[It�s the middle of the afternoon on a brisk November Evening in mid-town Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The entire city is a bustle with the sounds of evening traffic; mothers trying to get back and forth from errands, fathers trying to get out of doing the errands in time to catch the big game and the children of both screaming for more attention, more toys, more this and more that. The noise of cars honking, engines roaring, the aforementioned screaming, dogs barking and the general movement of people would be enough to keep anybody from thinking with a clear head. Well, almost everyone.]

[The camera fades in to show a single street in mid-town Milwaukee, it could have been any street on the planet for the scene was always the same. A few kids playing, a few pieces of trash lining the curb and the noticeable buildings in view; drugstore, apartment complex, general store, an old-fashioned pizza place that was probably family-owned, an old church that had withstood the test of time and all this across from a park in which more kids were seen playing on the old wooden playground equipment that so many kids had grown up knowing.]

[It could have been any street in any suburban neighborhood anywhere on the planet. But it wasn�t, this place was different and one man made it so. He chose to walk on this street and he chose to do it for a reason.]

[The camera pans around to show a man making his way across the street corner, amidst the passing cars, as if he simply didn�t care about the two-thousand pound vehicles barreling across and around him from all sides. He didn�t flinch nor did he make any move that showed he cared about the furious honking that was directed towards him. He simply kept walking as his long black trench coat billowed up slightly behind him, making his entire frame seem all the more haunting and out-of-the-ordinary for a place such as this street.]

[He was recognizable to a select group, not a small group, but a select group nonetheless. His attire was dark, normal for him but not what was normally seen around these parts. The trench coat itself, the black hiking boots, the black jeans, black muscle shirt, black wrap around sunglasses, a one-of-a-kind black Rolex and two golden chains that draped across his neck. His black hair was styled and matched perfectly with the five-o�clock shadow across his jaw, which was always emotionless to the outside world. He was, is, a champion. He is the Platinum Champion, of Sin Wrestling�Slash Tannon.]

[As he continued his walk down the sidewalk he began to speak, almost in a conversational tone, and while it may have looked strange to those viewing it not a single person he passed showed any signs of seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary.]

�Every man is entitled to his good weeks and his bad weeks. A good week was when I won my Platinum title, which I may add I have the longest reign with it now, and I'll be damned if it leaves anytime soon. A good week is when I successfully defend it and defeat the fly that tried so desperately to thwart me of it. A good week is when the Alliance Of Violence shows to all the peasants in sin Wrestling what we're all about, success and violence! A bad week is when the breakfast I order tastes like shit. a bad week is when I have to face the same person more than once just to prove I'm better. A bad week is when second rate groups like Sadistic, The Apex Division, DyCo, or Sentinels of Insanity stuff their good for nothing noses where it doesnt belong and think they can run with the likes of myself, Mike Phantasy or...uh....Johnny Legend. A bad week is when you lose.�

[His pace slows to a simple stroll as he nods, as if hearing his words along with the rest of the world and realizing the questions that they must have.]

�Now I understand that as a wrestler a loss is a very serious thing. It makes you question if perhaps you didn�t give it your all or if there was a moment in the match where a simple error on your part destined you to lose. In my career it takes a hell of an effort on the part of my opponents to put a notch in my �loss� column. Only one person, ONE in Sin has beat me one on one and that was only Sean James, luckily. He got his the next time though. That was my only clean loss so far, the other two all involved more than one person, you beat me one on one or you don't simple! No one on my best day or worst will ever accomplish that feat, not even Draco.�

[He stops in front of a boy, no older than twelve, selling the day�s edition of the Chicago Tribune.]

�How much for a paper?�

[He asks as he reaches into his trench coat, pulling out his black wallet.]

�One dollar sir, one dollar for a paper or you can buy a subscription.�

[The boy says, a look of boredom across his face from hours spent standing at the same corner and saying the same lines to every person that passes his way. Tannon takes out a $1 bill from his wallet, replacing the billfold back into his coat and handing the boy the dollar.]

�I�ll just take a single paper for now."

[Tannon says as the boy pockets the dollar and hands him an issue of the day�s news. Tannon nods his thanks to the boy, taking his paper and continuing his walk down the trash-covered city street as he flips through the paper until the sports page is in the front. He turns the sports section over so that the page 10C was shown. It was the basic sports section, a quick overview of all the sports that are not as heavily interesting to people as the hockey, basketball, football, baseball and other sports. Tannon eyes the section and notices a piece on Sin Wrestling and their plans to hold a PPV at the Bradley Center.]

�Sin Wrestling, presents Night Of The Living Sin. Sunday November 28th, 2004. On this night, a one night tournament entitled the Sin Trophy Tournament, will determine a number one contender to face Tony Millenia for the Sin Wrestling World Title. 8 names remain, Hardcore Timmay, Gwenivere Jordan, Casanova, Zimdela Brudon, Sid, Jamie "Kodiak" Heck, Drace and Slash Tannon, one of these wrestlers will have their ticket to a shot a glory....or A Night Of Living Sin.�

[Tannon says, reading the first paragraph off of the paper aloud. He cannot help but shake his head and smirk as he closes the paper and continues down the sidewalk.]

�I am facing Draco.�

[He says as he comes to a large brick wall between the pizza place and the Church, pausing and leaning against the wall with his hands in his coat pockets. He watches as the people pass him in their cars and on foot, speaking to the camera and to all those watching him.]

�Draco�one of the four infidels of the Sentinels of Insanity. Apocalypse remains next for me and by the end of Night Of The Living Sin this Sunday he too shall be a broken fool on his way to the emergency room, and realize he should never face me again. My place in Sin Wrestling is that of its champion, the man atop its mountain and the man in possession of what all others on this roster strive to achieve. I will really enjoy ruining your life, and it has become a habit and ritual for me. When you arrive at the arena Draco and the moment arrives when you are standing behind that curtain and ready to run out to the ring I want you to do something. When you are faced with that moment, that moment before a match when all wrestlers have the nerves going, the blood flowing and the adrenaline rushing I would like you to picture me, my face; I want you to picture me sad, hurt, angry, and bloody. I want you to picture me this way so that you can at least have that memory with you. I want that because after the match all you will see through ugly eyes that go across your face shall be the look of joy in my eyes as my hand is raised in the air in victory. You are nothing Draco; I am beyond you, above you and superior to you in every way. This Sunday I will walk down that aisle and break you. It will be business and nothing more. You give me no challenge and no reason think you can go head to head in my ring.�

[He stops speaking and moves away from the wall and motions for the camera not to follow. He speaks as he walks away.]

�This was a waste of my time Draco�give me a challenge. Give me a challenge or get out of my ring.�

[He continues to walk down the street, his coat billowing behind him as the camera slowly fades away to black, then static and finally�nothing.]

Are You Ready? For TOTAL IMPACT!!!