The scene opens. All around for as far as the camera�s view can see; there is green. Lush and tall and risen to roughly waist height, it grows; green. The camera does a quick panning shot to the left, spinning one hundred and eighty degrees. But it is the same, with green plantation growing on all sides. The camera begins to track forwards, but again there is no change. Instead the lens now does a zoom on the plantation growing all around, and from the appearance of one of the three-horned leaves, it becomes apparent that all the vegetation around is marijuana. The camera picks up a sound, almost like the crunching of leaves under foot, and a faint giggling off-camera. And then there is a loud thud and an �owch!� The camera spins ninety degrees this time and can see a patch of the marijuana has been badly damaged. Slowly from under the vegetation, a figure staggers to its feet. First there rises long blonde hair, and a pair of shining sunshades. A black T-shirt comes next, depicting the logo of the Insane Championship Wrestling Federation, and over it is draped a thick, plated, leather belt. The figure stands now, the marijuana plants covering his legs up his waist. The silly grin is as good as any to show this is The Jackrabbit. **We come to consciousness. The first thing that hits us is the smell, the smell of life. Strong, definite, forming a picture within our mind. The picture is of a three-horned leaf, coming into our mind as though from no prior knowledge. Marijuana, the leaf. A drug that is strong, coveted by many, taken by man to change their perception, to alter the reality before them, to offer a release that they so greatly crave. We open our eyes, seeing the definite lushness of well cultivated, cared for plant life, worth several times more than its weight in gold. As we slowly look around the scene that confronts us, a man looms into our view, striding slowly across the field. His legs lost in the marijuana, yet his body towers above it, his leather jacket covering an off-white t-shirt with an illustrated eagle on it. His face is hard, the long hair trailing down over his neck and shoulders. The man that walks towards us is the enigma Talon.** The Jackrabbit spins around, almost tripping over some of the marijuana beneath his feet, as he feels a hand gripping his shoulder. His eyes widen at the large form in front of him, until he realizes who the large form is. THE JACKRABBIT: �Heya Tal!� TALON: �So, you have arrived, my friend. To learn, seemingly, what you wish to know on marijuana� THE JACKRABBIT: �Mara-what-now-majig?� TALON: �Look around you, Jay. Marijuana is the plant that grows, a favorite of our opponents this weekend� a substance to dumb the senses and null the mind.� The Jackrabbit grins from ear-to-ear and reaches down to grab at a leaf of marijuana at his feet, but Talon smacks his hand away. TALON: �That would be unwise.� THE JACKRABBIT: �Why why oh why? If Hop is allowed to eat it all up why ain�t I? It�s not fair it�s not it�s not! It looks yummy anywho! Ohhh� Tal, why did Hop think they will beat us so easy? Don�t they realize that I am The ICWF Jobber Champion of the wooooooooorld, and you are� you are TALON! �and they are just two peoples what used to be champs� some time� once� in the past� some time ago!� Talon nods his agreement with his friend, taking a casual look around the field of marijuana. When he looks back, he sees The Jackrabbit chewing on a piece of marijuana as if it were candy. Talon growls, snatching the marijuana from his friend�s mouth and tossing it to the ground. THE JACKRABBIT: "That was nasty again! Stop doing that, Tal! If you keep stealin' my grass-stuff I'll beat yous up at Inferno instead of Hop, but don't worry Tal, oh no no don't, Hop will get it anywho. They isn't getting away with all they keeps saying, thinking that The Jackrabbit... that's me!... isn't really great and super and that they has more experience than us. We done plenty of 'rasslin' ain't we, Tal? Back in GWO, remember? Well Hop, you may be chumps before, but not this time! The Jackrabbit... that's me!... and Tal... that's him!... are gonna get them twin title thingies, not you! Us us uuuuus! Now lemme eat some of that grass stuff, Tal!" TALON: �Fool, you do not eat it. You set fire to the substance and smoke it, but doing so will reduce you to the levels of our opponents this coming Inferno�� No sooner had the word Inferno left his lips as The Jackrabbit dropped the leaf of marijuana he had set on fire in an attempt to use it. The flame had reached his fingertips, burning the skin and causing him to release the leaf. Instantly the entire field of marijuana for as far as the eye could see was alight, a blaze of red and orange enveloping around the two. The Jackrabbit looked around, for a moment stunned, and then began to grin and bounce on the spot. THE JACKRABBIT: �Fiiiiiire! Weeee!� Talon began to shake his head with a sigh, grabbing The Jackrabbit and pulling him through the burning field of marijuana, dragging him along behind him as he speak, The Jackrabbit occasionally shrieking as he gets burnt, but Talon hardly seeming to flinch. Slowly Talon looks to the camera. TALON: �How ironic it is, House of Pain, in your comparisons that you make for myself and Jay. That you compare me to the uncontrolled, maniac Mr Hyde, whereas you compare my friend to the intelligent, good, Doctor Jekyll. The roll of uncontrolled cannot go to me, for unlike many you may meet, my body is perfectly controlled by my mind, and my mind is my own. Completely controlled, enslaved to my will. Unlike some, such as you, who decide that it is fine for them to smoke marijuana, maybe to foolish to realise the distraction, the damage it may cause. The fact that it will take away from them, even if only slightly, yet each time more and more, until, almost unbeknown to them they lose control, they lose the conscious thought process that needs to be retained if they ever are to obtain any sort of minor victory over any living creature. They lose the very thing that might make them human, they very thing that rises them above the kingdom of animals. The one strength that has allowed them to survive to reproduce, to successfully cover this Earth like a viral swarm infects its host cell, destroying all, before eventually blooming out, looking for more to infect, as we most surely shall. Yet back to you, Derek Mobley. Are you the more sensible, the tactician? Do you avoid this drug, that dulls your senses, kills your mind? Do you avoid all that does so, I do not know. I admit that I may have been as lax on my research as you yourselves have. Tag team champions, so you boast, former, having many wins and victories in your littered career. But as I say, former. Past victories, past experiences, past connections with one and the other, teaming up to fight as one unit, combined and strengthened by your mutual bond. Of respect? Of necessity? It matters little, for even the strongest bond breaks in the face of pressure, of force, of strength. Even the most sensible can break in the face of insanity, such as my friend Jay can demonstrate. The unorthodox fighting style of a man who�s mind has long left, long changed to different thoughts. Someone who is unpredictable, who goes on whim, who cannot telegraph a move because a few seconds before it occurs even he does not know what it shall be, let alone the hapless opponent. And then Warrick Hill. A paranoid fool, most seemingly, from the actions I have seen him take. Surely the skill is there in the ring, the skill to win a match, to turn it to his advantage. Yet is it enough to survive in the face of the hunted turn hunter? Unlikely. Many before now have tried, many before now have failed to face the enigma and walk away with their gold still clasped within their hands. You are no different from countless others, Derek Mobley, Warrick Hill. You are just the next that I must face. That we must face. For when the phoenix rises, we will have the last laugh.� Hearing the catchphrase in use, The Jackrabbit begins to laugh hysterically, Talon releasing his collar now to let him stand, tip back his head and laugh. Jumping up and down now, The Jackrabbit looks into the camera, pushing up his glasses and rolling his eyes into the lens. THE JACKRABBIT: �Ready Or Not�. Here We Come, Hoppy!� As usual, Talon shook his head and the camera zoomed in over his shoulder, focusing on the ever-consuming flames that sent clouds from the weed into the air, the fires ever-consuming with an unquenchable hunger.