Insanity Triple Threat Promo - Toronto 7/27/13

July 4th

Near Pelessier Lake, outside of Marquette, Michigan

A dark green Ford Tahoe rolls up a long driveway leading up to the sprawling ranch house. The house itself is not large compared to others in the neighborhood, being only a single story, but several other guesthouses, some attached by walkways, help increase the living space significantly. The front door of the main house opens as the Tahoe arrives. A smiling elderly man walks step out, followed by a slightly stooped, but also smiling, elderly woman, who leans on the man’s arm. They watch the SUV roll past and park behind a long line of other cars on the side of the driveway. The man nods his approval and slowly starts to walk towards the car. A man gets out of the driver’s side and stretches. A woman exits the passenger side, followed by a large Asian man from the back seat. All are dressed casually, in shorts and t-shirts. The driver looks over at the elderly couple, smiles a genuine mega-watt smile and opens his arms wide. He then walks over and hugs the elderly couple.

Man: Welcome home Son!

Woman: Welcome home Larry!

Wevv: Good to here Mom, Dad! I wouldn’t miss the Fourth for anything!

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The layout of the main house is an L – shape and using the nearest guesthouse, frames a large patio area. A large deck covers the nearest area connecting the two houses, looking out over a large grassy area. In that area a group of kids run freely, playing games like Frisbee, cornhole, badminton, or chasing several dogs. On the deck, the adults make themselves comfortable, the men gathered around a large gas grill and open coolers, talking in small groups. The women have claimed the other side of the coolers in the shade, but also with an unobstructed view of the children. The occasional warning shout from the parents keeps the kids on their toes and helps maintain the mutually agreed upon fiction of order.

Wevv enters the area through a sliding door, flanked by his parents. An uproar of greetings welcomes Wevv, calling him by his real name of Larry. Greetings are followed by handshakes, hugs and slaps on the back. Wevv’s brother Garry places an arm around Wevv’s shoulder

Garry: Larry! You made it! Good to see you!

Wevv: Garry: How are you baby brother! So, the entire Southwestern division, eh? Nice work, kiddo. How’s Colorado treating you?

Harry: I’ll let you get caught up, Larry. Kenzo, will you help me man the grill? Carl, that’s Carey’s husband by the way, may be a fine surgeon, but he can’t cook a steak worth a damn.

Mr. Wang bows slightly and smiling follows the elder Zybyscko over to grill, to relieve a man of his tongs. The man had been telling a joke to several onlookers, and doesn’t seem to mind being relieved.

Carl: Everything’s under control Dad.

Harry: Thanks Carl. Carey seems to need your help with something, so Kenzo will be helping me on the grill. You remember Kenzo? He’s my son’s bodyguard and a heckuva grill master.

Kenzo twirls the tongs in his hands, walks them over his knuckles and then through a series of knife fighting flourishes. He bows to the crowd’s applause. Harry starts chatting to Kenzo non-stop and seems to enjoy the fact that Kenzo only grunts and nods. Mr. Wang smiles widely as well.

<p class="MsoNormal">Katherine: Your father is too hard on Carl. He does rather well with vegetables –

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Well, he married Carey, so of course –

<p class="MsoNormal">Katherine: Hush. Being a vegetarian is a noble cause and good for you too! However, you have to be careful what vegetables you eat these days. I mean really! They can grow whatever they want and still call it a (finger quotes)“vegetable”! It’s absurd!

<p class="MsoNormal">Garry and Wevv just share a look and a smile.

<p class="MsoNormal">A man walks forward and offers his hand for Wevv to shake. The man is limping, and has welts all over his face and hands. In one hand he holds a beer. Wevv’s mouth starts to open, as the man speaks. He speaks with a faint Norwegian accent.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level:1">Man: Mr. Mang, good to see you sir!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level:1">Wevv: Lionel?!? What happened to you?

<p class="MsoNormal">Kathy: Lionel finally met his match. Remember that old stump out by the end of the driveway? Dad decided to have it taken out. Turns out there was a huge yellow jacket nest in there and well, Lionel got hit the worst.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level:1">Lionel: True, but they all paid the final price and Mr. Zybyscko did not get stung. Not once.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Well, thank you Mr. Radjvek, I had no idea my parents were subjecting you to such danger. Your bravery and courage are duly noted. You may expect a hazard pay bump in your next check.

<p class="MsoNormal">Madison: I’m going to check on Kenzo. Make sure he doesn’t try to slip any of that weird meat he bought at the store on the grill.

<p class="MsoNormal">Katherine: Be a dear and help me over to my husband? I fear he’ll talk Kenzo’s ears off. Now, about that meat, at least it’s natural. Did you know that the local Indian tribes consider groundhog a delicacy? Indeed, Harry and I have been working with the Ojibwe, that’s a local Native American tribe dear, great people! Now, where was I? Oh yes! Harry and I.

<p class="MsoNormal">Lionel excuses himself from Wevv’s presence and follow Katherine and Madison. Carey’s sister, holding three bottled beers in both hands, passes them as she walks over to Wevv and Gary. She rolls her eyes once she’s safely past, drawing a chuckle from her brothers.

<p class="MsoNormal">Carey: Welcome home, Big Brother! Beer?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Why thank you little sister, don’t mind if I do!

<p class="MsoNormal">Carey: Garry?

<p class="MsoNormal">Garry: Thanks sis! I don’t like this Larry, she’s being nice.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Means she wants something…

<p class="MsoNormal">Carey: I missed you guys too. Come on, (she holds up her beer in a toast), To the Zybyscko-Miller Clan! Together again! Cheers!

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv and Garry: Cheers!

<p class="MsoNormal">Carey: Now Larry, you’re wrestling. Again.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Here we go..

<p class="MsoNormal">Garry: What’s that honey? Be right there! Sorry Larry, Carey, the wife is calling! See ya!

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: COWARD!

<p class="MsoNormal">Carey: You through with the dramatics? Good. Now, about you wrestling. You know how my boys look up to you, so I would (Carey puts special emphasis into her next word) appreciate it if you would have a word with them about the dangers of your “sport”.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Yes Ma’am.

<p class="MsoNormal">Carey: Also, that little stunt you pulled for Milo’s16th birthday?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: He didn’t like the car? I can get him another.

<p class="MsoNormal">Carey: Cute. You knew Carl was going to give him a car for graduation!

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Oh, sorry. Oh, hey, was that your brand new Cadillac Escalade in the driveway? Huh, I didn’t know they made hybrid versions of those. Very environmentally conscious of you.

<p class="MsoNormal">Carey: (laughing) Oh, shut up! I have 3 teenagers and 2 pre-teens! I need the space! Now go talk to your nephews and nieces!

<p class="MsoNormal">Later:

<p class="MsoNormal">The fireworks are over, and a cool night breeze has swept in off of Lake Superior. The sound of crickets and cicadas chirping fill the night air. Wevv sits on a large comfy chair, inside a gazebo on the dock of Lake Pellesier. A citronella candela is light, but doesn’t cast much light. Wevv looks out over the lake, seeing the moon and stars reflected in the water. A hand comes down on his shoulder, causing him to jump. His eyes flash open and he sees his father standing over him, with a slight smile on his face.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: OH SHIT!

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Easy son, it’s just me! Didn’t mean to startle you.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Whew! You got me good Dad. I’m surprised Kenzo –

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: I bribed him with some dried squirrel meat I got from the Ojibwe. Been trying to get rid of it for months. So, something on your mind, boy?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Heh. What makes you say that?

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Well, you’re out on the dock and you just tossed a perfectly good joint into the water for starters.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Caught that did you?

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Not much slips past me, even these days. Now, you wanna talk about it? Or is this something I shouldn’t know about.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: No Dad, it’s nothing like that. It’s just…well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and well, it’s not like it used to be, is it?

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: That nothing ever stays the same is certainly true. You know, when I was your age, when I thought about how I was going to spend the rest of my life, I always thought it would be…well, nevermind. It certainly didn’t involve fly-fishing and squirrel jerky!

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Come on now, what did you think you would be doing?

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry sighs, and takes a seat next to Wevv. He leans over to the cooler by Wevv’s feet. He pulls out a beer, opens it, and takes a sip.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Well, when I was your age, you were off in Japan or on one of those mega rock tours. You were out of the house. Garry and Carey were in college, and so it was just your mother and I. So, we thought, “Our family is raised and now we can go back to trying to save the world!”. First thing we did was look up our old friends, and see where we could help out most. The local scene, you know, the weekend protests, raising funds, circulating the petitions, and helping raise awareness of causes, that just wasn’t what we were looking for. We wanted something more. So, now we had time, and your mother and I wanted to get back into the real business of making a difference. Like the old days.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Must have been quite a shock to see what it’s like now, eh?

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Tell me about it. I mean, a video on the internet seems to do more than a whole stadium full of people holding signs and protesting. Look at what happened with that Occupy Wall Street debacle. Yeesh! Anyway, so we thought we were just going to hit the road like the old days and take the fight to the oppressors wherever they thought they could hide! First place we went to was Columbia to help out the Patriotic Union. You know of them?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: No, can’t say that I do.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Not surprising. Well, maybe you know them as FARC? Yeah, that FARC. Back in the sixties, Kat and I tried to help out the Columbians. Those rat bastard politicians were forcing people off their land so they could mass-produce cheap crops for the conglomerates, and a by-product was now a pool of basically slave labor. Well, back in ’93 I think it was? Kat and I went down there and tried to help form the Patriotic Union. We thought if we could get FARC at least a voice in the government it could help end the bloodshed. If it could work there, maybe it could work in other places as well. Didn’t turn out that way though. Instead the government hunted the party leaders down. Scared the bejesus out of us and we got the hell out of there quick as we could.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: I had no idea! Why didn’t you tell me?

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Relax son, nothing happened to us. We tried to raise awareness, when we got back, but the media just didn’t care. Well, after puttering around an empty house, we got up the nerve to make another go at it. You remember Uncle Phan? We used to protest about raising awareness of the US in Cambodia and Thailand. Well, we got in touch with him and he said he could use our help over in Burma. Seems that the elected government wasn’t too keen on some of their citizens, and they needed help fleeing the country. So, we packed our bags and went to help save some lives. It was when we were smuggling a group across the border that we final knew we weren’t cut out for this anymore.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry’s eyes go distant. He stares out over the lake. In the flickering moonlight the familiarity to his son is clear.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: We had a group of about 50 people we were going to try to sneak across the boarder. A few parents, but mostly kids. Our cover was that Kat and I were missionaries and we were taking them to our camp to get inoculations. Which was ironically true. We had forged papers, and everything looked to be fine. I was driving this crappy old bus packed to the roof with people, through these shitty roads on the side of the Himalayas. The goal was to get them to Bangladesh, but those direct roads were being watched like a hawk, so we decided to try and sneak in through the north. We were right at the boarder, and this smug little prick of a guard was stopping everyone. I never knew where all that traffic had come from; I hadn’t passed anything looking like a village for hours. But here we were, fourth in line behind another small buss, a donkey hauling a cart, and a small car. The guard was just harassing people, and slowing things down. He let the car through, but there was some problem with the buss ahead of us, and the guard and his buddy pulled a group out of the buss. There was a lot of yelling at first and then, gunshots. A lot of gunshots. More guards came from somewhere and then more people were pulled off the bus. Women this time. Young women. Some were shot. Just… shot, like they were nothing. The rest were pulled into a shack…

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry stops and shudders. Only the sounds of the night can be heard.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: We made it through. I have no idea what I said or did, and I vaguely remember Kat helping to keep everyone calm. I do remember the smile on the guards face as he walked up to our bus. That bastard was happy. Happy he had gotten a chance to kill…

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry stops again and takes a deep breath.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: When we finally made it back to the camp in Bangladesh, we booked our flight right the fuck out of there. We had finally had enough. We wanted to see our first grandchild born, see ALL our grandchildren born. We weren’t fighters anymore. We had become comfortable…

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry’s voice fades out. Silence between the two men stretches on for a few minutes. Wevv then sighs and reaches over to cooler. He opens it and pulls out a beer. He offers one to his Dad who nods his acceptance. Wevv opens it and hands it over. Wevv takes a deep drink from his beer, and settles back into his chair.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: You know, back when you and Mom used to take us to all those countries, I used to think you were superheroes. Rushing out to save the world. As I got older, and actually started to understand what you were trying to do, I still thought you were superheroes, just not very smart ones.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry laughs at that.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: I remember when you asked why we didn’t just buy some tanks or some better guns! Kat nearly fainted!

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: I just didn’t understand why whomever you were protesting against had such better stuff and had such better living conditions. I mean, we usually were living in some shithole, and eating dirt and there they were, living in a palace! Once I realized that it was because they had all that money and power they were able to do what they wanted, I started to think, what could be done to take that advantage away? Then I hit upon a plan, but I needed more information first.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Always the logical one.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: The simplest course of action, I thought, would be to beat them at their own game. I would learn their ways, their tricks, use their own tools, pretend to be one of them, and use that knowledge against them. It all seemed too simple then.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Everything seems simple when you’re 14. So, how about now?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Pfft. We both know the answer to that question. Nothing is ever that simple. Doesn’t even matter if it should be, it never is. The higher you go, the less simple every decision is. Power can be a heavy burden.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv drains his beer and grabs another.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: You know I started wrestling again.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Yep. Kat was not happy about it. She thought for sure that you and Madison were about to start giving her grandkids.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv almost does a spit take.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: What? Madison and I?

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Sure! Why not? She’s pretty enough, ain’t she? You spend a lot of time together. What’s the hold up?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: She’s an employee.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Pfshaw! Like that matters!

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Also, I’m not her type.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Who is then? Lionel?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: No, not Lionel. She doesn’t like men.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Oh. OH! Groovy! Well, looks like I owe Carey a dollar. So, if you’re not itching to settle down, what’s eating you son?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: It’s just that, well, it’s hard to explain. It’s….see, when I first stepped through those ropes, and looked out upon the crowd, I got the old feeling back. The magic was back and Wevv had come home, and was ready to kick ass and take names. Years were washed away in an instant. It was just like I had traveled back in time. But that was the problem. I started going right back to where I had left off. Once again, I found myself going right back to what soured the business for me all those years ago. I had found my smile, but that smile was quickly turning into a sneer. Which got me thinking, have I really changed? Am I still that same person after all these years? I didn’t want to be, but the habits came back without even thinking about it. Maybe it was a mistake after all?

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry stands up with a slight groan and some faint popping of joints. He stretches. He then puts away his device, locks up the cabinet again, and turns to face Wevv.

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Well son, let me tell you something. If you can ask the question, then you’re doing just fine. That’s what a conscious is for. To make you question yourself. Not to tear you down, but make sure you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing. If you didn’t ask those questions, well, that’s a whole other problem. People make mistakes. You just acknowledge them, and make sure you don’t do it again. Now, what do you plan to do about it?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Keep going. Finish what I started. Make sure I keep my perspective straight. Prove it to myself. (Wevv smirks) Win my match. Then win the next one, and the one after that, and so on. That sound about right?

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: It’s a good Plan son. Now, I’m going in. An old man like me needs his rest. Good night Larry.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: ‘Night Dad.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv sees his Dad walking the wrong way back up to the house.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: You need help getting back to the house?

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: Don’t sass me boy, I’ll be fine. I would, however, appreciate it if you would be so kind as to use the West entrance of the house when you do come in. Make a lot of noise when you walk up the path too.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Why?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv’s dad starts walking the direct path to the house. He stops and says over his shoulder:

<p class="MsoNormal">Harry: To give your niece Betty enough warning to stop sucking face with that Cromwell boy she met in town, that’s why. Your brother doesn’t need to know anything about it, so just between us. I may be old, but I know a trick or two.

Present:
<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: CROTCHMAN! Holy cow, you still work here?

<p class="MsoNormal">Crotchman: Wevv! Welcome back buddy, how have you been?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Fine, fine. Wow. I thought you worked for ESPN now?

<p class="MsoNormal">Crotchman: I do. Part time. However, I am still work here for LPW. I’m the senior most interviewer on the show, you know. Some even call me the Mean Gene of LPW.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: really. Well, I suppose congratulations are in order then. Well done Crotch, I’m actually glad to see you still here. Nice to see a familiar face.

<p class="MsoNormal">Crotchman: Thanks Wevv. Now, let’s get down to business. READY IN 3! 2!    -

<p class="MsoNormal">Floodlights come on and the sound boom drops into place. The cameraman points and…ACTION!

<p class="MsoNormal">Crotchman: WELCOME LPW FANS! I’m here with Wevv Mang, fresh off his victory with Phantom Lord at Tag Team Turmoil! Wevv! Good to have you back! How does it feel?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: It feels good Jonathon. It feels even better starting things off with win! I faced some great competition. Mr. Knight has plenty of talent to go far in this company.

<p class="MsoNormal">Crotchman: What are you thoughts about your upcoming match against Ozzy Crerar and Nigel Vanderbilt in the triple threat Rich Prick Challenge?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: While the name of said match leaves something to be desired, I do agree that a friendly wager between Men of Means adds a little excitement to the proceedings. Now, I would like to clarify one thing. I did not blindly sign this contract. There is a difference between reckless arrogance and justified confidence. I may have only won one match, but I do believe in my wrestling skills and myself. However, this is wrestling. Disqualification counts as a loss. I know my wrestling history. Men have been wrongly disqualified before. I am going to be stepping into the ring against Nigel Vanderbilt, a desperate and cunning individual. He has proven time and time again that nothing is out of bounds to him and that he will do anything to win. One must take into account that his definition of victory is not necessarily a 3-count. Failure to remember this would be a costly mistake.

<p class="MsoNormal">Crotchman: So, you know what the prize is for the winner?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Not exactly. I did read over the stipulations, and would like to inform my shareholders, business partners, and most importantly, all 14,000 employees, that I will not be gambling with your future. Your jobs your investments, your livelihood are not collateral in this wager. Only I will bear the burden of this wager. If I loose, well, as I said, I am a man of means. Cash, land, planes, cars, collector items, hell, it could even be that the looser will be the winner’s butler for a year, the possibilities are endless! EXCEPT! My employees are off limits. They work for me. They are not my property. While I may be responsible for them, I do not have the right to callously gamble their fates without their permission.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: I am a wealthy man. I feel no shame in saying that, nor should I. Wealth is not a social stigma. It’s only money. It comes, it goes. I can make it back. Things are just that, things. Things are not people and cannot take the place of a human life. So, while I can accept the consequences of losing, that does not mean I have already done so. I train to win, and I plan to win. When the bell rings, I will be ready.

<p class="MsoNormal">Crotch: What are your thoughts about your opponents in this match, Ozzy Crerar and Nigel Vanderbilt?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Well, I don’t know much about Ozzy. I attempted to verify his finances, as he was one of the many individuals my company wanted me to try and establish a business relationship with. However, when we looked into his finances, there were some…irregularities.

<p class="MsoNormal">Crotch: Irregularities? Like what? He’s not actually rich?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: No, nothing like that. He has money. It’s just that we’re not really sure how he’s making it. See, we knew about the ap he came up with, and some digging turned up how much he made, but that was back in 2007. Over five years ago. The revenue stream for that ap has mostly dried up due to copycats, new tech, expired licensing agreements, etc. The IRS says everything is OK on their end, so that’s not a problem. All inquiries we made were directly to several offshore companies that never got back to us, other than a generic email that said “thank you for your interest”. So, since we couldn’t be sure, we simply decided not to pursue any further inquiries.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Personally? I have no problem with him. Hell, if Fred vouched for him, he’s OK in my books. However, there can only be one winner in this match, so I’m going to do what I have to do. Nothing personal, and no hard feelings. In fact, I look forward to matching my technical skills against his.

<p class="MsoNormal">Crotch: And Mr. Vanderbilt?

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Ah, Nigel. You know, I can see a glimpse of myself in him. He’s a fighter. He’ll use every tool he has at his disposal to win. He’s cunning. He’s devious. He has the bloodlust to go to whatever lengths he needs to get what he wants. Only…only…he’s his own worst enemy. He’s so focuses on a singular goal, that he loses sight of the bigger picture. He has the goal in his grasp and he’s compelled to take that extra step, to give his “victory” that little something extra, but it’s too much. Too late. Sadly it’s only after the fact that he realizes he actually lost the war.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Indeed. I have been down that path. It sucks. It only drives one to greater measures. Until all that is left is…

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv had been losing himself in his memories, and suddenly seems to realize what was going on. Wevv looks up and sees Crotch hanging on his words. Even the crew seems to be leaning in to hear better.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Well, we know what’s left, don’t we Nigel? I can feel your desperation Nigel. You need this win. With a win here, it will validate everything you have been saying for so long. I know, I used to say it too. Defeat can be a bitter poison, slowly eating away a man’s spirit, until all that is left is a hollow empty shell, desperate to try and maintain it’s illusion of invincibility. The next defeat will cause it to shatter, your shell of lies collapsing, scattering, impossible to put back together. But it won’t end there, will it? No, the world will go on. You will go on. Only now, you have to face the facts. Your words meant nothing. Your actions meant nothing. YOU meant nothing! How will you go on? How CAN you? Only one thing will make you whole again! Only ONE THING can make the world recognize WHO YOU ARE! Only ONE THING will ERASE EVERYTHING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED BEFORE AND MAKE THE WORLD BOW AT YOUR FEET LIKE THE DOGS THEY ARE!

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv stops.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: Yes, Nigel. As I said, I know that feeling. I KNOW what it’s like. BUT THIS TIME, Nigel, there is going to be a difference!

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: I will be there.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: I’m going to stop you Nigel. Not out of hatred. Not out of fear. I’m going to stop your mad quest because some one has to make you realize that there are consequences for your actions. Consequences not just to those around you, but also to yourself. You need to face what you’re becoming.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wevv: You have made a name for yourself Nigel. It’s just not the one you would have chosen. I am not taking you lightly. I am not underestimating you. I am treating you very, very seriously. Nor am I taking Mr. Crerar lightly. The way a man runs his company says a lot about him. Yours Mr. Crerar say you do not care. That you would rather let others do the work. However, you DID just compete in a match for the World Tag Team Championships with Pope Fred. Fred would not team up with some one who wasn’t able to carry their weight. I am not going to underestimate you either Mr. Crerar. All three of us will enter that ring, one will walk out victorious. May the best man win. I plan to be that man. See what I did there?