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The scene opens up onto a very familiar field. GWO viewers last saw this field view in a promo made by GWO�s Commonwealth Champion, The Jackrabbit, on Halloween. But this time the scene is not as dark as the last time, and the green grass can be seen glistening under the morning sun. The burnt away grass can still be seen, clearer this time, as just blackened patches on mud amongst a sea of green blades of grass. But as before, the field is long and silent. The camera moves up the hill, as it did on Halloween, although this time it is unescorted. The view arrives at the small, wooden shack that is barely the size of an average shed. There is no bolt on the door, but it is probably locked from the inside. The camera stops it�s moving, as there is a noise heard from inside the hut. The wooden door begins to shake on its loose hinges, and then it swings open. The camera is steady, as a figure appears in the open doorway. He is wearing a long, black cloak, which goes lower than its feet. The cloak is open, and the camera can just see a pair of blue, denim jeans and a black T-shirt beneath it. On this T-shirt there is emblazoned the image of a grey-furred, long-eared, buck-toothed, red-eyed rabbit laughing crazily. The figure is also wearing dark, well-tinted sunshades to hide his eyes, perhaps from the Sun, perhaps from the camera, and he also dons a black winter hat, (better known for its use my dozens of rappers worldwide) and it is because of this hat that the figure�s hair cannot be seen. On the hat there is an image that resembles the two letters J and R merged together to form one single logo. But more unusually than all of this is the deciding factor to this figure�s identity. Around his waist, for it is certainly a male, is a belt. Not just an ordinary leather belt to keep up his jeans, this belt is made of thick grey leather, with a large golden plate in the centre. This belt is recognisable as none other than the Commonwealth Title belt of the Golden Wrestling Organisation. Which leaves one thing unsaid but known by all. The figure in the doorway of his very own shack is the Commonwealth (or Wealthy Commoner in his mind) Champion, The Jackrabbit!
The Jackrabbit wraps his cloak around him, instantly hiding his belt, his jeans and his T-shirt from view. He then gets out an old-fashioned smoking pipe, props it up into his mouth, and begins to smoke. But smoking is bad for your health kids, which is why there is no smoke coming from The Jackrabbit�s pipe, instead there are bubbles. Wonderful, glistening bubbles, that reflects the sunlight into all the colours of the spectrum, before popping and showering the floor, and in most cases The Jackrabbit, with soapy water. The Jackrabbit does not smoke, tobacco or no tobacco, and he does not �smoke� bubbles either, but he likes to fit in, and with his hat, cloak and pipe, he feels the part. He walks meaningfully past the camera, and for the first time we can see, on his back, and red, blue and green rucksack, filled to the top with �supplies� for what seems to be a long journey. Out of the top of the bag pokes an old, brown teddy bear, missing an eye. The camera moves to catch up with The Jackrabbit, and he now notices it following him for the first time. He removes his bubble pipe from his mouth and begins to talk in his usual high-pitched and excited tone of voice.
THE JACKRABBIT: �Oh, Hey-a �Rabbit Fans. I didn�t see ya� there. I guess this means you caught me at it. I�m leaving home for a while. Well, in a few days I gotta catch another damn aeroplane back to England. This GWO thing is really keepin� me on my tippy-toes. I ain�t staying in England any longer than I gotta, �cos it�s boring and they say words funny. Which makes it hard to buy things. I went into a store in Birming-summat a couple of weeks ago, and asked for a pair of pants. The dumb women came back with this little pair of things that might fit a little baby, but pants are supposed to keep ya� warm and these things didn�t hardly cover my� you know. So I ain�t going to England �till I really gotta. I can understand why Trayboy�s little kids want their daddy to die so they can go home. England is hobbirul.
Well, anywho, my rightful place is here in my little home in the States. But not now� now I is on a journey. That�s right �Rabbit Fans, The Jackrabbit is on a mission. I�ll tell you all about my mission� [The Jackrabbit takes a puff/blow from his bubble pipe.] I am GWO�s Wealthy Commoner Champion, right? Right. Well, that means I am better� at wrestling� than a lot of the guys in GWO� except Zimmy-majig of course, �cos World Champs are the best, apparently. Well, anywho, not only does this title mean that I am the bestestest; it also means that I represent the Wealthy Commoner. You see, the World Champion represents the world, the Hardcore Champion represents all that is hardcore, the Lightweight Champion represents the lightweights, the tag team champions represent all the tag teams, and the Wealthy Commoner Champion represents all the Wealthy Commoners. Now, with that being said, by me, The Jackrabbit, I will inform you that a few days ago I had a dream. It wasn�t about little black boys and little black girls holding hands with little white boys and little white girls, �cos that is Kirk James� dream, and it�s not fair to steal dreams. Oh no, my dream was about The Wealthy Commoner saving me from falling out of one of them blasted aeroplanes. Aeroplanes are hobbirul! I know that I wasn�t making that stuff up. I knows that The Wealthy Commoner saved The Jackrabbit� that�s me� from falling to a grim death. And I know that if he had the chance he would�ve saved me from Talon. It wasn�t his fault. The Wealthy Commoner was a great person. He had magical Commoner-Powers that could do anything he wanted. He gave me lots of belts. And everyone knows belts are cool. Well, Wealthy Commoner belts are. I know that The Wealthy Commoner is the coolest person. He is the only person that ever cared about The Jackrabbit� well, not exactly. But I know that The Wealthy Commoner would never push me off a building. And besides, I need The Commoner-Powers off him to help me beat Draco at Murder. They worked against Silvio Syn at Tree Son. Without the Commoner-Powers, who knows where I�d be?�
The Jackrabbit has left the field, and he continues to walk down a patch, blowing bubbles as he walks. He continues down the same path, as the occasional car drives past. He is in a neighbourhood, just your average street. He seems to walk for ages, when it has really only been ten or fifteen minutes. He eventually meets the first person on his journey. A young girl aged only six or seven years old. The kid is about to walk past the shady-looking superstar, when The Jackrabbit grabs him by the shoulder and spins the now terrified looking kid around to face him. The kid looks like she is about to cry, when The Jackrabbit slaps his hand across her mouth to prevent it. He then puts on his best gangster movie act.
THE JACKRABBIT: �Listen to me, and listen hard! If you know what�s good for you, you will tell me everything I want to know!�
The kid tears away from The Jackrabbit�s grip with a burst of energy, and charges down the road screaming frantically for her mother. The Jackrabbit shrugs, unsure of what he did wrong, but nonetheless he realises that it is probably a good time to hightail it out of there. The Jackrabbit begins to walk at a pace that is more similar to jogging than walking.
THE JACKRABBIT: �You see� I have to be alert. All good superheroes have secret identities. Superman, Wonderwoman, Bill Clinton� so for that, I am sure that The Wealthy Commoner must have a secret identity too. So he could be anybody. Anybody it all. I have been alert that anybody that comes near me could be The Wealthy Commoner, and I must not allow The Wealthy Commoner to escape from me.�
The Jackrabbit accidentally treads on something as he hurries on. He looks down and sees a man sat on the floor on top of a blanket. The man is wearing a torn up, brown shirt that looks like it might not have been cleaned for weeks if not longer. His jeans are grey, torn and tattered with the back pocket hanging off. The man�s hair is long and his stubble is growing thicker on his mouth. He hasn�t shaved in days. His face is also cut, indicating that when he did shave, it was using a bare blade. The man looks up at The Jackrabbit with puppy-dog eyes. But The Jackrabbit has no time to waste with the homeless man.
THE JACKRABBIT: �Oi! Stop lookin� at me like that! You never seen a Wealthy Commoner Champion before?�
POOR MAN: �Please Sir, can you spare some money for a poor beggar like myself?�
THE JACKRABBIT: �I�ll cut you a deal. I�ll give you whatever you want, if you answer my questions.�
POOR MAN: �I�ll answer anything Ican for whatever money you might spare me.�
THE JACKRABBIT: �No, spare me! Now tell me, are you The Wealthy Commoner?�
POOR MAN: �Well, Sir, I am certainly not wealthy, God knows I am not wealthy. But I suppose you could call me a commoner� though I reckon I am less common than most people.�
THE JACKRABBIT: �But you are not The Wealthy Commoner?�
POOR MAN: �Well, Sir, I do not really get what you mean, but I suppose I definitely ain�t.�
THE JACKRABBIT: �And you do not know where I can find him?�
POOR MAN: �A wealthy commoner? Well, no, I think a common person with wealth would be a rare thing. Someone I would definitely like to meet.�
THE JACKRABBIT: �Yeah, me too. Well, you ain�t much help� here.�
The Jackrabbit tosses several gold coins to the poor beggar. The man�s face lights up and he thanks The Jackrabbit gratefully. The Jackrabbit walks on in continuation of his journey to find The Wealthy Commoner, as the man tests the coins. He then notices that the shiny surface is peelable. He pulls off the gold surface of the coin to discover that they are all made of chocolate. Rich milk chocolate. But this does not bother the man, and he praises God for granting him the delicious chocolate morsels.
The Jackrabbit has been walking for over an hour, and he has questioned the few people he has met on his journey. Most of these people have ignored his questionings, or just dismissed him with no relevant answers. In fact, he is currently nursing the bruise an old woman with a very heavy handbag gave him when he tried to pursue matters further with her. He was so sure she knew something, though.
The Jackrabbit has inadvertently wondered into a richer area of the district. The houses around him are tall, and most of them are three, if not four, stories high. They are well painted, have long, lush green front and back lawns, and have long and gravel-filled driveways, each with a very expensive car or two parked on them, with front porches protruding from the front of each house. The streets are very clean and there is little noise from the entire area. The site is quite incredible to The Jackrabbit, who has not been in a place like this� or at least, not that he can remember. The site does not appeal to The Unorthodox One�s taste. He has never been a fan of neither big places, high places, nor even well groomed places, as his shack his evidence of.
The Jackrabbit hangs around this upper class block for a short while, until he finally meets a man. This man is wearing a black blazer over a neatly pressed white shirt. He is also wearing a shiny silver tie and a pair of black work pants/trousers, and polished black shoes. In his hand is a briefcase, and the man is obviously on his way to wherever he may work. The Jackrabbit jumps in front of the man before he gets the chance to pass him by, and the man does not look best pleased.
RICH MAN: �Excuse me, Sir, you are blocking my path.�
THE JACKRABBIT: �I know. I�ll unblock it when you answer my every question.�
RICH MAN: �Sir, I really do not have time for a survey, I have a very important meeting to attend.�
THE JACKRABBIT: �This ain�t no survey, sugar puff. Answer me now, are you The Wealthy Commoner?!�
RICH MAN: �Sir, I�m warning you. Please excuse me or I will be forced to use my cellphone to alert the police.�
THE JACKRABBIT: �Are you The Wealthy Commoner?�
RICH MAN: �Sir, if it pleases you; I am, I suppose you could say, quite wealthy. But I am in no means what you would call a �commoner.� I am a very hard-working agent for a very commercialised firm, and I am good at what I do. For that reason, I am wealthy, but I am no commoner from the streets. I have a very��
THE JACKRABBIT: [interrupting] �So you are not The Wealthy Commoner? Do you know where I could find him?�
RICH MAN: �Really, Sir, I do not understand quite what you are referring to, but I am afraid I am unable to help you. Now if you�ll excuse me, I really must attend my meeting.�
The Jackrabbit allows the rich man to step around him. He stares on into space for a while. He knows he has learnt two things. To be a commoner, you must not have a lot of money or an important job. To be wealthy, you must have an important job to earn you lots of money.
THE JACKRABBIT: �So� I need to find somebody who has a job that earns lots of money, but is also very, very poor��
The Jackrabbit seems to think he has solved a mystery� of course, a slightly more wise person would realise that he hasn�t at all. But nonetheless, he seems happy enough with his conclusion. The Commonwealth Champion continues his walk down the street, thinking aloud to himself.
THE JACKRABBIT: �This journey isn�t gonna be no run in the park� mainly �cos I ain�t nowhere near a park, and I have a heavy bag on my back, which stops me being able to run fast. But no matter, I will keep searching until I find The Wealthy Commoner� it is my duty, I represent him. I should at least show The Wealthy Commoner that I deserve to be The Wealthy Commoner Champion of GWO. And even with that aside, I need the Commoner-Powers to defeat Draco� well; I�m sure I can beat him if I try really hard and give him a Standing Joke or a Last Laugh. I got into The Gauntlet finals without powers, and I even beat Draco there and then without powers. But I wanna be absolutely 900-percent sure that I will beat Draco at Murder� I beat him twice; it�d be a shame to lose to him now.
Look at it this way for just one minute, Dracey. Last week at the Paper Pay-Per-View, Tree Son, I defeated Silvio Syn to defend my Wealthy Commoner title. I proved that I am the undisputed Wealthy Commoner Champion of GWO. But not only that, I proved that I can single-handedly defeat the Gauntlet winner and the GWO World title number one contenderman. Doesn�t that prove summat? Well, does it? I ain�t sure what, but it probably proves summat. I do know, though, that if I go out at Murder and beat Draco, the guy that got into the Triple Cage match with Zimmy-majig at Tree Son, I will prove to the world that anything Zimmy does The Jackrabbit can do better. I will prove I can beat the number one contenderman, the former contender, and that I can be the reigning and undefeated Wealthy Commoner champion. Hey Draco, remember I�m you�re a Womble? No, darn it I didn�t mean that! I meant to say, remember back in the days of TAW? Total Anarchy Wrestling� you was there too. Unless there are two �Draco the Hellacious One�s. But if it was you, maybe you�ll remember who the only TAW Canadian Heavyweight Champion was. That�s right, my first match in TAW was also Draco�s first match in TAW, and was also the first-ever Canadian Heavyweight Title match in TAW ever. I walked out of that match, one Last Laugh later, with that belt. And did I ever lose that belt, Draco? Do you remember (resist saying Womble, resist saying Womble)? I didn�t, Draco. I defended that belt every single week, and I didn�t lose it. And TAW closed down because nobody watched it, but I still had the belt. They didn�t watch TAW because The Jackrabbit was the only thing worth watching. And because nobody else was pulling out all the stops� (what�s with that, actually? Why do they want people to pull out stops? Is that like when Luke Kinder hit Trayboy with a �Stop� sign that one time?) And besides, nobody watched TAW because they were all watching GWO instead. It makes sense. But I won�t talk about TAW anymore, �cos this is GWO now. Only that reality hasn�t hit Draco yet. He still thinks we�re at nursery school where we can climb on things and jump off them and all the other kiddies cheer and laugh. This isn�t nursery school�. I don�t think� well, if it is, then I�m the one who isn�t in reality. But in my world, this is GWO. This is The Jackrabbit�s domain, this is my hutch. And in GWO, just like in TAW, I am holding the title� and in GWO, just like in TAW, I ain�t gonna lose this title unless GWO closes, but GWO won�t close, because it isn�t TAW, and the �Rabbit Fans need to see The Jackrabbit, and if GWO closes, they can�t so it won�t. I�m sorry, Draco, it seems that I got myself carried away� not literally, cos that would be stupid� cutting a big promo whilst being carried� so really, I think there�s only one thing to do. Say the same thing I always say, since The �Rabbit Fans like it so much� and it can be something for young Dracey to remember going into Murder, too�
The Jackrabbit always gets The Last Laugh!�
The Jackrabbit can�t resist it� all this time without doing so, and so he tips back his head and allows a long and hysterical laugh to escape his throat. He reaches to his back, and takes a bag of �Milkybar Buttons� from his rucksack, which he opens and begins to swallow as he walks on, in continuation of The Search for The Wealthy Commoner�
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