The rebirth . . .

[AWA CEO: Mr. Timothy Draven]

*A limo pulls up outside the AWA arena in Albany New York. The door opens and out steps Mr. Draven and his son, Nicholas Jacob Draven. They look at the huge building standing in front of them. Mr. Draven reaches in his pocket and pulls out his keys. They walk up to the door and unlock the door. Mr. Draven opens the doors and takes a deep breath in . . . *


Mr. Draven: Ahh, still smells like home. Nicholas, the doors are opened. I’ll be in my office getting things cleaned up and taken care of. You make a few phone calls and let everyone know the deal. All are welcomed for this one last show . . . but they’re only getting paid based on the amount they put forth. I refuse to lose my money on people who “want” to wrestle, but then never show up. If you need me, I’ll be in my office.


*Mr. Draven walks off as Nicholas reaches inside his jacket pocket and pulls out his cell phone. He flips it open and begins to make calls.*


(Anyone can take it from here)[/b]

["The Aussie Icon" Croc]

(The camera shows Timmy Draven walking up to his office. The sign on the door brandishing his name has been vandalized with the word “Fag” written over it. Draven shakes his head and rips down the sign. He goes to unlock the office door when he turns the door knob and realises his office is unlocked. A puzzled looks comes over Draven’s face but he shrugs and opens the door. Any glimpse of a smile that was on Draven’s face is gone as he looks into his office.)


(DRAVEN)
What the hell do you want?


(The camera pans into his office and sees the legendary Aussie Icon sitting at Timmy Draven’s desk.)


(CROC)
Do you know how long I have been waiting here?


(Draven rolls his eyes)


(DRAVEN)
Well you’re going to tell me anyway. How long have you been here?


(CROC)
Twenty minutes. That is just not acceptable Tommy!


(DRAVEN)
My name is not Tommy.


(Croc shrugs)


(DRAVEN)
How did you even manage to break in here?


(Croc, who had his feet on the desk, drops them to the floor)


(CROC)
Look my lawyer told me not to admit to anything anymore or else I am not going to be let back into the country. Those cops at the airports have no humour what so ever.


(Draven shakes his head in disbelief)


(DRAVEN)
Going back to my original question Croc… What do you want?


(Croc gets up from the seat and stands behind the desk)


(CROC)
Rumour has it that you are having a final AWA show. Now I am sure my personal request from you was only seconds away, but I will save you the trouble… One half of your main event is already sorted.


(Croc walks around the desk and comes face to face with his greatest rivals)


(CROC)
And the second rumour I heard was that you were to much of a pussy to enter the ring again, I assume my plan of finally killing you off will also be placed in your wife’s handbag right next to your testicles.


(Draven and Croc glare at each other)


(CROC)
Speaking of your wife… What wife number are you up to now? She must be the fourth or fifth!


(Croc smirks as Draven does not say anything just glaring at Croc)


(CROC)
And rumour mill has it that your last two wives have kept it in the AWA family. Didn’t one of them leave you after she f**ked Sheldon Reese? Or was it that one of them is now f**king Anthony Jordan?


(Croc laughs. The look on Draven’s face indicates he is about to snap)


(DRAVEN)
I will ask one last time. What do you want Croc?


(CROC)
Settle down Tommy… I was only joking when I said I wanted to fight you. I actually want to be a part of a main event people will want to watch and seeing as though I crushed you so many times people would just think it was a sure thing I would do it again.


(Croc shows of his signature smug smirk)


(CROC)
If I am going to appear in the AWA for one last time, I want to settle a score I should have settled a long, long time ago.


(Croc moves up closer to Draven. Croc and Draven are almost nose to nose)


(CROC)
I want to end one man and that man is Ripper!!!


(Croc snarls as he takes a step back from Draven)


(CROC)
Ripper has been in a pain in my ass for years. For years he kept on riding my coat tails and making annoying, unfunny and stupid ‘one liners’. No one cares if he thinks I have a gay hair-cut or not. All people care about is that I am the best the AWA has ever seen and that chump couldn’t even beat a washed up alcoholic to win a World Title.


(Draven smiles)


(DRAVEN)
Well I like the sounds of that match, but we haven’t got word from Ripper or anyone else who is actually going to participate.


(CROC)
If you don’t make the match, I will drag his disgusting carcass over on a boat and finish him off in the car park if I have to.


(Croc glares at Draven)


(CROC)
If you want to ensure you don’t get an 18+ rating, hence ruining your pay per view buy rates, than you better legalise what I intend to do to Ripper or else his blood will be sprayed all over this arena and your god damn hands!


(Croc turns around and goes to walk out of the office and runs straight into Nicolas Draven, who enters the office at the same time)


(CROC)
Who the hell are you?


(DRAVEN)
He’s my son Croc.


(Nicolas Draven smirks)


(NICOLAS DRAVEN)
Yeah I am his son!


(Croc glares at Draven Junior)


(CROC)
I can’t believe the authorities allowed such a half-wit to breed!


(Draven Junior seems a bit offended by this slight on his father and tries to stand over Croc. Croc grabs him by the throat and pins him up against the wall. A seething Croc looks back at Draven)


(CROC)
If you don’t make this match Draven… I am sure making you bury your precious son would be a nice consolation prize!


(Croc releases the choke hold and walks out of the office, leaving Draven Junior gasping for air)

[MJ Windsor]

moments after stepping out of the room, the Aussie Icon takes two steps back and returns to the office. Standing with his back to the 'Dravens' he looks straight ahead, Croc doesn't look scared, he never looks scared, he does not even really look too concerned, but he does look shocked and surprised.

The camera pans to show Mr Draven and NJD, Timothy is smiling, but NJD is not, in fact he looks positively pissed off, even more so than following Crocs cheap attack.

Croc takes another step back into the room, leaving space for the 'surprise' to show his face, and what a face it is.


Mr Timothy Draven
I knew you would not let me down, Welcome back, son!


That's right, the 4th man in the room is the most decorated AWA Champion in history, former tag team, hardcore and 4 time World champion and the man that is seen as a son by AWA CEO, the former 'Ego', MJ Windsor!

MJ surveys the room, his confident facial expression is complemented by a perfectly tailored suit, expensive wrist watch and dashingly good physic.


MJ Windsor
Well well well, this is quite the meeting isn't it!
Four former World Champions, granted you and you (pointing to NJD and Croc) only held the belt for a blink of an eye but still, you reached the top somehow and for a short, short period of time got a glimpse of what it is like to live the life men like Timmy and I.


MJ walks over to Timmy and holds out his arms as they hug it out. NJ is holding himself back from freaking out, the sight of his father greeting the man he absolutely hates, his half brother through their shared mother is making him sick, but he refrains for now.

MJ pushes NJ's buttons a little more as he turns to him and smirks before taking center stage in the room.


MJ Windsor
So Andy thinks his return is the big news? Andy comes walking back into the AWA Arena and assumes he is the man everyone has been waiting for?
Well sorry to piss all over your parade my old friend but following your last embarrassing run in this company i am pretty sure the only reason Timbo is letting you have one more match is because he, like me, wants to see you make a holy show of yourself once again!

And what you need to understand is that your not going to be in any main event, you may be on the show card but your a filler, there is one man and one man only who Timbo trusts to main event a show that he is promoting and that is MJ Windsor, whether i have to carry Anthony Jordan, Slam II or both of them it really does not matter, they will be a part of the main event but MJ Windsor is 'the' main event.


MJ now turns his attention to his half brother


MJ Windsor
Hey brother, good to see you mate! This is like one big great family reunion, minus Andy of course, even his parents faked their own deaths to try and disown him.
Anyway, i know we have had our issues in the past, and i know Timbo would rather i was his actual son but i was thinking we could put all that in the past because honestly life is way to short and i was hoping i could extend and offer to you that will make us closer than ever.
You see brother, once i have beaten whoever it is have to beat in the main event, the referee is going to hand me my belt, the belt that i made famous, the belt that i've held more times and for longer than anyone else in the history of the AWA, the AWA Undisputed World Heavyweight Championship! But in that moment of glory im not going to want to fuck about putting the belt on myself, im going to want someone to do that job for me, so how about it Nicky, how about you get into the ring at the end of the night and you strap the championship around my waist and get the best view in the building of greatest wrestler in the world.


MJ has walked into the room and stirred the pot without a second thought, how will those on the receiving end respond?

[Gregory "Ripper" Kennedy]

Voice:Well isn’t this a nice little party.

:: As MJ is waiting for Timmy to reply with his thoughts about what should be the true main event. A voice comes from the door frame. It instantly causes Croc’s face to slip into one of pure anger as he slowly turns to look. Nicholas and Timmy both seem quite happy at the voice and MJW seems completely uncaring. The camera turns to show standing in the door frame the man Croc had challenged to a match. Gregory Kennedy. He however, has changed since his last appearance in the AWA. He has bulked down a little bit and his long dark hair has been replaced with a short spiked blonde cut. He is also wearing a very smart suit which is a far step away from his jeans and guayabera of old. Looking around the room he greets everyone. ::

Gregory Kennedy: “Timmy. Nicky. Aussie. Limey.”

:: Croc and MJ don’t seem as impressed with the greeting they received as the Draven’s do. Taking a step into the room Ripper turns to face Croc. The two stare of for a while, Croc’s eye burning with a rage and Rippers swirling with a kind of uncaring look. Ripper smirks and let out a brief chuckle before turning back to the room as a whole. ::

Gregory Kennedy: “So how has everyone been? You all seem to have rushed back in here and instantly went back to the old ways. Hating on each other, screaming I deserve this, he doesn’t deserve that. This guy calls me gay. I want to be the main event. Guys, have we not grown up out of this?”

:: Greg looks around the room for some response however, doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere::

Gregory Kennedy: “No? Thank god. I couldn’t be civil to all four of you up until this special show. Hell it was starting to hurt standing in this room and not ripping into you all. Timmy, Nicky I’ll get to you two at a later date. You’re not really doing much right now apart from making phonecalls and stroking your egos. Also one more thing, why the hell did you send me a telegram? Who sends telegrams? Part of me thinks that you didn’t want me here but don’t worry I prevailed and I got here. Which I’m sure makes everyone happy.”

:: Ripper smiles cockily towards Croc and winks. However, before moving onto his apparent opponent he turns back to MJW::

Gregory Kennedy: “MJ. Still the same person, I’m not surprised you always had a problem growing up and you know leopards and what not. You are however wrong about one thing. You talk about how people don’t want to see Andy or Myself in the main event. You are wrong. Now Andy and I may not see eye to eye but the one thing that we do agree on is that this match…”

:: Ripper gestures to himself and Croc::

Gregory Kennedy: “…Should be the main event. I’ll tell you why. This match has never happened. You, Slam, AJ…Everyone has seen that match again and again and again. People are sick and tired of seeing that rehash of a feud. Croc, Ripper, that match has been building for close for close to five years. You see we’ve never seen eye to eye ever, since the Anti-Croc League. Since that time we have been at each other’s throats. Sure, every now and again we put our differences aside for a bigger evil.”

:: Ripper gives a long hard stare at MJW who seems quite proud of the fact he is being called a big evil. Ripper then goes back to addressing the room::

Gregory Kennedy: “But deep down inside that rage has always been there, festering away. Now you have that match and it’s going to be the match of the night. Five years of hatred, malice and just downright dislike of each other is going to come out in that match. It’s going to be brutal. It’s going to be a match people will talk about for years and in the end if you don’t make it the main event it’s going to be you who gets the brunt of the complaints. This match doesn’t need a title to make it great, unlike certain people.

:: Ripper turns to talk to Croc directly::

Gregory Kennedy: “Now don’t get me wrong. This match will be brutal and full of hate. It will be a match people will talk about for years but what they will be saying isn’t ‘I can’t believe Croc won.’ What they will be saying is ‘Man those two beat the hell out of each other but in the end it was the better man who won. That Ripper, what a guy!’ You see Croc I’m not going to lose to you. I’m not coming out of retirement to lose to a whiney, narcissist, mama’s boy. I came to put on a hell of match and show everyone why I am one of the biggest draws this company, and indeed any company I have worked for in my career. I am one of the best selling wrestlers in history. I am the hardcore madman. I am Gregory Kennedy and you. Will. Lose.”

:: Ripper smiles a cocky smile and steps nose to nose with Croc. Ripper chuckles and steps back. Taking a place at the back of the room, letting whoever wants to respond to go ahead face to face. ::

[Whitey Ford]

Voice: Ahem.

::Everyone turns towards the open door to regard the newcomer to the newest hot spot in the AWA arena. All are silent as Whitey Ford stands in the doorway, his arms cross over his shoulders. Ford is wearing a plain windbreaker and jeans, nothing spectacular. He drops a shoulder and lets his duffel bag fall to the floor. Ford gives everyone a few seconds of eye contact, but when he reaches Ripper he double takes up to his spiked blond hair. A pause later, Whitey snorts out a small laugh, motioning at his former friends attire with a mocking hand.::

Whitey Ford: What the fuck happened to you, Captain Supercuts? Were you watching old Sheldon Reese tapes and decided to dress as someone interesting? Who dies their hair BLONDE and spikes it when they're trying to be a 'hardcore madman?' Oooh, thats real fucking scary. What are you going to do, bludgeon me with spiking gel? Frost my tips, no homo?

::Whitey looks at the rest of the room, jabbing his thumb in the direction of Ripper.::

Whitey Ford: And to think this guy used to make his living playing a sidekick to an idiot. I'm not going to lie, I can be an outright moron sometimes, but at least I don't dress like I'm going to audition for that...that...

::Whitey loses his train of thought, trying to sound out the show he's thinking of.::

Whitey Ford: The Biggest Loser? No...Trump Temptation Island...no, fuckit. I can't remember the show, the one where idiots in suits tried to become an assistant to Donald Trump. Makes sense; that show was as forgettable as Ripper himself.

::Ford slaps a hand onto Rippers shoulder, regarding him sarcastically.::

Whitey Ford: I'm sorry, ol' pal, I didn't come here just to make fun of your $12 haircut and lack of accolades. Its just you were first in line.

::Whitey coughs up another laugh, mocking Rippers voice.::

Whitey Ford: "I are Ripper. And I are win maybe." What a fucking joke.

::Once again, Whitey turns to the rest of the room, shrugging his shoulders and cross his arms over his chest once again.::

Whitey Ford: Actually, this entire room is pretty funny. A bunch of old World Champions here for 'one last hurrah' and still trying to act like they're important. If being a champion in this fucing place is something to put on your resume, why haven't any of you fucks gotten work after this? Because when you have to face a roster of more than 5 people, you just might find that your not quite as important as you thought you were. Lets see...

::Whitey points at Croc.::

Whitey Ford: I beat you years ago for some useless title in some worthless organization, and you haven't forgotten about it. I think you and Jake Seven even got together to write a poem about how much it hurt your feelings that I made you both look ridiculous.

::Whitey then shifts his attention to Timmy Draven.::

Whitey Ford: The 'illustrious' owner of the AWA, who's making a big statement by paying people based on performance. Look around at the talent in this room, dippy. You did that because, besides me, even with everyone here you'd only be breaking a couple hundred bucks, max. People will spend more on concession stand popcorn than you'll be spending on these hacks. But hey, whatever makes your managing of the AWA look more edgy and cool for the kids, right?

::Ford goes to point at Nicholas Draven, but stops just for a moment. He then flips him off instead.::

Whitey Ford: Fuck off, I should know you from somewhere, but I don't. I think you were on Jerry Springer with Timmy for some illegitamit love child from one of several asian hookers, and somehow THIS asshole is tied into the mess.

::Finally, Ford turns his gaze to MJW.::

Whitey Ford: You, MJ. Good ol' Michael John Windsor. During one of my last brief strolls through the hallways here, I decided I was going to 'crusade against evil' and fight against the New Connection. But then the acid trip wore off, and I became so bored with even being associated with a group as tiresome, yawn-inducing, and long lived as "Mexi-Cool.' Don't get that reference, huh? Point proven.

::Whitey laughs, the only one to be amused by his tirade against several very dangerous men.::

Whitey Ford: Timmy, listen...I'm here for one more show, depending if the money is right. I don't need the money, but i'm not livening up this shithole for chickenfeed pay, if you get what I mean. I'm not here to catch up on old times or point out how stupid you all are...I'm here to beat the shit out of Ryan Green. The guy thinks that raging on the AWA forums about me is a way to send a tough guy statement. I can almost guarantee he plays World of Warcraft calling everyone 'noobs' for hours a day before going out in public and beating up a smaller man to keep his tough guy image alive. You want me to perform at my best? You want to make a quick buck before you send all these rejects packing for home?

::Whitey's eyes widen, obviously proud of his idea.::

Whitey Ford: Make our match a 60 minute Ironman match. I will beat Ryan Green about three dozen times, take a nap, call over a vendor for a Dr. Pepper, and then beat him another 6 or 7 times. Make it happen, Timbo...

::Ford gives a cocky smirk, grabbing his duffel bag from the floor and throwing it over his shoulders once again.::

Whitey Ford:...you wouldn't want your biggest superstar to walk out of a show, would you?

::Ford turns and leaves the room, not interested in any rebuttal from the wrestlers involved at all.::