Some things have a habit of never dieing. Some things just cannot leave and will not quit, no matter how definite it may seem that all is lost, this time for good; it just never seems to be the case. If the saying �all good things come to an end� is true, why then does it seem that sometimes, if you love something so much, if something really is so �good�� you just cannot let it end, no matter how inevitable an eventual end might be? It all comes down to desire and will; if you possess these two qualities, you will prolong �the end� for as long as the wish takes you. This is the third time now that they have risen from the shadows� will it be the last? Will there ever need be another time? What path is to be laid out on this run? So many questions; �third time�s a charm�, as the old proverb goes. The scene opens to us for the very first time, not onto a clean camera shot with a defining landscape and environment recognizable immediately to the human understanding. Rather, the first camera shot from the first promo of this newcomer to Headstrong Wrestling television is� a blur. The camera shakes a little, like a drunken vagabond with a hangover trying to shake off the effects of his intoxicating night-before. The blur remains, caressing the curious mind and obstructing the view. This is no technical error, do not adjust your sets. The blur finally gives way, the camera is perhaps adjusted and the scene is� pitch black. Darkness enveloping all around it; the camera, the cameraman who is, presumably, holding it, and even the viewing audience at home, once again wondering if their television sets have become corrupted and their consequential license is now meaningless. There is a sound, the first sign of any sort of life and activity; it is a laugh� a piercing, quasi-maniacal laugh, quiet and hushed though it might be, but a laugh nonetheless. Fitting. The darkness is penetrated suddenly, a blinding light scattering around what we can now make out to be a small, dank room. A single bulb, the source of the light, hangs from a wooden ceiling, swinging to and fro, to and fro, as though it has just been knocked or slapped by an as-of-yet unseen hand. There is no lampshade on this light, just a bright bulb; a new one, we gather from the luster of its tungsten filament. The camera takes this opportunity, perhaps fearing another unexpected blackout or a revisit to the blurry-beginning, to scan the room that is its enclosure. It appears that we are in a hut of sorts, the walls and ceiling made entirely of wood, unpainted and unplastered, the nails and joints shown bare for all to see. The floor is concrete, bare also and without carpet or furnishings to appeal to the eye. Strewn about this floor are items; unusual, unorthodox items to say the least; almost, a wrestling fan might tell you, the remnants of a hardcore match-up. Amongst this, arguably, �garbage� there lies stacks of wooden 2x4s, some which appear to be parts of the hut itself� trash cans, of the soft, bendable metal variety� road signs, most reading �STOP!� and �CAUTION!� � there are also rolls upon rolls of barbed wire, most certainly not plastic-tipped, the wire itself rusted in places, a sign of its age for certain. A shopping trolley lies in one corner of this diminutive place, and inside it rests the aforementioned trash-can�s lid, albeit dented, two folded steel chairs, and a sledgehammer; missing its metal head, however. Hanging from the wooden wall by a bent nail, above the shopping trolley, there is a corkboard holding three gleaming items; trophies, almost. One is brightly colored and enamel, by the look of the texture. The other two are dazzling gold, the first of which is marred only by blue felt-tip pen over the precious surface. All three are plates, embedded on leather straps. Title belts; wrestling title belts. �HHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!� The camera jerks suddenly from its inquisitive panning of the room, to what it believes is the source of the same crazed laughter that came from the darkness that was present just moments before. It does not find the cause however, instead noting only a small wooden stool in the centre of the room; a stool with just three legs, the fourth apparently having been ripped or sawn from the seat. The light bulb flickers; unusual for a brand new bulb; and we fear we will be dropped back into the unrevealing darkness, but thankfully this is not the case. The camera turns back to the title belts it was examining moments ago, only to suddenly jerk back to the stool. There is something; someone; sat on it. This someone has long blonde hair, falling loosely down over broad shoulders and over a pair of sunshades that cover the eyes of the figure, and that really ought not be worn indoors as they are. He has three silver chains hung scruffily around his neck, and a pair of blue, plaid long-shorts. These are covered partly by a long black T-shirt, emblazoned on which is the image of a furry grey rabbit� one of its long ears folded over at the top, glowing eyes of deep blood red, and buck-teeth contained within a wide grin that appears to be the still-capture of a laugh� the rabbit on the T-shirt seems to be laughing. So too, now, does the figure sat on the three-legged stool. �AAAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHH. HAHHH. HAH! Welcome, one and all, to not your second, third, fifth, ninth, twenty-two hundredth and ninety-sixteenth, but rather your first! promoduction with yours, mine and everyone else�s favorite Friendly Neighborhood Jackrabbit,� The figure takes a deep breath, having run out of air as his sentence proceeded. �the one, the only, �cos there only is one� THE JACKRABBIT!� that�s me!� The character before us speaks in a high-pitched tone that seems entirely unfitting to a man of his 6�5�� size and roughly 260lbs stature. The expression on his face, that appears to be heavily stubbled only due to a degree of the laziness to cut it, can only be described as an enormous grin� The strange man is apparent now to the viewing HSW audience to be The Jackrabbit of the Fusion tag team, and he appears to be quite amused with either himself or the camera or� something. He catches his breath, and continues, leaning deep into the camera so it is inches from his face to accompany his fast-paced and hard-to-follow speech pattern. �I suppose you�re all sat there wondering who in the blue sky I am? Well, I was gonna tell you. Flat out like, say, �Hello �Rabbit Fans, I�m The Jackrabbit� Oops, guess I just said it. Instead, I�ve got something for y�all to be watching� without further ado, here�s one I made earlier.� The camera instantly fades out, as if on cue, and the scene appears to be entirely different now, just as we were getting accustomed to our current surroundings. The screen displays a momentary text, reading �EARLIER�� We are in a large room now, like a hall or a school gym without the gym equipment. The walls this time are painted, a magnolia white, and the floor is a deep brown in color, with paint markings on it to segment different portions of the polished surface into different sporting tracks. Climbing ropes hang from the sides of the room, the rope worn from many palms on its surface. The ceiling is high, almost out of the camera�s view entirely. We suddenly see a number of figures sat around in a circle in front of a banner hung from the ceiling. The banner is black, and sprawling in hand-written yellow text are the mysterious words, �Wrestling Anonymous.� A man stands, dressed in a smart suit and tie, coughing to clear his throat before speaking in an authoritative monotone before we can even get a grasp on what�s going on. MAN: �We�d like to thank Mr. Capone for that incredible speech, it truly is inspirational here in the W.A to see people like him going out of his way to injure himself and cutting all ties by giving up his title belts so easily, all in the attempt to cut down on his wrestling abuse. Though, once again, I have to correct you Taurus, on the use of the words �fifty�leventh� � it�s either one or the other I�m afraid, son, and on the term �no homo�, which we all agree is politically incorrect in a society such as this. But otherwise, thank you again Taurus, and we hope to hear more on your quitting methods next week where we bring in a true expert on the subject, Mr. CarMicheal. � The camera shows a black man sat amongst the others, dressed distinctly in the most stereotypical rapper clothing one could imagine, including the basketball jersey and �bling-bling� gold. The man smiles at the warm compliments and reception to his speech. The suited speaker continues: MAN: �And now I�d like to introduce to you the newest member of Wrestlers Anonymous, a man struggling with the inner turmoil of being a wrestler and having to face unsuspecting opponents night in and night out� I introduce to you now, without mentioning his weight or hometown, The Jackrabbit!� Sure enough a man stands� he is dressed in a black T-shirt and blue plaid long-shorts, with blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. He grins at the other W.A members, even going so far as to give a little cheesy wave. THE JACKRABBIT: �Hello everybody! My name is The Jackrabbit, but you can call me The Jackrabbit. I�ve been a wrestler for a good number of years now; I came into the business for� my own personal reasons. I�ve tried and tried to quit, but you see, its just not that easy. I�ve come back to wrestling, with my partner Talon as one half of Fusion and I� I� just can't quit wrestling! I�m sorry, I shouldn�t have c�come here!� The Jackrabbit suddenly steps from the circle and makes a beeline for the gym door� the camera crackles on the pre-recorded promo, breaking to static and suddenly returning us to the original scene of the promo� The viewing audience find themselves starting back into the face of the man on the three-legged stool in his weapon-strewn hut. The Jackrabbit is laughing at his own video package, hysterically, with his head tipped back, his shaded eyes staring at the wooded ceiling� eventually the laughter comes to a cease, and the unorthodox man looks back to the camera before him. His lips crack an over-enthusiastic smile, and he begins to speak in his unusual high-pitch. �Hello, �Rabbit Fans and �Rabbit Fans alike! That�s all there are, y�see and don�tchya know� �Rabbit Fans. Worldwide, Nationwide� heck, even in Canadia! See that belt over there?� He points over his shoulder at the belt-holding corkboard. �The colorful one� yep, that�s the TAW Canadian Heavyweight Championship� held that forever, and never even been to Canadia. Methinks I�ll chit-chatter to Boss One, or Boss Two, or Boss Three� see about going to see what Canadia is really actually like, yup. But first! I do �spect a lot of the �Rabbit Fans out in the HS-Dub audience are thinking and wondering and pondering to themselves� like this� �deary me, whatever be The Jackrabbit doing here in our wonderful HS-Dub?� Well you know what, I�ve been wondering the same thing actually myself. To be totally honest with you all�� He now breaks into a whisper to the camera. �My buddy Talon, he done all the thinking� I�m just here to look pretty.� He gives off what can almost be described as a girly-giggle, before returning to his normal, loud and fast tone of voice. �Speaking of ol� Tal� I guess you�ll be hearing a bit from the big guy when he gets bored in that big bad tower of his. There�s a lot of history between Talon and The Jackrabbit (that�s me, by the way!) � Some of it good, most of it bad, a little bit of it sweet, some of it sour, a tiny bit of sweet and sour, like chicken, in a yummy delicious sauce� �cept without the peppers, �cos soggy peppers ain�t so nice� yep yep, see, me and Tal we be like sweet and sour chicken� We was friends a long time ago� a long long time ago� a long long long time ago� but things happened�� The Jackrabbit shudders and though his eyes are hidden behind shades, it is apparent by the movement of his head that he is looking away from the camera and into the distance. A brief moment of silence passes, an abnormal fusion of awkwardness and bliss, before he looks back to the camera. �I don�t want to talk about those thingies, not now. Let�s talk about more happy stuff like bouncing and ice cream and wrestling. Jackrabbit and Talon became buddies again, and we joined ICWF� this place with Odjie as owner, where we was his men and I won the TV belt and so I was the master and supreme rule of all televisions worldwide! But the �Rabbit Fans there, they liked to go �boooooo� at us� Tal said t�was something about hating Odjie� but anyways, I got sidetracked again� I do that a lot, �cos it�s more fun to chitchat about lots of things at once than about one thing� hey hey! Let�s try that, shall we �Rabbit Fans? We�re going to talk about� uhm� HS-Dub� and about ice cream� at exactly the same time! Ready Or Not? We came to HSW seeking gold� it�s cold, and makes your tongue go all freezey�. �cos we are out to prove that our friendship � which sometimes also gives you headaches if you have too much too fast �, our friendship is true and solid now, not rocky like was before. HS-Dub is a really big company with lots of tough competition for me and you� you eat it with a spoon, or with a fork if you haven�t got no spoon, or with your hands if you haven�t got no fork� but Fusion, that�s us, we aim to plow through the competition like a plow, but without the engine, and the wheels, and the big shovel, and the driver�s seat, but otherwise, one-hundred percent like a snowplow� which comes in lots of flavors, such a chocolate and strawberry and vanilla, I like them all exactly the same� Lots of competition, but HS-Dub has a lot of different title belts up for grabs, though� and I would eat them all up into my belly without a second thought.� The Jackrabbit smiles widely, showing off a perfect set of teeth that are exaggeratedly white. He beams, looking extremely proud of himself, giving a thumbs-up to the camera. �See now, that wasn�t so difficult, and it made perfect sense, too! Now onto matters at foot� uh, hand� so confusing them, both having five fingers and all� except feet, which have, in fact, no fingers. We have opponents. Our little video thing on Shocker that Tal organized worked just lovely, �cos now we have two little dudes just waiting to wrestle us. One with an itchy pod, which I is sure he can get treatment for� and one that drinks lots of fizzy pops waaay too much; which again, I�m sure he can get treatment for. Don�t get me wrong; I like my fizzy pops as much as the next guy, and the one next to him, and even the one next to him too. But this Al Co-Pop just drinks and drinks and drinks, and staggers away all hyper �cos of the sugar rush� and its silly, its like, �man, stop drinking pop and start learning how to wrestle proper like what The Jackrabbit and Talon does�� Now, we hasn�t been around here much� I�ll admit that, watch.. �We hasn�t been around here much.� See there, I admitted it. That might must mean that we don�t know much at all about you guys, right? Well that may be true, and it is in fact, but Itchy Pod and Al Co-Pop� you know nothing about Jackrabbit and Talon, either. Unless you were TAW and UOWF fans. Or GWO fans. Or ICWF fans. But otherwise, what do you know? You know nothing! So it�s an equal playing field, (I think that�s what Tal called it)� which means we�re all the same. Except we�re better. You�re called Equi� Equ� Well, your name means that you�re all balanced right? That�s what Steamer was saying anywhos� Well you may be balanced, but you know what Fusion means�? No, seriously, do you know what Fusion means? If you find out, can you please tell me? Thanks. I�m terribly sorry Equi-dudes, but this Friday on Shocker, me and Tal got a bit of an impact to make. Y�see, it�s our first match in HS-Dub and Tal has explained to me that this means it�s a very important fight. If we win, we will be showing every �Rabbit Fan worldwide that Fusion means business in this place. If we lose, we will be showing every �Rabbit Fan worldwide that Fusion can�t take the first big bump on the path to meaning business in this place. I understand, as much as one Jackrabbit can understand, that this is no easy challenge� I-pod is a big name in this place, he�s even one of The Three Bosses and has held more titles than The Jackrabbit has eaten chocolate bars. This dude is like the king of the hill� but y�see Itchy� hey, Itchy is a little mousey from that Simpsons program� Aww� y�see Itchy, as great as mouses are and all that, they are no match to the jackrabbit. Now I-Pod, before you go getting me confused with a little cute bunny rabbit like every other person who speaks a promo about me does, get this right� the jackrabbit is the biggest and largest of all the hares, the strongest and fastest and most vicious. A jackrabbit, Itchy Pod, would eat a little mouse like yourself for breakfast, and then go hunting for dinner. Cotton candy, in particular. As for Al Co-Pop� well Al, I hope you have a nice big stash of Coca Cola, Sprite and Fanta� Icy Lemon!� ready for this Friday. You�ll need it; The Jackrabbit, Talon, oh we don�t go down without a fight. No, scratch that, we don�t go down. Period. Ol� Tal didn�t do all that searching and researching on HS-Dub just to have you Equi-peeps going over us in our first bout. We picked out HS-Dub above all the rest because it is the best there is, the best there was, and� was that the sound of the plagiarism sirens I heard outside? Hehehehehe! We picked out HS-Dub because we plan to move onwards and upwards here, because we plan to bounce boing and booow-nd over the hurdles... like a hurdling hurdle-jumping hurdler jumping over hurdles. That�s us. Al, you�re a hurdle. Both of you are hurdles. And I don�t mean, like, you�re made out of wood and have two legs� though you do, both, have, two legs� I mean that Fusion will be bouncing, bounding and boinging over you boys. I suppose you�re sat there, thinking as you�re drinking (winking and stinking) your fizzy pops and shining all your old belts, ... you�re thinking, what o for the love of ice-cream what makes this wack-job so damn confident? How does he know, sat there in his old-school vintage Hut Of Hardcore, that Fusion will be winning this upcoming match? What has The Jackrabbit got that Itchy Pop and Al Co-Pop of Equi-thingamajig don�t? I�ll tell you. �Cos I�m nice like that, I am. Guys� The Jackrabbit always gets The Last Laugh!� The Jackrabbit suddenly bursts out into a spout of insane, hysterical laughter, his head once more tipped back so that his long hair falls down his back and his eyes, shaded by sunglasses, facing upwards at the ceiling. His cackling seems uncontrollable, by either his own hand or any other. The blazing light bulb above him gives a coincidental flicker, which does not seem to bother the man at all. The �Hut Of Hardcore� around him gives a creak, presumably from the dying wood that makes up the small building. The camera zooms slowly out as The Jackrabbit laughs, moving further and further from him like a creature feared on something bigger than itself. The screen suddenly begins to crackle, and the scene cuts to static, barely covering the sound of the unstopping laughter. This is finally stopped as we exit to the blue HSW logo.