Maps. Used more commonly in ancient times, in the times of pirates and treasure-hunters. A map could cause conflicts; just a simple leaf of paper could start a war. But it is not the map that is important to the holder, but what the map offers. A route to something great. Something, perhaps, that men have seeked for many years. An example would be buried treasure. But does this not mean that the map itself is a treasure, if it something that is so important, so meaningful, to its holder? This scene is not opening today. Instead, it will be taken back to some days ago, where it last left off. The last scene that a promo of this type showed was that of a hotel. A hotel that The Jackrabbit, Commonwealth Champion of the Golden Wrestling Organisation, had found in his frantic attempts to find shelter from a terrible storm. He had finally found this hotel in his search� a place to stop on his Search for The Wealthy Commoner; his first real resting place on this journey. The scene now re-opens, some days ago, in the hotel room of The Jackrabbit. The curtains are drawn, to hide the terrible storm from this small room, being lit by a single lamp on a bedside table. There is a single bed, covered over by a tight, crisp white sheet. The carpet is a pale red, to match the curtains, and the walls are painted magnolia. There is a small desk in one corner of the room, with a little wooden chair beneath it. On the table are complimentary mints and brochures of places to visit in the area. The only thing that seems out of place is the figure sat on the end of the bed. The figure is wearing a pair of blue, denim jeans and big black boots. It is also wearing a black T-shirt, on which there is emblazoned the image of a grey-furred, long-eared, buck-toothed, red-eyed rabbit laughing crazily. The figure has three silver chains around his neck (you can determine his gender by his well-built body.) and he is wearing a pair of sunshades over his eyes, which is unusual in an environment with as little light as this one. The figure also has long, blonde hair, recently dried and tied back in a ponytail. Over his shoulder there is a belt. Not your average belt, but a large leather-strapped belt with shining gold plates on the strap. The central plate is very large, the size of a child�s head. On it there is the following text: �GWO Commonwealth Champion.� If nothing else, this is evidence that can reveal the identity of the figure. He is, clearly, the self-proclaimed Unorthodox One, the Golden Wrestling Organisation Commonwealth Champion himself, The Jackrabbit! (Bet you didn�t see that one coming, did you?) The Jackrabbit is not himself. He is not laughing, he is not smiling, he is not even grinning. He is stone-faced, looking very miserable. Well, perhaps not miserable� in fact, The Jackrabbit looks� bored! He is sat on the end of this hotel bed, literally twiddling his thumbs. He looks shiftily around the room, but of course, there is nothing to do. In a desperate attempt to find something to occupy his short attention span, The Jackrabbit goes over to the table in the corner of the hotel room. He picks up the complementary mints from the table, and munches them half-heartedly, making sure to get his tongue all over each one before swallowing it. But the mints do not last long, and instead leave him with a desire for more (as is typical of any type of complementary food.) The Jackrabbit takes just a moment to look through the brochures, but either the words are too complex or the pictures are too boring, and he tosses them back down. He then looks around for something else to �play with� and his eyes cannot help falling on his Commonwealth Title belt. Something is wrong� he looks at the designs. He looks at the leather. He looks at the text. And there it is. Somebody has spelt �Wealthy Commoner� wrong! He drops the belt onto the table in shock, and hurriedly scoops up his red, blue and green rucksack from the floor. He searches through the bag. THE JACKRABBIT: �That�s not a pen!� He tosses a brown teddy bear aside. �That�s not a pen!� A pair of blue, tartan long-shorts is tossed away. �That�s not a pen!� A miniature badminton racket and shuttle cock flies across the room. Finally The Jackrabbit finds what he is looking for, and he takes out a small blue felt-tip pen. He goes over to the table where his Commonwealth Title lies. He takes the lid off the felt-tip meaningfully, and then puts pen nib to gold. He begins to scrawl on the Commonwealth Title belt! He puts a big blue cross over the word �Commonwealth� and then writes just underneath it on the bare gold: �WELFEE COMMONA.� Satisfied that the title belt now has �correct spelling,� The Jackrabbit plonks himself back on the end of the bed, back into his stage of boredom. He looks around the room again, twiddling his thumbs. And then he notices the small bedside table. There is a single drawer on the table. The curiosity, mixed with boredom, pushes The Jackrabbit towards the drawer. He finds himself sat, bolt upright, beside it. Slowly he moves his hand towards the drawer, and grasping the small steel knob in his fist, he pulls the drawer open. Except one thing. The drawer is locked. The Jackrabbit hadn�t noticed that lock on the knob� well, actually, he still hasn�t! The Jackrabbit begins to pull and tug at the drawer, thinking that it must be broken. When all of a sudden, the entire drawer is torn from the bedside table. The Jackrabbit falls backwards from the momentum, and then he slowly gets to his feet with the drawer in his hand. And then� THE JACKRABBIT: �Uh-oh! I broked it! Oh God, I broked it! Err� Err�. Err�. hey, what�s this?� The Jackrabbit notices something rolled up in the drawer. It is a small piece of paper. He takes the paper out of the drawer and unrolls it. The �piece of paper� is actually a map. There are buildings, and hills, and a cliff, and several other things. Everything is marked carefully on it. Parking lots, restaurants, leisure centres. And then he notices it. A small blue and white box on the map stands out amongst everything else. The Jackrabbit�s eyes open wide� in the box there are two letters. �WC�! THE JACKRABBIT: �W.C! W.C! That means Wealthy Commoner! This map shows me where The Wealthy Commoner�s secret hideout is! Cool!� The Jackrabbit realises that there is no time to lose, and he quickly rolls the map up and shoves it uncarefully into his pocket. He kicks the broken drawer under the bed, tosses his rucksack onto his back, and quickly exits the hotel, leaving the door open and the bed sheets unfolded. The scene reopens. But this time it is real time, live television, over a week since The Jackrabbit found the map at the hotel. The figure is here again; The Jackrabbit. He is wearing a pair of blue, tartan long-shorts and the same black T-shirt he was wearing all those days ago: the T-shirt with the maniacal rabbit emblazoned on the front. The sun is shining, and the sky is a bright shade of blue. The day is almost cloudless. The heat bares down on the dry grass that The Jackrabbit walks along. The Jackrabbit is walking on purposefully, map stretched out in front of him. If there were an obstacle in his way now, he would undoubtedly hit it, since the map is so large, and is holding it right in front of his face, that he can�t see a thing in front of him. Fortunately for him, he is walking through a field and is empty. The Jackrabbit is turning the map over in his hands, trying to work out which way up it goes, and where exactly on it he is. The heat is getting at The Jackrabbit, he looks frustrated. He is sweating badly, and this forces him to remove his T-shirt and stuff it in the front pocket of his colorful rucksack. Now topless, with his silver chains dangling around his neck, The Jackrabbit moves on, staring furiously at the map. He speaks out, to the camera but with his eyes still locked on the map, in his usual high-pitched voice. THE JACKRABBIT: �Hey there, �Rabbit Fans� how bout we cut up the chase and get to the bone-crunching stuff� Monday Murder was hobbirul. Had some coo matches, and some nice interviews� and then down comes The Jackrabbit� that�s me! I get into the ring, and I give my loyal �Rabbit Fans something to talk about. I tell them what I�m thinking, and they is cool with it. And then I tell �em all about my match at the daddy of all Paper Pay-Per-View, known as Papa-View, and� and then down comes that smartly dressed nutcase and his screwball pet� No, not Draco and Tent Metal, I�m talking about Greg and Talon or Acao or both or whatever he is supposed to be. And they don�t know when to keep their noses outta my business� my match with Acao at GX is my business, not Greg�s and not Acao�s. It�s mine, mine, all mine! Young Gregory needs to learn not to stick his nose where it ain�t wanted� it should stay on his face, and that�s the only place it should be. And as for Talon plus Acao� well, he should also keep away from me. Jackrabbits can be vicious; so don�t make this bunny bite! Hahahahahahaha! Get it� bunny? Cos I�m The Jackrabbit� and a bunny is a rabbit? Never mind. Let me take you back to five years ago� the year 2000 and�. Err� the year� well, it was five years ago, okay? Talon was my friend� I trusted him with everything. Didn�t I, Tal? I�d tell you everything, give you everything� I�d do anything for you� well, not including the Troy-ish things. One night, we had a laugh� we always had laughs, me and Sau� I mean, Talon�. Acao� you know. Well, this one night, we went up to the top of the building. Dunno why� it wasn�t my idea, it was his. �Cos it was all part of an evil plot to take over the world� no, I mean, to kill me. Darn it, that�s what I meant! Why? All you �Rabbit Fans is wondering �why did he want to kill The Jackrabbit? The Jackrabbit is coo.� That�s what your thinking. You answering the question yourselfs, you see. �Cos The Jackrabbit� that�s me� is coo. And Talon with an Acao and a Greg, isn�t coo! He was Jello of me! And he still is. And that is why he had to come strolling down the ramp to bust my bubble on Murder. And to beat on me with a little stick. And to smash me through a table. And force Uncle Maggy to sign a Scaffold match between us. Well, maybe at the time that seemed pretty funny� most things do. But now� everything has changed. A �Rabbit Fan I met explained to me what a Scaffold match is. You see, I thought it was wear the two people put scarves over their eyes so they couldn�t see anyone� but it seems I got the wrong type of �fold.� That is a �blindfold match.� The Jackrabbit and Acao have got a �Scaffold match!� That means, in case you �Rabbit Fans don�t know what one is either� that The Jackrabbit and Talon with an Acao have to go up really, really high, and fight (that bit�s coo) and the dude who falls loses.� The Jackrabbit�s smile fades, his eyes widen, and his tone goes ever-so-slightly lower. �I don�t wanna fall! Please don�t let me fall! I don�t like falling! Trust me, I done it before, it�s not coo! I don�t like heights� heights aren�t coo, either! How bout we change it� err� hey, I know, I�ll go with a Street Fight� Street Fights are neat� probably. I don�t mind. If Acao wants a Street Fight, who is me to stop him? Please, Maggy, please! I don�t wanna go up there!� As if he just realises his outburst, he stops, takes a deep breath, and continues talking in his normal tone, although his smile does not return for some while. �But actually, Acao, you know what? There shouldn�t be a problem, should there? �Cos at the Papa-View, I ain�t gonna fall. Am I? �Cos at GX, it will be Talanacao that falls. Not The Jackrabbit. Not The Unorthodox One. Not the GWO Wealthy Commoner Champion� It will be Acao. The Beast. The GWO Hardcore Champion. Hardcore Champion, huh? Coo. So, you�re good at hitting people with stuff. You proved that when you hit me with your little stick. But do you represent� err� wealthy commoners worldwide? Or even better, do you represent The Wealthy Commoner himself? No, you don�t. �Cos I do� Hey, why did I even ask you if I knew the answer myself? Err�. Perhaps, you didn�t know the answer? Yes, that�s it� you didn�t know. �Cos your not clever� I am. That�s why you got some silly looking blokey with ya and I ain�t. Acao, I�m going to find The Wealthy Commoner� I got this map, and it�s gonna lead me straight to him. (When I can work out how to use it.) And then I�ll get The Commoner-Powers again, and I�ll defeat you� I beated Dylan Cell. Cell was so confident that he would be going into the Papa-View as the Wealthy Commoner Champion� he forgot that The Jackrabbit was holding it though. I don�t like losing titles, it�s not funny. So I don�t intend to. I�m a fighting champion. But GX isn�t about titles, is it Acao? No. Yeah, it�ll be Champion vs. Champion� Wealthy Commoner vs. Hardcore. But there ain�t no titles up for grabs. This is about revenge. At that other Paper Pay-Per-View, you beat me� you didn�t have your Acao then. I didn�t make you pay; make you remember what you did to me five years ago. But you will. When you fall from that scaffold, you�ll remember� and you�ll know what it felt like. 30 feet is just enough to make you realise. If you have time to realise before you hit the floor below. You ain�t that clever remember. At GX, you can bring all you wanna. You can bring your Greg, and you can bring your little sticks. But just remember Acao, sticks and stones may make my bones, but The Jackrabbit will get The Last Laugh!� The Jackrabbit bursts out into laughter� the thoughts of being thirty feet above the ground temporarily lost in his mind. But deep down he is not comfortable with this match. In fact, this is probably the worst stipulation that The Jackrabbit could ever battle in. This is a stipulation that brings back memories, that has meaning to The Jackrabbit. Memories of a fall that changed his life. A fall that broke the life-long friendship he had with man that is now Talanacao. A fall that turned a man called Jay into The Jackrabbit�