[???]Resurrection can means many things in the course of life. One can resurrect a career in the sports arena. One can resurrect a life, hypothetically speaking. And in Jesus' time, one could resurrect a life, literally. We, as human beings, however, do not posses that type of power. We do not have the strength to simply say, rise and have the person arise and live again. Once the brain fails, we die. Once the heart fails to pump blood through our arteries, we cannot sustain ourselves. We do not have the physical or mental discipline to revive a human body, nor do we have the technology. Maybe, in a few years, we will be able to revive other from our race or even others from another race. Maybe, in the year 2347 the human race will have advanced so far that we will be able to cure AIDS and Cancer with a simple pill. Maybe, just maybe, we will be able to bring people back to life after they are dead. But never, ever, can we bring back a person's sense of reality, for once they have lost it, it is too late.[???]
[???]What is it about the name that brings such hatred? What is it about the name that makes so many despise it and scorn it? Is it too simple for you? Must all names have some hidden meaning? Can't names simple be names? Why can't we live in a world where a name can be original even though it sounds like another? Each person makes a name special. They add their own aura to it, their own special mark on it. So you see, every name is different, despite what you say...The camera fades in to show a light gray. It seems cold, solemn, and almost metallic. You wonder what this could mean as you search for you bearings. You ask yourself why it is that every time you journey here, you are dizzy and disoriented, but you recieve no answer, just silence, and so you continue to steady yourself.[???]
[???]Finally you begin to clear your eyes and your senses. Your sense of smell has returned and you can smell a certain foul odor in the air. It is a musty smell, almost rustic, as if something has laid in one place, untouched for years. Your sense of touch returns and you can feel in front of you. The substance is cold and yet smooth. It is sprinkles with drops of moisture. As your feel around, your sight returns quickly. You stand in front of a sink, emptied. The water quietly drips from the faucet and you back up. The sink lays alone, as there is no counter, or cabinets, or stove. It is a simple room. Nothing but a sink and rusted tiles below you. But suddenly, you hear a noise and your head jerks to the right. Your are now alert, as you know that he is with you. As you turn around, effervescent to your surroundings, you see an opening in the wall, a doorway. You walk towards it with your heels clanking against the rusted floor tiles with every step.[???]
[???]You on the threshold and stretch your arms across the doorway, stretching, and at the same times feeling for your surroundings. The wall is different from the sink, it is warm, as if a strange sense of energy runs through it as you stand. You continue forwards, pulling your hands into your deep pockets and look ahead of you. He sits in front of you, in a simple metallic, rusted, lawn chair. His glare is serious and irritated. He seems happy, yet furious at the same time. You are confused. He sits back in the chair and shows you that he, once again, wears a black Levis T-shirt, white Dockers no-wrinkle khakis and his black Lugz boots. His hands are indulged in his pockets and his face in your confronting stare. He looks down at the ground and kicks a small piece of the ceiling that has fallen towards you. It arrives at your feet and you bend down to examine it. He surprises you.[???]
Justin: It's quite simple, in this game, you win or you lose. You survive or you find yourself on the unemployment line. You either beat ass or get your ass beaten. I choose none of them. I do things my way. Whether you like it or not, you have to deal with it. Whether you that I am another phony who steals names is your opinion, but I've made this name famous. I've turned Justin Sane into a household. I don't care what Jimmy Luciano says, what Rockness Monsta says, what MISSLE says, or what some six year old in the last row says, this is my life, I'll live it. If you don't like it, then don't watch. But don't blame me when you find yourself spouting the name Sane off like a fountain spouts water.
[???]His left hand emerges from his pocket and he strokes his rough goatee.[???]
Justin: What are you? An idiot? A fool? Deaf? Do you even KNOW what I said to you? Do you even realize what I spoke to you on? Do you realize that I tried to help you? You work here and there, but you haven't done shit here. You haven't proven anything to anyone, and that's what's funny. What's funny is the fact that despite what I tell you and how many times I tell you, "I'm wrong." You're always right. If something deflammatory is spoken towards you, it's automatically wrong. If words did not come from your mouth, they are words of hate and distrust. You cannot accept the simple fact that someone may be better than you. Whether you accept it now or not is not the point, because after tomorrow, you will.
[???]His face becomes enraged and he is obviously infuriated.[???]
Justin: It's obvious to me and to many others that I am original. I am my own man, but you cannot seem to believe that. It seems almost impossible for you to accept the factual evidence that I provide you. You must sink down to the levels of the 4 year olds with your "You're gay!" You have to sink down the reading and writing level of a kindergartner to get your point across because your feeble mind can't understand a word with more than two syllables. You could my mind with purely asinine phrases and senseless words mumbled and jumbled into sentences, because you STILL refuse to face the fact that maybe your "greatness" isn't as acclaimed as you once thought. Maybe, just maybe, the words of your "fame" and "nobility" in the wrestling world hasn't reaches FWF words, but I'm not worried, because after Saturday, you'll be behind me and I'll care as much about you as the stain on the ramp.
[???]He moves his left hand through his hair, running it over almost every short strand of black hair.[???]
Justin: Now there lies more at the heart of the problem than just you. There remains my partner, whose "epic" search for me ended this afternoon with the shocking reality that I don't need him, nor do I want him. This match is a joke, whether he realizes it or not, and whether he wants to recognize the fact that I am the ONLY man in MY corner is his decision. I don't have other people make my decisions, so I won't make yours, but the smart thing would be to stay away from me. Stay out of my face and don't mess me up. This is my match and I see no reason to even consider you. How you ended up at my side is a question I asked myself ONCE, but then it simply passed as just another match. So I give you this warning, stay the fuck away.
[???]He looks at you, almost in a caring way, and then stands up, never moving from his position in front of the chair.[???]
Justin: And still, we remain with unfinished business. Jason Starr, the "golden boy" of the FWF. The one who has been self-proclaimed as the savior of FWF. Foolish boy, you are concerned with what? Ratings? Women? Laughter? I used to be like you. I used to be the one on the beach cracking on people and making them feel petty, but I realized, that gets you no where. You have a chance Jason, small, but its there. You have the chance to be SOMEONE, SOMETHING! You have the chance to go SOMEWHERE! But STILL you remain with the pretty women and the constant jovial attitude, but this isn't a joke Jason. This is serious. This isn't just something that you can pass off. Maybe you can joke about the other 4 in the match, but Jason, I'm asking you not to pass me off as just another. Don't write me off Jason. I see good things for you Jason, but only if you learn...only if you learn.
[???]He begins to move, his boot clicking with the faulty floorboards. He stands right in front of you and looks deep into your eyes as he speaks.[???]
Justin: A new attitude doesn't always mean success, Trent. A new outlook on life doesn't exactly guarantee that you will forge winning ways. What happened to the Trent that I knew in WWC? What happened to the Trent that I once could respect? What happened? You used to be like me Trent, but you've changed. Perhaps it is for the best, but I can't see how. You've got new views and a new style, but I don't see something that I once did. I don't see that fire Trent. I don't see that serious and hateful demeanor that you once exhibited with pride. Now you hide it. If only you would show it Trent. If only you would walk with that cocky and prideful manner that was so evident in WWC. Maybe you are a new person Trent, and maybe it is for the better, but right now, I don't see anything improving.
[???]He stares directly at you for a moment and then steps to the side. He puts his hands back into his pockets and walks past you as the camera fades....[???]
You didn't have to listen. You didn't have to be that guy. You could've been the man standing next to me, not across me. But instead, you listened to him. You did his bidding. You proved me right. Your proved that I was right all along. You showed me that he can't do ANYTHING on his own. You showed me that needs someone to do EVERYTHING for him. God forbid that he should stand up for himself. But no, you have to do it for him. You have to fight his fight. You have to do his dirty work. Well, I will show you that you made the wrong choice. I will show you that you never should have thrown me through the window. You should've just walked away from him.
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