.

*Jefford snickers, as he's not at all upset over the name change, nor cares what even his most loyal fans think.*

You know Jimmie, I have to hand it to you, you run a great fan club, and the Dusty J Maniacs out there are great, I wish I could meet them all and give them all something to remember me by. But Jimmie, as the president, i'm going to give it to you, so here it is, something to remember me by.

*Jefford takes his microphone and clocks Smith in the back of the head with it, causing the 16 year old kid to fall to the ground. Dixson's eyes widen in shock as Jefford lifts Smith and sets him up for his new finishing manuever, the Jefford Spike. He nails the spike on the kid, then lifts him up and tosses him out of the ring onto the cold arena floow, much to the displeasure of the sold out arena.*

So gullible, so damn gullible kid. And you fans, so damn gullible. You know, I used to be exactly like you people, until I realized that you all don't win me matches, you do nothing but distract me! Time after time I could put someone away, and you could cheer and want me to pose for you like some damn ape at a zoo! Well i've had it! Dusty J represents all that i'm no longer, weak! My name is Christopher Jefford, CHRISTOPHER JEFFORD! And i'm going to be the first XWA World Heavyweight Champion! Why? Because I have eliminated WEAKNESSS, and when there is no WEAKNESS, you can't lose. You fans showed it by believing that line of crap I fed to you, about loving the fans, and loving this company; well let me tell you something, I HATE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU! And i'm in this company for MONEY, GLORY, FAME, the reasons that I should've been having all along for being a wrestler, but didn't realize until recently.

*The fans boo loudly, never seeing such a rotten display by anyone. Some fans even begin throwing their soda cups into the ring to show their dissaproval.*

Now, speaking of weakness, on Breakdown, I have a match against a guy called mOp, and let me say this, nobody that i've seen has shown more weakness than him. I saw him on the monitor, shrugging me off, disregarding me like i'm nothing special. Well he's dead wrong. What mOp fails to realize is that I have no weakness, oh, there's that word again. mOp, let me tell you something, you're not facing the pushover I once was, you are going to be taking on the future of this company. The first champion of this company, that's going to be me, and you, much like everybody else, is trying to get in the way. Well it's not going to work bucko. Christopher Jefford does not lose, and to assure that you won't try to cheat me out of the main event that I so rightfully deserve to be in, I have my manager here, Gregory Dixson, who is going to make sure that the match is 100% fair, I PROMISE!

*The fans, obviously not believing that last comment, begin to toss even more littler into the squared circle. Jefford chuckles before picking up a bag of peanuts that was hurled at him, and throwing them back at a fan.*

Come on fatass! Get on in here, see if I don't knock your teeth straight!

*The angry fan makes a dash for the guard rail before being restrained by security. Jefford laughs his approval, knowing that the fans can't touch him.*

In closing mOp, I don't know where you get off thinking that you even have the slightest chance in hell against me, but it's very off base. And when i'm done with you, i'm moving on to Hell in a Cell, and capturing this stinkin company's World Heavyweight Title, and i'd like to see any so called XWA "Superstars" try to stop me.

*Jefford exits the ring, with Dixson following five paces behind in dissaproval that everything his friend just said/did. On his way to the back, a bottle of soda is launched and hits Jefford in the head. He motions for security, who takes the culprit away to Christopher's sick delight. He makes his way to the back, and the regularly scheduled matches resume.*

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1