Resilience, the act of never backing down and never giving up. Even when the going gets tough, those with a degree of resilience will fight it, will keep on pushing and keep on coming. Sometimes the problems we face will get on top of us, and hold us down. Sometimes everything becomes a little too much, and that�s when we need to take a moment to catch our breath. With resilience, we plough through adversity and surmounting odds. With each and every loss, we keep going for that big win that will make it all seem worth it. Nobody stays in the low forever, its just a matter of seeing which of those will keep on going until it is their turn to come out on the high. The scene opens slowly into apparently a stark black and white image. The image itself shows to the camera what appears to be a series of capsules, elongated and transparent. The first capsule fills our screens, before being pulled away and replaced by another. This capsule, identical to the last in every way, follows the arc made by the first, disappearing off the camera�s sights; only to be replaced in perfect, harmonic timing, by another identical capsule. Seeking the answer to curious questions, the camera lens begins to zoom out, slowly at first, gradually speeding up. We see that the capsules, still shrouded by the black and white gauze through which we view, are attached by rods to a central axel, and they are rotating in an enormous loop on a set of joined circles. The black and white makes the scene a little harder to determine, but we distinguish the water below this gigantic wheel and the bridge in the background. The buildings of Westminster accompany what can only be the world-renowned London Eye in the great capital of England. Our black and white vision now slowly lowers itself to the ground just before the enormous Ferris wheel, where there waits a long line of excited tourists awaiting their chance to �fly� the Eye on this late Summer afternoon. The black and white of the screen makes every single one of them anonymous and bland, indifferent to everyone else around them; except for one man. One single figure in this queue appears to be immune to the black and white shroud, the bright colors of his skin showing like a beacon in the bland. Bright blonde hair coupled with bright blue tartan long-shorts, a pair of sunshades with a silver frame, and a black T-shirt coupled with the colorful blue and gold lettering of the Headstrong Wrestling �Global Domination� logo. An aqua blue felt tip pen, however, appears to have defaced this article of clothing with the words �BYE IT NOW! ON PAPER VIEW! PLEEZE! CHEERZ MOOCH, CHAPS!� Adorning the waist at the base of this T-shirt is a leather belt, shimmering through the black and white surroundings with a silver glint, intercontinental flags embellishing the words �WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPION� beneath the globally-familiar HSW logo. The Jackrabbit looks across directly into the camera, lifting his sunshades from his eyes for only long enough to give a big, exaggerated wink. He looks back to the queue he is part of, stepping forward as it progresses, before turning back to the camera and folding his arms across the Global Domination logo on his chest. THE JACKRABBIT: �Well hmph hmph and more hmphety hmph, eh? You know what I did, don�tchya my loyal �Rabbit Fans. Oh yes, you do. I only went and gone and lost again! I can honestly one-hundred and four percent promise I didn�t mean to do it. It just happened. Frankly� well, not Frankly, �cos I don�t be called Frank obviously�. So, Jackrabbitly, I blame that Vain dude. That Alan, guy. I mean, after all, t�was him what pinned me on that HS-Dub mat for one, two, three, four, five, six� oh, sorry, I only meant to three, I just got carried away, hehe! Oh, not literally, don�t worry� I�m still here, sillies. So basically� whenever there do be tag team matches with Talon� The Jackrabbit and Talon� that�s Fusion� that�s us!� we be winning. We got these here World Tag Team thingamajigs to prove that we be truly the best at Tag Team� ing. But whenever Boss One and Boss Two go sticking The Jackrabbit� that�s me!� into a singles match, just one on one on one on one� I�m stuffed. Screwed. Done for. Finished. Kaput. Beat. I�m guessing I must have lost my touch� now for Ice-cream�s sake, don�t ask me where I lost it, I just must have. I�m thinking I might have lost it somewhere in ICWF� that was the last place I had it, �cos nobody was beating me back over there. �Cept that Sully guy and that Kinder Egg dude, but that�s another story entirely. I was the Television Champino over there and I was never-ever-ever beaten for it� then the stupid place closed. Which is a pity really, �cos it means I won�t be getting my touch back any time soon.� He sighs. �Not to worry though, �Rabbit Fans� methinks Talon will probably have a spare touch I can borrow.� At this point, a guy tries to push his way past The Jackrabbit in the queue, as the HSW superstar seems to be too caught up in his promo to notice the line moving closer to the London Eye. Growling like an angered puppy, The Jackrabbit grabs the guy by the arm and forces him back behind him. The guy glares up at the slightly-taller professional wrestler. GUY: �Hey mate, you could try paying attention to the bloody queue then. Daft fag.� The Jackrabbit looks at the guy inquisitively for a moment. He tilts his head to one side. Then to the other. Then finally he looks back to the camera, grinning his usual stupid grin and staring through heavily-tinted sunshades. THE JACKRABBIT: �See, was like this back in Ozzystralia. They all speaked proper talk, but they spoke funny words with it, too. I guess it�s better than the ching chong dong a long kong pong that they spoke over in Japan though. Kinda like these Mexico-an Jackmallets what me and Tal are facing for our shiny belts on Shocker this Friday. They don�t be speaking a word of proper Americanish either.� By this point, The Jackrabbit hasn�t even realized he has now reached the front of the queue for the Eye. He grins to the attendants that take his ticket then watch him hop, skip and jump like his namesake into the beautiful air-conditioned glass capsule of the Ferris wheel. As other passengers fill the remaining room in the capsule around him, The Jackrabbit appears to fumble in the leg of his tartan long-shorts for something. The capsule continues its slow ascent as the doors slide closed. In what can be described only as an attempt at subtlety, The Jackrabbit suddenly slips a long roll of cloth, akin to a rolled-up bed sheet, into the closing doorway, and the automatically sealed doors trap it. The cloth unfurls outside the door, billowing out like a flag, to reveal the spray-painted words in blue. �HS-DUB GLOBAL DENOMEENAYSHUN! NEXT SUNDAY! TICKETS SOLD OUT! PRE-ORDER FROM YOUR TELI PEEPLE THO! CHEERZ BRITS!� Luckily for our Friendly Neighborhood Jackrabbit, the attendant is aiding an elderly woman who is having difficulty getting onto the capsule directly behind his, and his impromptu advertising attempt as official HSW Global Domination Representative goes unnoticed. Happy that his flag is now swaying, albeit dangerously, from the capsule, The Jackrabbit busies himself watching the jaw-dropping sight of the city of London stretching out before him as the capsule climbs higher. Noticing the Millennium Dome, recently re-named The O2 in a pitiful advertising attempt, The Jackrabbit hops up and down on the spot, pointing an outstretched arm at the unusual building and the London Eye�s sister in welcoming the new millennium to England. THE JACKRABBIT: �Ooooh Oooooh! The big white dome, that�s where my buddy Tal said we�d be fighting on Friday. We�re defending our precious little Tag Team belts against some strange dudes called The Mexican Jack-In-The-Boxes. Or mallets. Jackmallets-In-Boxes.. uh�Well, first off, I�d like to make a point of pointing out.. that there�s only room enough in HS-Dub for one Jack. Captain Jack Sp� no no, I mean.. The Jackrabbit! That�s me, for those who didn�t know. Now Jackmallets are all well and good, but Jackrabbits are just, honestly, better. For starters, Jackrabbits don�t break things. Well except windows.. and displays.. oh, and boats.. and restaurants.. oh, and Talon�s tower that once� oh, and that big thingy in Ozzystralia. But other than that, Jackrabbits don�t break things. Secondly, Jackrabbits aren�t just, like, tools. These Mexicans are tools, though. Hahahahaha! I was watching Shocker on the tele while we was at Shocker� I was watching to see if I came on there, y�see, but I never do for some weird reason. I guess I must always come on the tele whilst I�m having my matches, which is just plain annoying. Anywho, I saw these Mexican Jack-In-The-Boxes pop up and it was very funny. One was this big fat lady and she couldn�t even get up the stairs� she could barely walk! Which means me and Tal will have no problem beating her in the ring on Friday. We�ll just whip her down the ramp, you see, and it will take her the rest of the night to get back to the ring. Then it�s just a matter of beating on the other one. This other dudey, he�s like� some sort of daredevil. So, I�ve been plotting, y�see. Well, I know my comic books so this Jack-In-The-Box is in trouble; I�m no fool, I know that Daredevil is blind. See, Daredevil he�s real clever, he listens really special hard and then beats up them people that makes a noise. Sooooooo with that in mind, during Shocker, me and Tal, the HS-Dub Tag Team Champinos of the Wooooooorrrrrrld, we�re gonna fight this daredevil Jack reeeeally quietly! T�will be all like� ssssssshhhhh, smack! Ssssssssh, whack! Sssssssh crackle, pop! Then wham bam thank you mam, Last Laugh, Death From Above, Fusion Bomb, pin, one, six, three. Simple, really? By this point, the big fat lady will probably have just reached the first row of fans at the back. Apparently these Mexico-an peoples been told by some dead dudey that they�re supposed to win these pretty silver gold belts off Fusion. Well I hope the Jacks realize that dead people don�t talk, firstly, and secondly, the dudey is probably dead for saying such stupid things. Everybody who is anybody which is everybody�s nobody knows that Fusion won�t be dropping these here World Tag Team belts for at least a� decentury, if not two. The silly screwballs can�t even get our names right. I mean, come on, Tackalacknico? That�s almost as ridiculous as� uh.. well, as what his actual name used to be! Now me, personally, me always likes to have the decency to learn my opponents names. And learn them properly and learn them well. Take, for example, Jonny Bee and Krispy Carmaker� �ah yes, speaking of those screwballs, I almost forgot to do my advertising job for Boss One and Boss Two!� And with that said, The Jackrabbit begins laughing as loud as he can, momentarily attracting the attention of everybody in his London Eye capsule with him. Reaching into the deep pockets of his tartan long-shorts, the Tag Team champion pulls out a can. A spray-paint can, to be absolutely accurate. From the opposite leg of his shorts than last time, he then retrieves a second bed sheet, identical to the one dangling precariously from the sealed capsule door, minus the writing. Flattening the sheet out on the floor of the capsule, The Jackrabbit shakes his blue spray can, hearing the familiar rattling from inside. He lifts the spray-paint can up to spray out a second advertisement on this new, clean sheet� and at the exact same moment looks out of the window, noticing that his capsule has now practically reached the top of the London Eye and is looking out over the city of London from 443 feet high in the air. Suddenly the HSW wrestler goes into a panic attack, screaming and shouting and running around in an attempt to get away from the heights of which he is very much terrified, his finger pushing down on the spray-paint can at the same time. As he leaps to his feet and spins around in panicked circles , the contained blue paint covers the capsule windows and several astonished passengers at the same time. The Jackrabbit�s high-pitched screaming continues as the entire capsule is slowly becoming blue, including the camera lens. All we see is blue, a deep blue, wet and runny, dripping down our screens. We are greeted by the accompaniment of crackling; static. We return to the scene some time later, when it seems the blue spray paint has been removed from the camera lens. We have also moved location, our focus now on one of the quieter streets of London, if such a thing were possible, the ominous presence of the Big Ben clock tower in the background, the presence of the Houses of Parliament little more than a backdrop. We hear a giggling, high-pitched and quick, from somewhere, and the camera spins around. More dim streets, but no source of high-pitched giggling. Then suddenly we hear it again, behind the camera just like before, and it spins again. This time we see him, black T-shirt, tartan long-shorts and World Tag Team title belt alike. The Jackrabbit stands before us� well, technically, he is bouncing before us. Knocking on the camera lens with a knuckle, he then pushes it backwards. Without falling over as you might expect, the camera merely floats back as though he had just nudged a balloon, and we see his full body length, walking down the street towards the camera, our view hovering backwards at the same pace as his strides. THE JACKRABBIT: �Ugh, that was horrible. Who�s idea was that, anywho? Well, mine. But nobody told me that that Eyeball thingy actually goes up high!! I don�t much like heights. Hm� Talon did though, hahaahah. Talon loved heights when he finished Jonny Ayy off with a Death From Above! And pinned him too. Y�see, JonJon and his buddy Krispy Carmaker, they think they�re so tough� they pick on peoples and they bully them but what they don�t realize is time and time again, it is Fusion coming out on top. And last week was just the nail in the sarcophagus for them two screwballs. Well personally, me hopes me and Tal get to face JonJon and Krispy in some sort of match. Maybe Boss One and Boss Two will schedule it for this Global Denomination thingy. And we will finally get our opportunity to show Jonny Double-You and Krispy Carmaker what Fusion are made of. They will learn the hard way that we be tough as nails� no, nails are kinda bendy. We�re tough as steel. No no, Steele made naughty films. We�re tough as.. uhm.. something that never breaks. Rubber, that�s all bendy and very tough to break. JonJon and Krispy will learn that Fusion are made of rubber! Tal tells me that Krispy be wrestling with Carlos from The Sopranos or something. All a bit confusing. However, all I can say is this. Krispy, I hope you win that match, �cos your team is really needing a win lately� Jonny Ohh didn�t beat Tal last week, and neither of you will beat us at all when we meet head-to-head. Y�know, when me and Talon are through with these� these Mexican Jack-In-The-Boxes, mayhaps then we can put our World Tag Team title belts on the line to show you screwballs that Fusion are a real team� best buddies in the start and best buddies in the end. And maybe when we�ve shown you and all of HS-Dub that we are the most deserveded tag team to these here belts�. Well, maybe then you dopes will realize that when Talon rises, none shall block his path� and as for The Jackrabbit� well, he always gets The Last Laugh!!! HAHAHAHAA!!� Tipping back his head, The Jackrabbit begins laughing at a hysterical rate, somehow without missing a single step in his path. The camera, still moving back, slowly zooms forward into the open mouth of The Jackrabbit, our view absorbed by the red of his tongue. Far from over though, the scene returns to the London Eye in London, England. However, the magnificent ride appears to be temporarily stopped. The bottom most capsule, in line with ground level, has its doors open, a bed sheet unfurled in a heap on the floor. The windows and seat and floor inside the usual transparent capsule is not a bright blue in color. A crowd of curious tourists surround the capsule, along with the Eye�s security members and a small squad of British police officers. The chatter amongst the people is loud and clamored, each and every one of them wishing to know what on Earth happened inside that London Eye capsule. The blue-stained victims of The Jackrabbit�s frenzy fueled by his fear of heights stand in front of some British officers, giving their eye-witness accounts of the whole ordeal. The Jackrabbit himself, however, is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly onto the chaotic scene walks a man, a very authoritative spring to his hasty step. Short black hair swept to one side, a dark leather trench coat falling down his back over top a white shirt, the collar unbuttoned and the waistline untucked. A pair of shades cover the mans eyes, the lenses so dark it is impossible to see his eyes. Stopping at the scene, United States international affairs police officer Leon Anders folds his arms and calls to the closest British policeman he can see. LEON ANDERS: �You there� I�m Detective Chief Inspector Leon Anders from the United States policing outfit. Am I to assume the man who did this was not caught?� POLICEMAN: �No sir, he fled the bloomin� scene before we could get here. We�re interviewing the eye-witnesses at this moment.� LEON ANDERS: �Long blonde hair, black T-shirt, blue tartans� am I right?� The British policeman looks particularly surprised at the American inspector�s assumption. POLICEMAN: �Uhm� yeah mate, spot on.� Anders nods and sighs, wondering to himself how this crazy man manages to elude police all over the globe. The country-hopping nature of his work made him difficult to track, but Anders knew it was only a matter of time before he received the correct warrants to catch the man. This latest incident was sure to provide him with all the evidence he needed to nail the man they could only this far identify as �The Jackrabbit.� Surely this man had a name? That name would, surely, bring up an entire database of information on this vandalizing international lunatic. And surely, Anders knew, that information coupled with the proof and warrants he was now able to obtain would soon find this� wrestler� in court with half a dozen offenses being dropped on his head. Anders smiled to himself, proudly. He had never liked pro-wrestlers, anyway.