As the countdown begins to TnT Mayhem, coming from Cleveland, Ohio, many questions are being asked. Such questions as what will happen in the main event as two stable mates are pit against each other. But this week, another mind pondering question sticks in the mind of all fans of TnT Wrestling. It drives them insane as they ponder what the answer could be, and it's a large debate which is being held all across the world.

Who is this new Nicky Mills?

People are anticipating the arrival of the so called 'new Mills'. Seen in a last promo, it looked as if Nicky had contracted a split personality disorder, which his other side which have been seen in the infamous assault on Jeremy Cundiff which saw Jeremy get a concussion as a result. This side was also rumoured to be seen when Thunder's wife, Erica' was kidnapped and held ransom for a match.

What will this new Mills bring to the table? Only one way to find out, and that's tune in as always to TnT Wrestling, the home of true professional wrestling.

As the morning sun rises from its sleep, and the sound of roaring vehicles echo across the blue lit sky, the camera is looking at the TnT Headquarters in Chicago from a first person view, as the camera then switches to the reception area of the headquarters, where people are coming in and out, mostly business executives. The area looks to have been refurbished recently as the camera looks at a man, who is wearing a full black tuxedo and carrying a large black suitcase, walks straight up to the receptionist and hands over papers to the shocked receptionist, who is a slim figurine with brown hair and a pair of sparking blue eyes, calmly addresses the man.

May I help you, sir?

I wish to see Kent Strong immediately!

Sorry sir, but you will have to wait your turn. It's policy that you...HEY WAIT!

The man walks straight past the receptionist desk and walks to one of the lifts, where he quickly steps onto it. Pressing the button to the tenth floor, he waits impatiently for the lift to arrive at it's destination. As it arrives, he power walks and walking to a door at the end of the hallway and opens it with a roaring push.

Yes, well I believe that.....Hey! You cant come barging in here like that!

The man sitting in the large office area is TnT owner Kent Strong, who is speaking through a hand free telephone, as he eyes the man up and down intensely, and then continues his phone call.

I'm sorry. I'm going to have to call you back.

He presses the hang up button and turning to the man who interrupted him, speaks in a rather cold tone.

This had better be good, because if it's not, I'll have you arrested for trespassing.

What kindness. Anyway, my name is Thomas Walters, and I am an attorney  for one of your wrestlers, Nicky Mills.

This is about you walking in and berating the TnT Scorecard host, am I right?

No, this is a different matter altogether. My client wishes to have the right to wrestle on other cards. As you know, he had an agreement with Marcel that he could wrestle on other shows on a regular basis.

Say what?!

Yes, Marcel has let my client wrestle in the United Wrestling Alliance, but I know that your into loyalty, and my client will always show that to this company. But he wishes to make some more money wrestling on a few other companies shows and Pay Per Views.

Is this some sort of joke? Nicky is not loyal! He has turned his back on both companies several times because he wants more money. And at the moment, he doesn't feel he has been treated right. But he is an asset to TnT Wrestling, and I have to keep all the superstars I can.

Your paying him too much for him to walk away, but you have to understand that as he is a popular asset, he must be used correctly. And he wishes to wrestle more on a regular basis.

I'll think about it. Now if you excuse me....I have some work to attend to.

The two men shake hands and the attorney of Nicky Mills walks out of the office as the scene slowly fades to black.

What is mercy? What is remorse?

They are emotions that you feel. You feel mercy when someone is begging for their life. You feel mercy when someone you hate is being beaten to a pulp in front of you half to death, and feeling mercy makes you want to help that person, even if it is someone you do not like.

You feel remorse in lots of situations. Situations where you feel bad for that person, you feel sorrow. If you have killed someone and you feel terrible for your actions, you feel remorse. If you have done something terrible to someone, and you sit and cry because what you have done is wrong, that is remorse.

I feel no such emotions.

This is a world of survival. You live to survive. Your not put on this earth to have families. They are mere bonuses along the way as you live every day of your life surviving. The guide to life is to leave a mark for you to be remembered by. Good or Evil, you are nothing if you live to be happy. We were created to live and survive, and yet people believe that their mission in life is to live it. Somewhere along the way, you will die. It may be today, or tomorrow, or sometime later. When you do, that is your life, that is your mark.

My theory is to do whatever is possible to be remembered. Murderers like Charles Manson have made their mark in life, and forever his name will be uttered  by all that continue to live. Martin Luther King shall be remembered for bringing the black people to their rightful positions, or so they say.

Now the time for my remembrance has begun.

12.34AM, and we are in the Toronto Marriot hotel where one of the TnT wrestlers is currently staying in the suite. As the camera slowly enters the suite, the television speakers are blaring out a Rollin Thunder promo, and a man is sitting on the large black leather couch with a disgusted look on his face. He throws the remote against the television, and shakes his head as he see's the camera, and sighs.

Ugh. Every goddamn time he opens his mouth, the crap he spews is worse and worse.

He is one of God's creatures, and something we must destroy. He has something we want, and we shall have it very soon, for he is a pawn living in a kings world. Men like us have been held back, and now we must strike back against this situation. We are here to make an impact, and so far, you have done nothing but rant on about doing so.

Fuck you. Your part of me! You think your going to take over me, but I've let you speak your mind several times, and you just blabber on about destruction. WE are one, not two.

But does anybody take you seriously?

They will do when I take out the new member of the High Rollers. Lyricz, the wannabe rapper, AKA Sean Boyle, AKA a fucking chimp wanting to be an ape like his two buddies, Derek and that idiot, Vetalo.

You cannot do that by yourself, however. You need me to help you.

Excuse me? I am the one with the achievements, not you.

What? What achievements? Please, tell me what you have done. You haven't even gotten a World title shot! Your being considered for one because of me, because people want to see me take apart their World champion. Not you, not this boring ranting idiot I've had to endure. You may have Hollywood achievements, but what do they do? Nothing. Your a wrestler, and your job is to wrestle and win, and so far, you haven't done that. But you will, and do you know why?

I guess your going to tell me now, right?

Nicky, all your life, people have laughed at you. Do you even remember your parents?

No.

You were nothing. From the day you were born, you were already born to be rejected. You had no past.

Yes I did. I was born in Wales, and from there, I travelled to Canada to train with Stu Hart.

And yet you don't remember your child-hood? You don't remember a thing. But that is not the point. You were born to be hated because you were different. You were the kid at the back of the class. You were the kid who liked his own company. I am the rage, I am the hate, that you have built up for everyone that has let you down in your life. Wrestlers who haven't taken you seriously. You couldn't do it on your own, and I helped you succeed.

Give me a break. I did all the work!

Right, but what do you have to show for it? Wrestling skills? They wont count. You need that championship belt. You need to be feared by the other guys who say "Mills is a joke". I am that guide to your path to gold. I am that guide to destruction. This is more than gold, this is about you. Your not considered one of the elite wrestlers, while guys who havent done a proper days work in their miserable measly lives get all the attention. Guys like X Kalibur, who talked his way to success, Rollin Thunder, Jimmy Vetalo. They're achieving more than you, and your better than those guys.

But why do I need you?

I am that desire. I am that hate, that you posess, for America, for the wrongs people have done to you. Once me and you finally beat down that worthless maggot, Sean Boyle, people will see that, and then they will look at us in a different light. Do you want to be the champion? Do you want to be number one?

I will be once I get that title shot.

No man will stand a chance once me and you show ourselves on Mayhem. And you, camera, I'm bored of being stared at by an average ant. Get rid of him!

Get the fuck out of here, before I beat the the shit out of you!

The camera slowly moves itself from the room at the command of Mills, as the scene slowly fades to black.

Just after the camera has switched off, a buzzer is heard across the apartment, as Mills gets up from the leather sofa and opens the door to see a man with a Marriot uniform, holding a white envelope  in his hand. Nicky looks at him before snatching the envelope off him without any words, and slamming the door in the mans face. The envelope reads:

Nicky Mills

What the hell is this?

Take a look and find out. It isnt fan mail, that's for sure.

Nicky walks over to the leather couch where he was sitting and pressing the power buttom on the blaring television, switches it off. Mills then rips open the envelope as a folded up piece of paper falls down to the ground. Unfolding the letter, he begins reading it to himself, and it reads:

You sir, are in need of a little assistance. Why must it always be the same
thing with you Nicky? Why does it always boil down to TALK with you. Random
chit-chat that amounts to nothing. I was told you had become crazy. I was told
that you, Mr. Mills, had snapped, lost it completely.

 But how is anyone to know, Mr. Mills? Should people be scared of you sitting in
a dark room talking to a man paid to be scared of wrestlers? Nicky, listen, if
he was scared of a man that had completely lost it, why would he have gone in
to find you? You didn't scare him enough, dammit! He's not frightened! Nobody is
frightened!

 I have been down your path Mills. I can help illuminate the way for you.
However, you must abide but what I tell you. You must listen, you must take it
in, and then, you must act upon it. Something you have failed to do for your
existence. Are you crazy, Mr. Mills? Have you really lost it? Prove it. Scare
them, Mr. Mills. Show them.

Nicky has a look of interest on his face, as he reads the letter over again, and then smiles.

What a suggestion! The Americans will believe it's terrorists. This person is questioning us. If this man wants proof that I am real, then we shall do as he says.

Why the hell should I blow up a bus? I'm not stupid.

But what is there to lose? Nobody will ever suspect us!

I'm not going on death row. Are you out of your mind?

SILENCE! All you do is run your mouth and say your going to do things. What happened when Cundiff beat you at July Jamboree? You were beaten yourself. What happened when you guaranteed you were going to win the Eurasian title, and you guaranteed it? NOTHING! You lost. Nobody takes you seriously, and this is the first step. Prove to yourself, and prove to America, that you are a threat to their society.

After a long pause with no sound, Nicky lifts his head up with an evil smirk on his face, and walks out of the suite as he walks off out of sight.

Hours Later

Outside the Skydome in Toronto, people are walking in and out of the arena entrance, and people are going about their daily routines. Slowly, a bus pulls up outside the arena, and stops, when suddenly the bus is no more, as it explodes in a large ball of fire. The bus is now burning, as screams for help are heard, and people are running away for their lives. Nobody has survived the explosion, as sirens are heard pulling up to the building. The screams of panic echo across as smoke is pouring over the burning wreckage.