-|- There is a misty haze that has fallen over London as morning hues begin to paint the British sky. A sea gull flies by, and makes that terrible whining noise to give us a clue that we are near the waterfront but we still aren�t sure of the exact location. The gfwa OMEGA camera crew was called in early this morning by the Commissioner to this location but no signs of The Butcher have been found as of yet. An hour has passed and the camera man feels like leaving and gets ready to put his equipment away. He stops though, for a silver rusty old junker of a car putts its way towards the area. We see that The Butcher is behind the wheel with that confident, serious face of his. The car makes its way to the camera man and he begins to take footage. The car slowly comes to a stop on the ancient gravel and The Butcher gets out. He closes his eyes and breathes in the air. This recalls of old Butcher lore. A legacy that was created over 20 years in the making. Blood, sweat, and tears. Experience that would make old men cringe and ascertain from. The Butcher then exhales and makes his way to the back of the car. He takes out the keys of his old-time black leather jacket. He looks into the camera and shakes the keys with a smile. He�s enjoying this all too much because it brings back memories. He searches through a few keys, finds the correct one, and places it in the lock. With one swift turn the rusty trunk pops open and reveals something from the GFWA Hardcore Legend�s past. He�s loves it. GFWA fans love it. His opponents do not. Inside the trunk of the car is the infamous Bag of Goodies! -|-
The Butcher: Beautiful isn�t she?
-|- The Butcher unzips the aging and torn leather duffel bag to uncover the contents. There is nothing in the bag though and you wonder why. The Bag of Goodies and it�s various contents are famous in wrestling history but there isn�t anything in there this time. -|-
The Butcher: What? You thought I would dare reveal what is in my bag? I never tell anyone what�s in the bag. It�s none of their business. But it does become their business when I�m in the ring as I�m sure most of you know.
-|- The Butcher laughs as he takes the bag out and places it over his right shoulder and head. -|-
The Butcher: Frostie, you say that you want to be like me and win the World Championship just like I did. You want to be the underdog and win it all. Hell, you even think you�re hardcore enough to take my pink vibrator!
-|- The Butcher smiles and laughs again. Everyone knows Frostie�s fate and life is in the hands of The Butcher now. -|-
The Butcher: So you want to be like me? You think your hardcore enough? *makes his voice sound like Frostie�s going through puberty* But Mr. Butcher, this isn�t a hardcore match and what is the Bag of Goodies anyway? *normal voice again* I see you failed to look at my history and what the Bag of Goodies is all about, but I will teach you it�s origin in a moment. You�ll just have to wait until global TV to learn what it is REALLY about.
-|- The Butcher laughs devilishly. -|-
The Butcher: Now, poor, poor Frostie, this IS a hardcore match and you would know that if you really wanted to be like me. ALL of my matches are hardcore. They ALL go to the extreme. Have you seen photos of what my body looks like under all of these clothes? Get that sick thought out of your mind you pervert! I�m talking about the scars, the burns, and the bruises that never go away. Those are my trophies and titles. You will learn this Sunday that you can take away my pink vibrator but you can NEVER steal my identity!
-|- The Butcher begins to walk towards an ally just a few feet away. He signals for us to follow and we do without a second thought. The ally is dark and smells of garbage. Leaning against one of the building is a rather large refuse dumpster. The building is a small English version of a dollar store and just our luck it had a closing sale. Not many people stopped in to buy any of the junk so the owner decided to throw everything out. The Butcher takes off the Bag of Goodies and lays it on the ground. -|-
The Butcher: Frostie, I am a complex man and with the size of your brain, you�ll never totally understand who I really am. Don�t worry about that though, not many people really do understand me. Damn, now I have two reasons why you�ll never be me. You lack the scars and the brains! Man, I�m good. *Goes to the Frostie voice again* But how can a man that walks around with a vibrator be smart? *Normal again* You fail to understand the TRUE power of the pink vibrator, but I�ll tell you about that next time.
-|- The Butcher hoists himself into the refuse dumpster and starts to walk around in the trash. He looks up with that classic, diabolical smile of his. -|-
The Butcher: So you want to pick through trash? Well, that�s what I do! Welcome to my neighborhood, Frostie, be my neighbor! Damn, I feel like Mr. Rogers. I have a little story for you and I hope you�ll really pay attention to it. It�s a story about the Bag of Goodies and it�s origin. I know, you really don�t want to hear it but try to ignore your ADD distractions. The year was 1989. Yes, I know, a tad bit old for you, my friend. It was early December in New York City and there was a hell of a snowstorm the night before. I went out that morning to see a friend of mine and see how he was doing. It had to of been 10 degrees below that day and the wind was vicious so I feared for my friend. His name was Mr. Sloan. He was homeless and lived in the ally behind the old spaghetti warehouse on West 85th Street. He was a kind old man and a little coo coo in the head but I liked him nonetheless. He grew up in poverty all of his life and knew no better. When I saw him that morning digging through the garbage, looking for anything to end his hunger, I felt sorry for him. Once in a while I would give him some money but he always insisted in not taking it because times were hard on me too. See, Mr. Sloan didn�t want to live life any other way. He wanted no one�s help financially because money meant nothing to him. Just surviving from day to day was good enough for him. He was a smart man though and didn�t walk around with that stupid shopping cart that most homeless people do. He walked around with a duffel bag that he found in the trash one day. Like they always say: one man�s trash is another man�s treasure. Well, he walked around with the duffel bag and filled it up with stuff that he found everyday and brought it home. He called that bag his Bag of Goodies. I always laughed when he would call it that. Anyway, as we walked down the street talking, a thug ran out of one of the area�s stores with a gun in his hand and a bag full goodies that he stole from the store. As the police arrived the thug started to shoot while he ran away. One of the stray bullets shot Mr. Sloan. As he laid in the snow, that was turning crimson from his blood, he handed me the duffel bag and said �thank you�. I took the bag as my tears began to freeze on my face and Mr. Sloan passed on to a better place. He gave me his only possession as a thanks for being so nice to him for so many years. He knew he was going to die and he didn�t try to fight it fore he knew his time here was over.
-|- The Butcher points to the Bag of Goodies. -|-
The Butcher: That right there is Mr. Sloan�s bag of goodies. I�ve kept it for so long and put it to good use like Mr. Sloan did. Every time I plan to use it in a match I dig through the trash looking for my treasure and my opponent�s pain. The Bag of Goodies contained anything and everything I used to win my matches. From Brittany Spears posters to old pots and pans.
-|- The Butcher starts to kick around some of the trash in hopes to find a future weapon. -|-
The Butcher: See, Frostie, you�ll never know what I�m going to bring until it gets violently smashed into your skull. This week�s global TV is called Grand Exodus. Your exodus and my exodus. My exodus because I�ve been laid back as of late but now that has exited my thoughts for this match. Your exodus because you�re going to be leaving on a stretcher. Shit is going to hit the fan, Frostie, and you�ll truly understand why you really want to be me. I will leave with my arms raised high in the air and you will leave in a pool of your own blood. All 5,000 people in attendance will be glad to see me kick your ass and take back what is truly mine and you will regret messing with me. I�m not a destructive man in society but when I get in the ring, it�s like a different personality sets in. You wanted this and you�re going to get what you wanted and just handing over the pink vibrator won�t make me stop hurting you. You�ll understand why they call me the Extreme Legend and I will leave a scar on your body so you will have a story of your own to tell the old folks. Well, I�m done wasting everyone�s time. Have a good night sleeping, Frostie, I know I won�t due to anticipation.
-|- The scene fades to black as The Butcher begins to dig full force in the trash to find a perfect weapons for Frostie. -|-
