"Jump Around" by House of Pain

::...Narration...::

(Quiet...A Single Voice...Reaching Out.)

Sanarrator: "It was destiny, my friends, a pre-determined fate, if you will. Gary Brown and Jimmy Harmon were going to end up crumbled peices of mass whether they admitted it or not...win, loss, or no decision, it mattered not. The two of you recieved due payment for the lies you spoke this week, and to tell the truth, I'm sure that everyone enjoyed it rather thoroughly. In fact, The Franchise has recieved many compliments on his work, that I know you would have given him yourself had you not been busy sniffing skid marks and what not. Ah well, perhaps next time, the Sexagenarians will have a chance...or not."

(A Rest.)

Sanarrator: "Progessing forward, though, we find ourselves matched against not one, but two men, in a triple threat match, and one of those men, both The Franchise and I know VERY well. That man...is Nathanial...Rezno...Glore...Yes, 'The Drunken Icon' himself has been on somewhat of a tear, recently, with victories over MISSLE, JD Lawson, and yes, even 'The Franchise', but, never fear, for his victory was indeed tainted, as The Franchise never pinned. But, alas, we still find ourselves in a match with this 'formidable' opponent, who, for some reason or another has become the poster boy for narrator hunters. Yes, narrator hunters. Nathanial Rezno Glore likes to hunt, and obliterate my kind, but he has tried once before, and failed. So what makes him think he can succeed this time...in fact...the last time he faced The Franchise, before that match at Cyberslam, he FAILED to pin The Franchise and he, himself, was pinned by the ONE and ONLY Jason Simmons. Simmons, Glore...Jason 'Fuckin'' Simmons...the same man who was laughed at by Alexander Maximus, and you, were pinned by him. Saddened? Depressed? Or merely too much under the influence to notice that you've created your own fantasy world, in which too much booze and too little talent are good things, and too much skill is a bad thing. Perhaps, you'll awake from your alcoho-induced to find yourself on the bottom of a pile of wood, blood dripping from your forehead, and saliva streaming from your mouth."

(A Deep Breath Of Air.)

Sanarrator: "Or, maybe, we should talk about the odd man out in this match...the reject...the joke...the mockery of all that is a quarter-of-a-way decent...Brock Williams. It would be an understatement to say The Franchise has a history. Enemies, turned teammates in the New Gunz, and now, turned bitter enemies once again as Da Brocksta has aligned himself with that which we hate...Jim Harper. I wonder, however, how this came to be...when last we saw of Brock...and he had abandoned the Gunz for the corporate offices, The Franchise's anger for him was quite apparent, and Brock made it clear he wanted no part of The Franchise. Stangely enough, we find ourselves matched up with the 'Suprema-SexA', and forced to listen his mindless dribble as we TRY and entertain ourselves. Perahps, we should include Brock in the same group with the Sexagenarians...the scrap heap. Oh, wait, I'm sorry Brock, I forget you haven't gotten past one syllable words yet with your playschool teacher turned blatant homosexual, Jim Harper. Sorry, Brock, but I'm not a tutoring service when it comes to vocabulary...I'm here to teach you why, to steal a phrase, 'resistance is futile', and it is Brock...it truly is. So do yourself a favor, Brock, don't spread lie...don't say you beat The Franchise, damaged The Franchise, or abused The Franchise in any way, shape, or form, because lieing only gets you in more trouble....Just ask Brown and Harmon."

(Fin.)

::...Three Times The Fun...::

...As the scene fades in you find yourself looking out on a large body of a water, a lake, you presume. Looking from a broader perspective, you see trees surrounding the lake, and mountains surrounding the trees. You presume that you are somewhere in the country, quite possibly a large mountain range. Scanning down, you see a small wooden cabin, on the lake, a short pier stretching out from a small front porch. Looking in closer, you can see that he is sitting on a chair, on the porch, donned in his black slacks and black stretch t-shirt. The quiet mountain air, seems to be refreshing him. He glances out on the lake, and speaks to you with a soft assurity....

Justin: So, how'd you get yourself into this one, Brock? Who bribed you into this match? Hell, we all know that ever since the summer, you've been hiding from me, so why suddenly jump into the ring with me, now? God knows you're the biggest coward FWF has...why the sudden change of heart? Did Harper do something to convince you to jump into the ring with me? Or have you finally cracked something and decided to face the man who probably hates you the most in FWF, right now. Yes, Brock, I, The Franchise, hate you...you turned your back on me, just like Brown...The New Gunz...remember that Brock? Oh yes, you remember it quite well...but what happened? You LEFT us. You just up and dissappeared, like it was nothing, and didn't even tell Conway, or myself. Yet, for some reason, you're back, in MY territory, in MY federation, fighting ME, and you're into something that you can't get out of, nor will you get out of it. You're going to have to face something that you never wanted to in the first place...in fact, the last tame we tangled, back on May 12, 2000, I believe it was I who beat you, right Brock? I'm sure you remember that one. You probably will remember it for a long time, but then again, there's so many losses on your record how could you possibly remember that specific one, right Brock? Ah well, at least then, you'll be able too look at Saturday as...just...another....loss.

...He lifts his head to the side, and glances downward toward the rickety wood making up the porch. A slight smile comes from his face, and the expression is one that you'll remember for quite a time. Taking a deep breath, he sits back in his chair, and closes his eyes, thinking out loud...

Justin: Glore...Nathanial Rezno Glore..."The Drunken Icon" as some say...the same man whom I fought only weeks ago at Cyberslam and managed to win that match by pinning none other than the now gone, Trent Storm. Yet, somehow, he takes this as a good thing...he speaks of the fact that he beat me, yet, he still hasn't pinned me. In fact, he's lost to me, and, dear god forgive me, Jason Simmons. Yes, this same man who is now the number one contender, lays claim to the next shot at JD Lawson's World Title, when he has yet to beat the man who obviously deserves it more, The Franchise, and so, as it stands now, if Glore has his way, he will get his shot at Resurrection, while I will be forced to run roughshod through competition like Brock Williams and Gary Brown. Yet, some think that I should allow it to happen, and that I should sit back, and let Glore recieve his shot, because he "deserves" it. Well, things may have changed, but I never realized that 5 months of run-arounds with the likes of that Italian, and Disco Sut, consitute as hard work, while nearly a year and a half of nothing but your absolute best every FUCKING night, while getting ROBBED every FUCKING night, is merely statistics to an incompetent world. You want that shot at Resurrection, Glore? You want to hold that World title? You want to show the world that you're not just an idiotic drunk with a temper? Well, then I say, BEAT ME. That's right, Glore...BEAT ME...you haven't earned SHIT in your five months here...you've never held a singles title and you've yet to show your desire for this federation. You've yet to lay your entire life on the line in order to win a single match. You've yet to lay there in the ring, unconscious, blood streaming from your forehead, realizing that you've been fuckin' robbed. You've never been put through tables or felt explosives go off around you. You've never even fought in a hardcore match...your life has been nothing but a haze controlled by an evil genius who directs you in whatever way he wants to. You've never even done anything on your own. Mr. Belvedere has been everywhere you've been, and it shows how pathetic you are. It shows how LITTLE you deserve the world title. Maybe, Harper was right in keeping you out of the race. After all, that title represents distinction, honor, and pride...three things that men like you and JD Lawson know NOTHING about. You disgrace the very meaning of the word champion, and make a mockery of everything it means to be a glorious holder of the world title. You, Glore, are a disgrace, and you always will be. No longer will I let your run around this place with Belvedere at the helm. You treat everything as a joke, and I won't allow someone like you to get something that belongs to me. No, Glore, Saturday, you're going to learn why you should never have asked for that shot at Resurrection. Glore, on Saturday, I'm taking back what's rightfully mine...staring into your eyes...the number one contendership.

...Suddenly, Justin's stare is interrupted by a loud ringing noise inside the house. Standing up, with a sigh, he walks into a room, and looks around, seeing the phone on the wall. He shakes his head and then walks towards it, picking it up slowly....

Justin: Jesus christ...I can't even get away for one day...hello?

Andrew: Yo! Justin! It's...

Justin: Let me guess...Andrew?

Andrew: YEAH! How'd you know?

Justin: Call it a lucky guess.

Andrew: Alright man, well, guess what?

Justin: Oh no, I'm not starting this again.

Andrew: No, seriously man, guess.

Justin: What am I supposed to be guessing?

Andrew: I don't know....think of something.

Justin: Jim Harper finally realized the truth and decided to give me my rematch?....Andrew...is that...LAUGHTER...I HEAR?!

Andrew: ...laughing... Uhhh, no Justin, of course not...

Justin: YOU'RE LAUGHING AT MY GUESS!

Andrew: NO! I'M NO...HAHAHAHAHA...NOT!

Justin: That's it...I'm hanging up...

Andrew: Aww...I'm sorry...I won't laugh....just guess again...

Justin: You laughed at my last guess.

Andrew: So? I won't this time...I promise...

Justin: Alright...fine...you're being chased by the head of an evil organization?

Andrew: I am?

Justin: ...sigh... No, Andrew, I just guessed that...

Andrew: Well, bad guess...no more guesses for you...

Justin: Well then, I guess I'm going to hang up the phone...

Andrew: Wait...

Justin: What...and what's all that yelling in the background? Is someone yelling your name?

Andrew: I dunno...Just be ready...click...

Justin: Andrew? Hello? Hello? Are you there?...What in the...

...Dialtone is heard as Justin stands there, confused...The camera fades.......

...HERO...ICON...FRANCHISE...YOUR F'N ROLEMODEL...

«««FADE 2 BLACK«««

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