Darkness is thick in the air, like low clouds. In fact, it is fog, a dark, gray, thick fog that is clouding up the scene. Lights can be seen distantly, and the scene is set atop a high building. Close to the clouds. The building is high, and the street below is unimportant and unnoticed. The top of the building comes into clear focus now. Now there is movement upon the roof. As the view zooms in, two young men become apparent, barely started working, walking out of the stairs onto the roof. They wear torn and tattered clothing. Taking their time, they stand side by side, their voices unheard. All the time there is a light, friendly banter ringing through the air. Before long though, a bitter argument starts. The voices cannot be heard properly, but there is a note of anger, which constantly increases, and reaches a crescendo. Without warning, one man throws himself at the other, and they start punching each other, and grappling trying to throw each other to the ground. �Arghhhhh!� The scene abruptly changes without a fade to that of a man of late twenties lying in his bed. The man has piercing blue eyes, and mid-length, blonde hair, and is wearing no top under the gray, stained bed sheets. The man is recognizable as The Jackrabbit of the PwO! Jackrabbit looks disturbed, and his eyes fail to leave the camera staring straight at him. The only movement is under the bed sheets, and from the lump it is visible that for no reason The Jackrabbit is feeling his legs with his hands, as if checking that they are still there. Satisfied that he is in one piece, Jackrabbit wipes the sweat from his head, and throws back the bed sheets to reveal a pair of gray, tartan long-shorts. �He had the same dream� nightmare� tonight. I am just glad that for me it ended early� earlier than on a lot of occasions. But I don�t want to talk about the nightmares. Or about that day. Or about him. They are not funny topics, which means they are not suitable topics of conversation. I will keep things like that in my head and let you all know other stuff. Stuff like the questions am I loyal to PwO? Yeah, I am as loyal as PwO as a chicken is to his food. Well, in fact, I�m even more loyal than that. PwO is my birth place, and the place that is going to make The Jackrabbit into a star. An even bigger star, that is, than he already is. PwO needs help right now. �Traitor� Travice Blackman played little mind games with Milly, and for that Trav has had his scrawny ass kicked. But with Blackman went a few of PwO�s livelihoods. It�s members, so to speak. But PwO needs no more big time players, because PwO has got The Jackrabbit. PwO needs some low card nobodies to give me as opponents in my title shots and defenses. That�s it! PwO is very much alive, and it is alive in the form of The Jackrabbit; that�s me! Milly may be the foundation building blocks of the Pro Wrestling Organization, but I am the rivets, the main frame even, that is keeping the PwO standing on two feet. You could even call me �The One Man Federation� or the �The One Rabbit Roster� because they ain�t no need for anything more. Milly, give me some low carder, some jobber, the best PwO has to offer in it�s current weakened, yet growing, form. You know, like that 4M guy was, or NaTas. Yo, even Cicero or Commander would suit me fine. Some easy toy that Jackrabbit can have his laughs with, and ditch when he�s bored. I just want a one on one match, my first one on one match to get my funny bones all warmed up. Two weeks of no wrestling competition is cranking me up just a bit, I am killing to unleash some of this contained anger that these damn nightmares is brewing up. PwO will be back in a ction soon, and when it does, you can be sure as damn it, that The Jackrabbit will be ready to wipe the smile off some sorry opponent�s face. Why? Because The Jackrabbit always gets The Last Laugh!� The Jackrabbit jumps up out of bed, and throws a white �X-Men� T-shirt over his bare top, before walking out of the dull room, heeding Jackrabbit�s words as he leaves: �I must find him soon� this is too much.�