Spliff and The Guy Whose Name Nobody Knows are standing on top of a steep hill. Traffic zooms back and forth at the cross street below them. They are tightening wheels to what appears to be a poorly constructed soap box racer. Jackson Kelly emerges from the house behind them wearing a Saints football helmet and two pillows strategically tied to either side of his torso. Jackson climbs into the soapbox racer with a bit of hesitation.

3lla: "Why are we doing this again?"

Spliff: "Because, man, straight up, we all know you can scrap kid, but you and The Man have been messin' with the Hardcore Playas, those guys are some truely hardcore wrestlers. That's why you lost the North American Title, there�s more to hardcore then just being able to take a normal hit. You seen those crazy @$$ bumps wrestlers are taking now a days? You have to be prepared to fall hard and still be able to get back up and fight."

3lla: "And this is going to prepare me for that?"

Spliff: "No doubt, kid. Trust me.

3lla: "Wait a minute, what the hell are you planning, Spliff?"

Spliff: "Don�t sweat it, Jackson, it ain�t no thing, we just gonna roll you down the hill that�s all."

3lla: "Down the hill? Into oncoming traffic? You�re nuts!"

Spliff: "Naw, man, we�re going to wait for the light to change first."

3lla: "No chance, I�m going back insid...."

Jackson starts to get out of the soapbox racer but the light changes and Spliff and The Guy shove the car, sending it flying down the hill with Jackson hanging half way out of it.

Spliff: "Just hold on, Jackson, you can do it!!!"

Jackson glides toward the intersection faster and faster when the light changes. Jackson hits the breaks, but the wheel that Spliff and The Guy were working on a second ago comes off the box. Screaming obscenities, Jackson barrels into the traffic, running smack into the front end of one car. The soapbox racer smashes into bits and Jackson goes airborne over the hood of the car. Spliff and The Guy run down the hill after Jackson. Helping him up off the street, Spliff checks on his friend, almost in a state of panic.

Spliff: "Jackson, you alright, are you okay man? The light changed, man.."

Jackson shakes his head and then turns to Spliff.

3lla: "Well, Spliff, it looks like your test worked."

Spliff: "Yeah, you�re still walking."

3lla: "Yep, and I�m about to show you that I can still beat some @$$ too."

Spliff: "Huh?"

The scene ends as Jackson chases the smaller man back up the hill and into the house.

Fade Out.
Fade In.

Later on, our protagonistic-trio sit inside Jackson's Cadallac Escalade; Spliff is driving while holding an ice pack ontop of his head.. Wait, does Spliff even have a license? Hmm.. Well, at any rate, Spliff is driving down the road with Jackson in the passenger seat and The Guy in the back playing an advance copy of Grand Theft Auto: Vice City on the Playstation 2 (due out in October).

3lla: "Now where are we going?"

Spliff: "Don't worry about it, just trust me."

3lla: "Trust you?!?! You just shoved me down a steep hill into oncoming traffic!"

Spliff: "Yeah, but you learned a valuable lesson about hardcore wrestling, didn't you?"

3lla: "I learned that you don't know anything about wrestling, let alone hardcore."

Spliff: "Fair enough, I'm willing to admit my limitations. That's why were going to get some outside help."

3lla: "Outside help? Why doesn't that give me a warm fuzzy feeling deep inside, Spliff?"

Spliff: "Alright, fine, we're going to see one of the ultimate extreme wrestling greats.."

3lla: "Who?"

Spliff: "He was a former multiple time TWO and SWF Hardcore Champion.."

3lla: "Who is it, Spliff?"

Spliff: "He was your trainer, Kyle Barrows' best friend.."

3lla: "You don't mean.."

Spliff: "'Crazy' Johnny Markham."

3lla: "You can't be serious. Barrows told me about this guy before, crazy isn't just a nickname. This guy used to carry around a dead cat with a brick stuffed in its body cavity. He's not hardcore by choice, he just doesn't know any better. This doesn't seem like a good idea to me, besides, we aren't even fighting the Hardcore Playas on FireFights."

Spliff: "I know, you're fighting Cage Sullivan and Ritchie Lane again. But you guys are already training for that match, we're just going to throw in a little hardcore training on top so that when you do get your hands on Hardcore Jay again you'll be ready to deal with him on more of his own terms."

This is insane, I could be killed!"

Spliff: "No, man, this is going to be great. Trust me."

3lla: "Please don't say that anymore, its beginning to unnerve me."

Fade out.
Fade In.

Its dark. Not like night time dark, but like the room that Jackson and the others have just entered has no windows and the only light comes from the door behind them. Every wall is padded with thick foam rubber. Near the center of the room a thick steel chain is bolted to the floor with a chewed through leather dog collar hooked to the other end. Jackson picks up the collar and gives it a concerned look as a sickening laugh echos through the dark room.

3lla: "This can't be good, we should go.. like now, yeah?"

Spliff: "Naw, it's all good, I talked to Barrows before hand, he told me to just talk to Johnny like anyone else. HELLO? Mr. Markham are you here?"

Voice in the dark: "Heheheheeeheheeheheh."

Spliff: "Um.. Yeah, we're uh.. friends of Kyle Barrows he sent us to talk to you."

Voice: "K-k-k-kylee-poo? Heheheheheheeeheh."

Spliff: "Yeah, you know 'The Big Time', you guys used to be tag team partners."

3lla: "I'm tellin you we should bounce, Spliff."

Spliff: "Will you relax, please? I can't believe you are a professional wrestler with the way you're acting right now. Mr. Markham, we were hoping you could give my friend here some tips on extreme wrestling."

CJM: "S-s-s-sure."

Spliff: "Huh? Did you say sure?"

CJM: "Absotutely. See h-h-h-h-eggstreme wrestling isn't just about smacking your p-p-p-p-p-poodle with what ever tuna you find laying around. You have to f-f-f-f-follow your sparkley pants up with a h-h-h-h-h-highlighter of a different f-f-f-f-f-f-flavor. And of course don't be a-a-a-a-a-ascared to hit that lumberjack in the n-n-n-n-noodle... hehehehehehehheheeehehehe."

Spliff: "Yeah, um.. there you go Jackson, advice from the best."

3lla: "Now you know as well as I do that neither one of us could possibly hope to make any sense out of that."

CJM: "H-h-h-here lemme give you an eggsample."

3lla: "Huh?"

Before Jackson has anytime to react, Crazy Johnny gives him a swift kick directly in the gonads. CJM follows the low blow up by wrapping the chain around his neck and choking him with it before delivering the Eggplant Surprize to da 3lla (an inverted powerbomb.. ouch). Johnny jumps onto Jackson and begins gnawing on his forehead.

3lla: "Get him off me!!!!"

Spliff springs into action, kicking CJM squarly in the gentitals.

CJM: "Now you're getting the h-h-h-h-hang of it."

Johnny's eyes cross in his head and he falls over holding his crotch. Jackson and the others run from the room and out the building. Piling into Jackson's Escalade they peel rubber off the tires as they pull away from the large arcaic looking building. The tires squeel as they go through the large iron gate and quickly down the road. The sign over the gate reads "Bellvue Mental Institute".

Fade out.

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