{-Prologue-}

Everything and everyone depends on something else. In life, you must depend on something, or someone else to survive...whether it be depending on the armed forces to defend you, depending on the local supermarket to supply you with food, or depending on a loved one in a time of need. Whatever it may be, you must depend on something. For Jack Valentine, he depends on his desire...his desire to win the PCW World Heavyweight Championship. This landmark of an achievement would represent everything that Jack has hoped for in his entire life. You see...this title represents superiority, it represents greatness. Jack Valentine wants to be recognized for being an over achiever, he wants to be famous for being the best. Jack Valentine depends on his desire to win, his desire to dream, his desire to be the best that he can be. Will Jack be able to follow through with these desires? It all depends on if he carries through with them in the immediate future, because now is a far greater time than any other for Jack Valentine to prove to the world that his heart is burning to become champion.

{-Promo-}

It was a small glade, this place. With a fine grassy sward, leading down to a quietly bubbling stream that ran off into a misty distance. A neatly made camp was basking in the late afternoon sunlight, which also glanced off the withers of the gorgeous blonde haired woman, Christina Livingston, gracefully bathing in the stream. As the sunlight fell, the campfire arose, and the glistening sparks coming from the inferno shot off like firecrackers. Christina and Jack gathered by the campfire, discussing thoughts on various subjects under the crisp, cool air of the nocturnal hours. As Jack and Christina fondled each other throughout the darkness of the night, a mysterious glaze came across the camera...like a dream sequence. When the glaze finally vanished, a confused Valentine awoke, but much to his surprise, he was not at the campground any longer. He was in the middle of an abandoned wrestling ring...shattered lights, broken chairs, torn ropes. Above him a shiny, metallic object...what looks to be the PCW World Title, just out of his reach. Surrounding him inside the ring was a massive amount of trashcans, tables, ladders and chairs. This perhaps was a symbollic metaphor for what is to come. The world title is just out of his hands, all he has to do is get through the objects, figure out a way to reach the belt, and the championship is his.

I was right there. The belt was in my grasp. It stood out in the old wrestling ring like a beautiful woman. The pure gold was motionless as it hung from the ceiling. I reached a hand up to grab the immortal object. "Ouch." I yelped, stepping back and flexing a hand. "That stung." I took a deep breath, and stepped forward again with both hands extended up for the belt. Again, when I touched the object, it gave me a sharp pain that ran down my arm as fast as a cheetah. I had the PCW title right there in my grasp and I couldn't do anything about it. I wanted so desperately to take hold of that belt and claim it as my own, but the mere fact that I was not able to touch it made me melancholy. Maybe it was the odd force of the objects in the ring that were holding me back. The trashcans...the tables...the ladders...the chairs. They had some mystical aura to them...it was like they held some sort of power that kept me from grabbing that belt. It was kind of symbolic, you know...I would have to get through the tables, ladders and chairs match on Turmoil to do well in my match with Trashcan Man on Sabotage. I would have to get through all of these things before I could advance any closer to the title.

Jack plopped himself down in one of the ring corners, away from all of the objects, thinking intensely about the situation. He brought his eyes in on the belt, and with an extreme feeling of desire in the room, Jack was determined to capture that belt. As Jack sat there in the ring, thinking, an unbelievable event happened. The table, the ladder, the chair...they all came to life. They all had eyes, a nose, a mouth...even hands and feet.

"This can't be real," I thought as I looked on in trepidation. How could these objects come to life? Was I dreaming? I couldn't remember where I had been before that wrestling ring, but it was so real. The table, ladder and the chair were glaring at me, with an evil look in their eyes. Something had gone terribly wrong...I had no idea how this could happen, but I had no choice but to defend myself. The foreign objects were after me, and I hadn't had the slightest clue as to why.

The objects moved in closer...and closer. Seemingly, the objects were growing in size as they gained ground on a bedazzled Valentine. The table lashed out at Valentine, cutting him across the top of his forehead. Valentine was now trembling in fear, as anyone would do at the sight of non-living objects animating themselves and coming to life. The chair and ladder went after Valentine, but he quickly moved out of the way. Valentine then lashed out at the chair, smashing it with kicks and punches until the dented being was no more. Valentine then grabbed the now useless chair and ravished the hinges of the ladder over and over again until the ladder was no more. The dangerous table was still lurking about however, and it was out to get vengeance on Valentine. As it moved in on the suspecting Valentine, Jack jumped up in the air, spun around and cracked the table in half with a mere kick. The objects were now annhilated, shattered and some may say dead.

"What just happened?" I congetated. I wiped the blood off of my forehead with a dirty rag that lay nearby. In any event, I had faced my fears and conquered the tables, ladders and chairs. What a glorious moment, although suttle in its own right mind. That may have represented a victory over Duke Williams and Tommy Christopher at Turmoil. It may have represented nothing. I was still confused at this point. Why had these foreign objects come to life, and why were they attacking me? I somehow knew that I was dreaming, yet still it felt like this was a total reality. Even though I knew that this could not take place in the real world, I thought something terrible had gone wrong, as I couldn't remember anything before that day. When I tried to put everything in its place, I soon realized that the trashcan was still in the ring...the dreaded trashcan that I had believed to represent Trashcan Man. "Why didn't it come to life," I meditated.

Jack sauntered over to the trashcan which sat motionless on the mat. He poked at it several times with his foot. Jack then lifted the trashcan up and put it close to his ear to see if he could hear anything, yet to no avail. A look of frustration, even a hint of anger came across the normally well-mannered Valentine. An evil smirk refined the face of Valentine as he lifted the trashcan above his head and proceeded to smash it over and over again until the trashcan looked more like a scrap of aluminum. As a small drip of drool came trickling down Valentine's mouth, the trashcan reformed itself into its original shape. Valentine dropped the can and abruptly stepped back away from it.

"What the-," I said, before being interrupted by another miraculous moment. The trashcan was taking the form of a human being. It changed from a trashcan to a human. "How could this be possible?" I wondered. I slowly crept back into the corner of the ring, apprehensive, yet anxious at the same time. I was afraid of this immortal trashcan, yet I was astounded by its ability. When the transformation finally came to a halt, the new life-form looked exactly like me. "I can't believe this," I thought as I circled around the motionless being. I went to touch it, and as I did so, it turned into a shiny, metallic version of me, wearing a shirt that said, "I am Trashcan Man."

The "metallic clone" still stood motionless in the center of the burnt out ring. Valentine, still in awe, went over to touch the supernatural trashcan. The second that Jack put his hand on the object, it came to life, snatching at Valentine and grabbing his forearm. Jack tried to pull away, but he couldn't do it, and he struggled in that ring, weeping like a little girl who just lost her puppy. The trashcan threw Jack onto the old canvas mat.

"Don't touch me," exclaimed the clone. "I hate it when people touch me."

"Who are you, how is this happening, where am I, what's go-"

"Whoa there tiger...so many questions and so little of me. I am Trashcan Man, you're in a wrestling ring, and I'm here to help you"

"You're not Trashcan Man. You look nothing like him. You look exactly like me."

"Ah...what's this we have here? A brain surgeon? Of course I look like you, nimrod..."

"But...um...I don't understand."

"Don't you know this is a dream? You picked the form of me...I don't know why you did it, I'm just here to help you get used to what it's going to be like fighting Trashcan Man at Sabotage."

"Why would I need your help? What kind of dream is this?"

"Don't ask me...it's your dream...you put me here."

"Maybe it's because I self-consciously think I need to beat my own negative thoughts to overcome the ability of the Trashcan Man. I might be feeling that I need to beat myself before I need to beat you...err...Trashcan Man. But, I rea-"

"Uhhhhh...whatever, I was just sent here to train you...get you into shape for the real Trashcan Man."

"OK, what do you need me to do?"

The metallic clone snapped his fingers and two small trashcans appeared in the ring. The clone reached over and grabbed one of them and signaled for Jack to do the same. Jack picked up the trashcan and looked at it. The clone held the skinny trashcan like a sword and hinted for Jack to do the same.

"Onguard!"

"What?"

"Come on girly man, put up a fight."

"What am I supposed to do, hit you with a trashcan?"

The clone engaged the battle by smashing his trashcan over the head of Valentine, sending him renderless to the canvas.

"No..no.." the clone said, patiently, as if he was trying to help Valentine. "You've got to keep that other end even with your shoulders." The clone tapped the lower end of Valentine's trashcan with his own. "If you let it get behind you, it's easy for me to knock the top part like this.." Smack. "and get you off balance."

"Damnit!" Jack exclaimed, reaching for his hand. "That really hurt. What is this anyway? Fencing? This isn't wrestling at all."

"If you can't beat me in all aspects of the game, than you will never beat me in any aspect. You've got to rise above all of your fears and face me...man to man."

"Yeah, but this isn't even real...and it's fighting with trashcans for godsake. How in the hell is this going to help me?"

"Like I said, if you can't beat me in your dreams, you will never be able to beat me in real life."

"OK, now I get it...you were applying the psychological logic that subconciously, I need to feel that I can beat you bef-"

"Hold it...when did you get smart?"

"I guess it's only in my dreams..."

The metallic clone chuckles at the remark. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Now resume your stance and get back to the fight."

"OK, what about this?" A quick reverse, trying to get through the clone's defenses by countering the supernatural being's left to right move. Almost. Jack chewed his lip in concentration. Ah... He shifted his weight to his left foot, and feinted, but swung right, aiming for knee leve, then reversed again, sending the top end of the trashcan right for the clone's metallic shoulders.

"Better." The clone drawled, blocking the knee shot, but allowing the shoulder hit through, catching it on his aluminum body, and deflecting it, then moving his own trashcan in a blur, to crack against Valentine's, and send it flying.

"No fair." Valentine complained, shaking out his stinging hands. "You are covered in metal. What kind of competition is that? The real Trashcan Man won't be covered in metal."

"But it will be like he is covered in metal with his abilites...but, if you're going to whine and bitch about it, I'll take it off." The clone snapped his fingers and the metallic covering disappeared. He and Jack looked identical now, except for the clothing. Jack was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a pink vest, while the clone had the "Trashcan Man" shirt on. The clone walked over to grab Valentine's trashcan. He handed it back to Jack and prepared for another round. "Ready?"

Valentine blinked, then swallowed hard. "Uh. Yeah." He gathered his scattered wits, and brought his trashcan up to ready position. Stay concentrated, Jack. And he really tried, but the idea that this being could do anything he wanted really frightened Jack. Even though Jack knew it was a dream, as we sometimes all know that it is a dream, we are still frightened, as was he. He was scared out of his wits. This supernatural being was more powerful, better trained and could do anything he wanted...and Jack was just...well Jack. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Jack, now you stop that this instant. This is a fight. He has a weapon. He's very dangerous. Get your head on straight. OK? Right? Ok. "Ok." He opened his eyes, and immediately met the concern in the clone's. "No...it's ok. I'm just a little tired." Jack regripped his trashcan... "Really."

"Uh huh." The clone responded, crooking an eyebrow at him. "Let's go." He concluded, and moved towards Valentine, starting a complex attack, the first few swings of which Valentine actually parried, and stood his ground, but then began to give back, as the clone's moves became faster, and the swings started cracking against his defenses. "Keep up, now." The clone grinned, putting feints and some spins into the swings of the trashcan.

"Augh." Jack grunted, frantically trying to keep his opponent's weapon from reaching him. "Let me guess." He panted, dropping to a knee to avoid a vicious swipe. "You're faster without the armor."

"Uh huh." The clone confirmed, getting inside Jack's defenses, and turning what would have been a stunning blow to the side into a gentle tap. "Be careful of what you think is, or isn't a handicap, Jack. Remember, I'm just trying to help you prepare for your match on Sabotage." He swiveled the can, and let it brush the side of his opponent's head. Saw the look in the hazel eyes facing her, and slowed his attack, then stopped. "Hey...you OK?" And just barely caught Valentine's trashcan as it moved with amazing speed towards his head. Catching it in one hand with a sharp smack. Feeling the anger rise, as he twisted the can out of Valentine's hand with startling ease. Taking a deep breath as he fought the anger back down. I told him to do that, right? This is a dream afterall...to test my reflexes? Stop overreacting.

"Close." He admitted, calming his anger down and forcing a grin.

Valentine sighed. "But never close enough. I'm always lucky like that...winning by barely getting a hand over Vampir or winning by DQ against Ryan Knox. I've got to prove to the world that I am determined to win that title this weekend. I've got to prove that I'm not a fluke...I've got to show everyone that I can win that title."

"That's great and all, but you can't even get a shot in on me."

"That's because we're not wrestlng...let's wrestle."

Hesitant. "I'm not really up for wrestling."

"Ah ha...just like the real Trashcan Man...you can use weapons, but when it comes to wrestling, you can't do jack...err...no pun intended. Let me tell you what mister...or whatever you are. This Sunday, in the ring, it will be all wrestling, and no "hardcore" rules. You will not be able to match my technical skills in the ring, and that's what this sport is all about, technicality."

"Not a wrestler? Would you care for me to describe some of my "wrestling" moves? I've got the Pyro Driver, the Dumpster Dive, the DDT, the Swinging Neckbreaker...the list goes on and on."

"Why are you talking like you are the Trashcan Man? You are a figment of my imagination, and you don't even look like that Trashcan Man...although you do look quite well for someone besides myself."

"Always arrogant, never abilified. I may not be the real Trashcan Man, but I am one of his magic helpers."

"What are you like a department store Santa Claus now? Except in a grungy, no good, pyromaniac kind of way?"

"OK, so I'm not the Trashcan Man.."

His trepidation has turned to anger. "That's right. You're not Trashcan Man. You are nothing but a no good, foul mouthed, wannabe!"

"I'm better than Trashcan Man you incompetent fool!"

The clone reaches his arms back and what looks to be a fireball comes shooting out of his hands. It catches the right arm of Jack and ignites. Jack, thinking he can overpower the beast fights back with words.

"You think this hurts me?!? This is my dream damnit. I dreamt this dream because I was feeling self-concious about stepping into the ring with someone like Trashcan Man, but now I realize that you and Trashcan Man are nothing but a bunch of losers."

The clone gains back its metallic covering and shrinks about six inches.

"That's right damnit. I am Jack Valentine...I beat Vampir Nosferatu, while I was lit on fire!" The fire disappears. "I beat Ryan Knox with the entire Greed Inc. faction down at ringside!" The clone shrinks again. "And I will beat Duke Williams and Tommy Christopher alongside Bob this Tuesday...so if you think you're going to be some kind of a threat, than think again wiseguy, because it's people like you who make everyone else feel better about themselves because they know that there is someone a little more disgusting, stupid, less well off than they are!"

The clone shrinks back down to its original trashcan form. Jack reaches over, with bloodshot eyes and a ravishing look on his face, and plummits the trashcan with rapid punches. He then sets the trashcan up in the middle of the ring and hits his pattonted bulldog manuever from the top rope in which he calls "The Heartbreaker." Jack continues to stomp on the supernatural can until it finally vanishes with a bright beam of light. That mysterious glaze comes back across the screen again and Jack is awoken by Christina.

"Son of a bitch!" Christina shakes him several times, before he finally awakes from the horrid dream.

"Jack...are you alright?" Christina exclaims as she tries to get him out of his daze.

"Where is he? Where is that god damn Trashcan Man?!?" Jack jumps out of his sleeping back in a rage. He pushes over the tent and searches down by the lake but cannot find Trashcan Man.

"Jack...it was all a dream...everything is fine now...don't worry."

"That was not a dream...that was a nightmare...that damn Trashcan Man thought he was better than me...NO ONE IS BETTER THAN ME!!!" Jack's face is now bright red in anger...this is a side of Jack that we have only seen once before, and that is when Vampir threatened to sacrifce Christina Livingston.

Christina rubs his back. "Jack, don't worry about it, it was all a bad dream. I'm sure you won't be so scared when you finally step in the ring with him."

"Scared? Scared? You think I'm scared? I'm about ready to rip his bloody head off! I don't know why this dream gave me so much anger towards Trashcan Man. I can't wait until we finally square off in that ring Sunday. After what he did to me with that trashcan, he will pay with his career."

"No one did anything to you Jack..."

"I know that was him...the guy is like a magician...he got inside my head somehow, and threatened my mental state...well all I've got to say is no way Jose! I am not letting him mess with my gray matter."

"I think you need some sleep Jack, you've had a long night, and you've got to rest up for your TLC match tomorrow night."

"TLC...TLC!! They were there too...those damn tables, ladders and chairs...they came to life I tell you...but I kicked the crap out of them...I showed them who's boss...just like I'll show Duke Williams and Tommy Christopher who's boss on Turmoil!"

Christina gets a concerned look for Jack and leads him back to the campground. She lays him back down in his sleeping bag. "Jack, go back to sleep...I think you've gone a little bit crazy thinking about all of these matches coming up."

Mumbling to himself. "I'll show them who's crazy...I will...I will...I will"

Christina lays Jack down in his bed as he continues his rambling about his dream. Jack finally falls asleep again, mumbling to himself about how he is going to put an end to Trashcan Man's career.

{-Conclusion-}

Has Jack lost his mind? What is the deal with this dream? Was it really a dream or was the last scene just a cover up for the "evil clone." Whatever it may be, Jack seems to have a new focus, a new outlook on his wrestling career. He is not just out to win matches anymore, he is out to prove to everyone why he deserves to be the champion. When he climbs into that ring with Duke and Tommy tomorrow on Turmoil, will that crazyness still be a factor? And what did he mean by saying he is going to end Trashcan Man's career? Tune into Turmoil and Sabotage to find out!