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Conflict didn't end up to be one of Mick Foleys brightest of nights, and to some extent he can only lay the blame onto himself because earlier on in the night, Foley interrupted Simon Dean with only one intention; to sign and seal a Singles Match-up for King Of The Ring, and that was achieved .. but NOT without having to pay a price. When Simon Dean tried to avoid confrontation but offering Mick a 30 day trial of his "Simon System", Mick pulled out a hard right hand, knocking Simon Dean down to the canvas .. however, that and the match proposal came back to cost Foley later that night when Simon Dean made his way down to the ring at a crucial moment in Micks match with Carlito Caribbean Cool. The Mandible Claw was locked in; Carlito was merely SECONDS away from tapping out .. but then, the interference on Simon Dean's behalf came into play, as he struck Foley over the head with an enormous tub of his "Simon System" thus leading the ending of the match to a No Contest. In approximately seven days time, Mick Foley and Simon Dean will square off at PWR's fourth Pay Per View; King Of The Ring. One has to ask themselves; If Foley happens to be defeated at the hands of Simon Dean, will it be the last time we'll ever see him in a ring? Then again - if Mick Foley picks up a victory, what'll be the next chapter in the 20 odd year career? The questions have been put forward. February 27th, answers will be supplied. Mick Foley. Simon Dean.. KING OF THE RING 2005! [[ Fade up PWR logo. ]] [[ The cameras begin rolling directly outside of Mick Foleys house in Long Island, New York. It's the typical family house that you dream of living in once you're older, with your wife and kids of course. Though, this is far from a dream for Mick Foley. It's reality - but I'm sure you've learnt that looks can be deceiving and more than likely, this is the exact same scenario. Nice house; looks welcoming with a family that'll live happily ever after. Right? Wrong. The heartache Collete and her two children have endured over the years would bring tears to any set of eyes you can find. The scene winds up in what appears to be the laundry, due to a basket full of clothes sitting on top of the washing machine. Next to that is a sink - but don't be fooled, because it's not one you'd dry your dishes in. It's one you attempt to dispose of those nasty stains. Mick Foley can be seen leaning up against the wall, staring blankly. ]] Mick Foley: To all of you, this is nothing more then a laundry. To me, this is where drops of tears have hit the floor .. one .. after the other. Though, understand this; the tears which have been shed in this very room haven't been of mine. No. They've been shed by Collette; my beautiful wife. Do any of you have an idea of how many times this has become the pit of tears for Collette? Do you? [[ Mick allows a moment of silence to drop by, as the tone in his voice can only be described as dead set frightening. ]] Mick Foley: Do any of you have a clue as to how many bloodied shirts Collette has had to drain? Do ANY of you know the amount of PAIN I've put her through? My beautiful wife .. I beg of your forgiveness, for the blood I bleed is purely .. for you. In the past, I shed my skin to satisify the needs of thousnads upon thousands of people I've never even met .. and I left my family, my wife and my kids high and dry. I left the most IMPORTANT part of my life hanging on the clothesline and ALL .. for people .. that mean absolutely nothing. Please forgive. Please. [[ Foley sniffles and lowers his head, as he clearly is ashamed of himself at the minute. ]] Mick Foley: Like any other human being, I've made mistakes .. but I stand before you today to CORRECT them. To set things STRAIGHT .. to once and for all, separate right from wrong and give something BACK to the most important piece of the puzzle from my life. My family. I've kept them in the shadows for too long, and what for? To hear twenty odd thousand chant my name at the top of their lungs? That's all. That's ALL it ever was, because it was NEVER about looking after my family and it DAMN sure was NEVER about looking after ME. It was about entertaining the fanatics of PAIN .. because that's what you people are. The mirror image of VAMPIRES, yet the only difference .. the ONLY difference, is that you didn't drop to your knees and SUCK the blood out from my veins. No, you didn't do that. What you did was MANIPULATE my heart and soul. You opened your arms to a lonely little boy, who knew nothing. NOTHING! He walked RIGHT into your trap, and you people took advantage. You cheered; not for who he is, but for what he DID. Every time blood trickled down my entire face, you CHEERED! YOU CLAPPED! YOU HAD GOD DAMN SMILES PLASTERED ACROSS YOUR FACES!! ... Because all it ever was about, was you. The people. You didn't CARE that two little boys who hadn't yet hit puberty were being struck with the fact that there Father may struggle to wrap his arms around them, let alone walk out ALIVE! That didn't bother you; not ONE single bit. You didn't CARE that a beautiful and caring wife had to watch every single SECOND of pain I went through. NONE OF YOU ever .. ever cared to think of the countless nights she'd cry herself to sleep. Nah - you didn't care .. as long as I was out putting my god damn LIFE on the line and filling bucket loads of blood .. you were content. (He Pauses) Not .. Any .. More. You've seen the LAST of those days because a NEW chapter, a NEW era has begun .. an era which won't ever see another saturated pillow again. [[ The intensity of Mick Foley sends off an immensely strong vibe as he slowly takes cautious steps towards the "sink" which is used for draining the stains out. Foley suddenly stands still on the spot, only a meter or less away from the sink. A few seconds pass by; silence. No movement whatsoever. He stares blankly once again, almost in a world of his own. ]] Mick Foley: Picture it in your mind, Simon. What if .. what if it was YOUR wife, soaking YOUR bloodied shirt in clear water .. which was soon translated .. to RED water. What if you were in MY shoes, Simon? Would you be making this out to be A joke? To be a game? Would you, Simon? No, but the truth is you AREN'T in my shoes. You haven't even gone through a GLIMPSE of what I have, yet you have the nerve to turn around and tell me that I'm nothing but an overweight pile of excrement? Oh, I beg to differ .. because you've been doing this crap for under a year. Me? I've been bustin' my god damn gut for TWENTY odd years. I've seen it all and I've been THROUGH it all. The pain I've taken is beyond your belief, beyond ANY mans belief .. and for you to come in and to make a mockery .. it ignites a fire deep down inside, one that can't and won't be blown out. God may've built Mrs. Foleys Baby Boy with love handles, but by god .. should you choose to wake up to your senses, you'll come to terms with reality. I don't NEED a body like Arnold Schwarzenegger .. I don't NEED to have buldging muscles because I have a mind which is capable of anything. I've explored heights of prosfessional wrestling that this industry never knew existed, and I am NOT afraid .. to take YOU, Simon .. and make you bleed like two slit wrists, thus shifting the agony onto YOU and YOUR family. [[ A few more seconds tick by, as a mean expression becomes clearer across Foleys face. ]] Mick Foley: Lets seee how you handle it when you're the one left out in the hot sun to die for. Let's see if you can SURVIVE the torment .. and the BRUTALITY .. of a sick and twisted mind. Will your family cope with having to drain the blood out of your clothes, Simon? [[ Micks face quickly changes to a sadistic smirk as he begins whispering into the camera. ]] Mick Foley: I think not. Under-estimating me is your biggest mistake .. a costly mistake .. one that you'll never be given the chance to redeem yourself of. [[ The scene slowly darkens before fading out to the PWR Logo. ]] [[ The PWR logo fades up onto the screen once again as the scene winds up outside the front of your typical redneck bar. Everything in which you picture a redneck bar to be, is right in front of our eyes. Barrels. Empty beer bottles. You name it; it's there. Our camera swings into the interior design of the bar where we're able to pick up clear signals that finding a vintage redneck bar is no longer on our radar. Pool tables; bikers, and of course straight out clean cut rednecks - all of whom are downing some type of substance. Mick Foley can be identified sitting at the bar alone, tapping his empty glass on the bench with another blank stare in command; a depressive stare, so to speak. ]] Voice: Another apple juice there for ya' Mick? It's on the house. Mick Foley: It can't hurt. [[ The bartender pulls out a bottle of apple juice and pours it all in at once into Mick Foleys glass. It almost overflows; infact, drops of it begin to trickle down the glass as Mick carefully takes a sip. The bartender stands still, noticing that something's wrong. ]] Bartender: Everythin' alright there Mick? Mick Foley: I'll be fine .. It's just after doing this business for such a long period of time .. you'd think .. that these new blooded kids that are constantly being brought through the caper, would have some respect for a guy like me. You'd think that after ALL I've done, they'd have the decency to show me respect .. but then again .. This is and will always be a cruel world, and not rewarding for the hard working .... Instead, rewarding for the man who takes advantage of the boss by taking his daughter out to lunch, slowly translating that into regular dinner dates. It's a cruel, cruel world .. and that's something that will never change because the truth is - you can work your ass off every single solitary night of your LIFE .. AND STILL notbe recognized by a god damn SOUL! Bartender: Don't let that get ya' down .. Kids these days know nothin', boy. They only THINK they know everythin', but one'a these days ..whether that be tomorrowa, the day after that or even in a years time .. they're gonna cop it, and they're gonna learn their lesson the hard way Mick. Don't ya' worry about that son. [[ Foley nods, but obviously isn't convinced by the bartenders words as the depression can still be spotted from a mile away. All of a sudden, a males figure takes a seat next to Mick and slaps him across the back gently. He turns his head to the side; It's .. What? Terry Funk!? Funk glances down at Foleys drink and then back up at the bartender. ]] Terry Funk: I'll have whatever he's having, Jimmy. Bartender: Umm .. Terry .. That's apple juice. [[ A brief moment of silence hits us, as we're left to the image of Funk contemplating. ]] Terry Funk: Ya know what? Make it a Jack Daniels. [[ The Bartender quickly attends to his services, leaving Terry Funk to turn to his side and witness the sight of a down and out Mick Foley, which he picks up on instantly. ]] Terry Funk: Chin up, Mick. Didn't ya' mother ever teach ya' that? Mick Foley: Why play the game which leads you to failure every time, Terry? Why bother? By holding my chin up, am I doing myself any favours? Am I? Terry Funk: It separates the strong from the weak, Mick. You know that. Have ya' forgotten about Japan? About the amount of COURAGE and bravery ya' had to have to even SURVIVE? Mick Foley: Oh no, no Terry. I have forgotten. God won't allow me to forget, because Japan, ECW, WWF - It's ALL stayed stuck in my mind, trapped .. with no where to run .. and to where to hide. There IS no escpaing the past, but we do however hold the key to the future .. and I intend to change one or two things for the better. [[ Terry appears to be somewhat saddended. ]] Terry Funk: What do ya' want to change Mick? What CAN ya' change? Compared to the professional wrestling world, you're a veteran now. An old man. An old, overweight man with NOTHING left in the gas tank. Ya hear me, Mick? Mick Foley: I've never had the figure of the perfect World's Champion, Terry. I never have and I never will, because being short and pudgy was what made ME! It's what MADE Mick Foley who he is today, because it differs me from the rest .. It sets me apart from the ordinary, and it lists me under a category where I contend with not another living soul. I was BORN different .. and still to this very day, I'm different .. It's always been that way, and that took time to adjust but god dammnit Terry .. I've PAID my dues. I've EARNT my respect, and when punks like Simon Dean flash their tale around like they've held a million Titles it PISSES me OFF! Twenty odd YEARS I've been in the business, and for what? For what, Terry? Terry Funk: You did this all for ya'self, Mick. Nobody else. This business developed you into a ROCK SOLID human being. You didn't HAVE a choice, because had you not of put ya'self through this torture we call professional wresslin' .. then you'd STILL be the boy who got picked on and did nothin' about it. But not anymore. Ya turned ya life aroun', Mick .. and you owe it all to this business .. to every drop of sweat .. DON'T piss that all down the drain for sum' bastard who's only just learned to wipe his own ass. [[ Terry Funk pats Mick on the back before getting up out of his seat and walking into the distance. The camera returns to Foley, whose clearly playing over the last few words of Funk over in his head. The Bartender watches on with a glass full of Jack Daniels in hand. ]] Bartender: I take it he doesn't want his drink, aint it? .... I'll leave ya to it Mick. [[ The Bartender walks away thus leaving Mick Foley to himself, staring straight into the practically full glass of Apple Juice that he's barely touched. ]] Mick Foley: Simon, you're a boy. A little, innocent boy standing in the middle of a mans battlefield. I'll give you a chance to run along, to save yourself from devastation. I've experienced pain in places you never knew you even had; I've filled buckets of blood quicker then you've lost pounds. You've NO idea the size of your mistake, but should you continue with your stupidity then this Sunday .. at King Of The Ring .. you're gonna witness first hand why you should of listened. Why you should of backed out while you still had a chance .. because I'll tell you right now, Simon. If you DO turn up to King Of The Ring then I will turn February 27th into a night you'll NEVER forget .. into a night which will constantly come back to haunt you in your dreams, each and every time you close your eyes and lay your head down to sleep. According to you and your sources, I'm the image of obesity .. the FAT man .. but from my perspective, I like to think of myself as a big, cuddly teddy bear. I'm warm, I'm caring and I'm tender .. but I need not to remind you of such damage that I can cause. Simon Dean - It's decision time. It all rests in your hands. The BALL is in YOUR court, Simon. What's your first move? [[ Mick Foley grins satisifed for the first time in this broadcast, as he swings around on his seat to be positioned head on with the camera. ]] Mick Foley: I'm knocking on your door lightly Simon. Make the wrong choice, and I won't hesitate in KICKING down your door and beating you to a bloody pulp, leaving you with not even a glimmer of hope of lasting another day. I'm a father, I'm a husband .. but Simon .. don't under-estimate me .. because I'm more then capable of becoming your WORST nightmare. [[ Static. ]] [[ Fade to black. ]]
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