(The scene opens and we find ourselves right outside a hospital in the New Jersey area. We don't even bother to go inside because just as we the scene opens to the hospital's front doors, they swing open. And just as they swing open we see...Jack Daniels! But look at Daniels, he looks like hell, and with good reason. Daniels has quite a few bandages covering the gashes and scars on his head. As Daniels walks out from the hospital doors, he's clutching his ribs, and although we can't see it because he's wearing a shirt, you can rest assure that his ribs are all taped up and bandaged fromt he punishment he took. But the physical scars don't even compare to the mental scars and the mental punishment that Daniels took. Daniels was duped by that criminal Marcus Hailey. Hailey took Daniel's own match, twisted it around, duped him and made Daniels look bad in front of his millions of drunkaholics. How Daniels will recover from this is unknown but we will soon find out. This picture seems odd however. Not only cuz it's Daniels all bandaged up walking out of a hospital. No, if you're the drunkaholic ya claim to be, then ya would have realized that the drunken bastard doesn't have his beverage of choice in hand. It's a sight for sore eyes, but life goes on. The ever so lovely Electra is there waiting for Daniels and hugs him as he walks out. They both begin walking towards the parking lot as Eletcra begins spekaing...)
Electra: Jack, we need to talk.
Jack Daniels: Listen baby, the last thing this drunken bastard wants to do is talk right now.
Electra: No Jack...we REALLY need to talk.
Jack Daniels: 'Bout what? "bout how Jack Daniels lost at his own match? 'Bout how Jack Daniels was humiliated and beaten to an inch within his life by a million and one fuckin' prison inmates? Please, I don't need this shit right now baby.
(They approach their car as they both stop and continue talking...)
Electra: And I don't need it either Jack. For years I've been by your side. We've been through rough times and good times. But this is it. This is the last straw. I can't be put through this type of shit anymore. All you do is use me for my high impact workouts and as a shoulder to cry one. I'm tired of boosting your confidnce when it's down. And there ain't no way for anyone to pull you out of this slump you're in right now.Including me...
Jack Daniels: What are ya sayin'?
Electra: I'm sayin' I'm through. I want outta this right now. (Electra extends her left hand and pulls off a ring and then throws it right in Daniels chest. It bounces off of his chest and falls to the floor as Daniels looks down at it speechless.) I can't go on like this Jack. All you do is liquor yourself up and see life through a reality that doesn't exist. Face it Jack...you just can't cut it anymore. Shit, you never could. I can't be with someone who kills himself with a false sense of confindence and Old No.7. Au revoir Jack-O. Gimme a call when you finally come to your senses and realize just how pathetic you are.
(Electra turns around and just walks off. All Daniels can do is watch her walk off. And as if Daniel's week wasn't bad enough. He gets beaten physically and mentally, and now the love of his life walks right out of it. What's next for the drunken bastard? How can his career...his life get any worse? Daniels doesn't even get in the car. Instead he drops his duffel bag and just starts walking down the street with his head down, realizing that thigns couldn't get any worse that they are now.)
Jack Daniels: What's next huh? What the hell is next for this drunken bastard? First Hailey cons me into this match at Riker's Island so his little butt buddies can do all the work for him and he takes the credit for it. I get drunk from colored water. And now...now the one person in this world that understood me, that would be un my corner...by my side no matter what has left me hangin' high and dry. And worst of all, I can't even refer to myself as drunken bastard, cuz as it is, Jack Daniels ain't drunk. Jack Daniels has hit low points in his life 'fore...but this takes the cake. I can only wonder if there's any reboundin' from this.
(As Daniels walks down the street, he comes to a sudden stop and finally looks up. His eyes aren't playing tricks on him this time. Daniel's eyes light up as he looks up and sees a bar right in front of him.)
Jack Daniels: The lonely man's three best friends...a bar...a bartender...and his liquor.
(Daniels walks into the bar. He takes a look around as there's a pretty good crowd, but not really packed. Daniels walks up to the bar and sits in a stool as the bartender walks to Daniels nad speaks...)
Bartender: Hey pal, what can I get...Wait a second, your...Jack Daniels!
Jack Daniels: Yeah, ya must have saw my ass get whooped 'round last Sunday to know who I am.
Bartender: Yeah I did see that. It was a disturbing scene to say the least. So what can I get ya?
Jack Daniels: All I need is someone to talk to. Someone to listen...a friend.
Bartender: Well, I'm here for you if you need to get something off your chest.
Jack Daniels: Jack Daniels doesn't want ya. Now ya know what he wants so get it for him.
(The bartender walks off before returning to Daniels with what else, but a good old bottle of Old No.7. The bartender opens it and places it in front of Daniels. Daniels picks it up and looks at it for a moment before speaking...)
Jack Daniels: I thought we had an understandin'? I thought we would both help each other out? Well, ya let me down in a big way Sunday night. Now, I'm gonna let ya down in a way ya never thought...
(HUH? What the hell is up with Daniels? He's...TALKING TO THE BOTTLE OF OLD NO.7?! Daniels has obviously got some issues. Daniels turns the bottle and is about to start pouring it out when a young guy walks up to him and speaks...)
Young Guy: HOLY SHIT! IT'S JACK DANIELS! Wow...I'm a huge fan of yours Jack.
Jack Daniels: Oh really?
Young Guy: Yeah. And it would mean the world to me if maybe, just maybe I could take a swig from that very bottle of Old No.7 that you have in your hands.
(Daniels hands the young fan the bottle as he takes a swig from it. He enjoys the swig and you'd think he just won a million bucks from the smile on his face. He hands the bottle back to Daniels who puts it down to sign an autograph for the fan.)
Young Guy: Thank a lot Jack. Oh and by the way good luck in your match against Bazooka Joe this Monday night.
(The fan turns around to go about his own business when Daniels picks that bottle back up and begins emptying out it's contents? What the hell is he doing? Daniels is emptying out the contents of that bottle of Old No.7. Tha fan sees this and is outraged. He rips up Daniel's autograph and storms out of the bar. Daniels takes the empty bottle and sits over in a dark corner of the bar at a table. He places the empty bottle of Old No.7 at one end of the table, sitting across from it. Daniels begins speakingin the direction if the bottle...)
Jack Daniels: This ain't fair. This is complete and utter bullshit. I mean after everything that has gone down this past week, no one has been through more than Jack Daniels. Losin' at his own match at FEAR in Riker's Island. Bein' humiliated and outdone by a convicted felon. Bein' jumped and beaten and damn near raped by prison inmates. Electra has left my side and I have lost all my faith...all my confidence in my only supporter out there...my Ol' No.7. And after all of that, as if things couldn't get any fuckin' worse, Jack Daniels has to fight Bazooka Joe. That just ain't fair. What do ya think? (Daniels looks dead straight at the bottle of Old No.7 as if waiting for a response.) Tell me 'bout it. I know, I already beat BJ, not once but twice. Yeah you're right, it was a title defense. Boy, ya remember a lot, don't ya. (Daniels is actually having a conversation with that empty bottle of Old No.7! I think the drunken bastard has lost it.) So what do ya think my chances of beatin' this bastard for a third straight time are? WHAT?! Ya think the third time is gonna be a charm for that Nazi bastard? Ah...who asked ya anyway?
Ah, who am I kiddin'? Maybe you're right for a change. I mean look at me...look at me. Jack Daniels has never been weaker than this ever in his drunken life. I let a sorry bastard like Hailey get into my head and fuck with it, and now look at what it's done to me. If Bazooka Joe is anything like he was at FEAR, then I'm gonna be in for a long night. Did ya see him last week? He completely got down and nast with Spencer. BJ is fuckin' sick. Who knows what kind of mood he's gonna be in this wee and what he's gonna do to Jack Daniels. (Listening to the empty bottle) Yeah, I hope he doesn't bring those gloves he had at Fear withhim this week either. That wouldn't be good at all. He already cut a promo? Damn, that bastard. Wait a second, hoe do ya know he cut a promo already with a bunch of past footage and clips? I KNEW IT! (Obviously still talking to that empty bottle) YOU'RE A BAZOOKA JOE MARK...AREN'T YA?! That's it, I'm not talkin' to ya for the rest of the night. Ya get my confidence and my hopes all down cuz ya want BJ to win. Forget ya, I'll just talk to this guy here with the camera.
(Daniels turns his back on the empty bottle of Old No.7 and looks at the camera and begins speaking...)
Jack Daniels: BJ, Jack Daniels doesn't know what's runnin' through your mind...nor does he care. Just in case ya haven't noticed already, I got 'nuff shit runnin' through my mind. And the last thing I need now is to be worryin' 'bout your Nazi ass BJ. So ya know what? For the first time in my career...in my fuckin' life BJ, I just don't care. Yeah ya heard me right Joe...Jack Daniels just doesn't give two shits 'bout our match this Monday night. Now don't blow your load just yet there Colonel Cocksucker. I ain't sayin' that I'm not gonna bother showin' up to that very ring Monday night. Ya see, Jack Daniels never backs down from a challenge...never has and quite frankly...never will. I will be in that ring on Monday and I will give ya a fight like never 'fore. But ya see BJ, I just don't give a flyin' fuck if I win or lose. All my career, that has been all I worried 'bout. Winnin' this match and winnin' that match...winnin' this title and winnin' that title. And for what? For what? So I can brag 'bout it every single week when it's time to cut a promo 'gainst my fuckin' opponent? Ya held the NEWF Television Title for over 3 months. I held the NEWF Heavyweight Title for a little over 2 months. Does that change anythin'? Does that change how my size thirteen boot is gonna go straight up your Nazi ass? Nope...not by a fuckin' longshot.
Ya might as well chalk up that victory on your win loss record right now BJ, cuz Jack Daniels ain't lookin' to win. What is a win anyway? I mean, it's all numbers that go down on a piece of fuckin' paper. The paper doesn't fight though, does it? Daniels turns his head and looks back at the empty bottle)Shutup...I wasn't talkin' to ya. (Turns back around and looks into the camera) The paper doesn't throw the punch or deliver the Lynchburg Lo-Down...I DO! The impact of my puch is behind my fists...not that little piece of paper that holds all those statistics that only damn gamblers are interested in. Maybe it's a matter of pride to ya BJ. But not to Jack Daniels...not anymore. My pride has been flushed down the toilet with a pile of piss and shit. So why even bother huh? Why even bother steppin' in that ring and take on Bazooka Joe? Cuz I got nuttin' better to do. I gotta take out my aggravation...my anger out on somebody or something. And it's not gonna be the liquor. It's not gonna be Electra. And it's not gonna be myself. No...from here on in, Jack Daniels is just gonna put everythin' aside and whoop ass like only he can. But not to win, or mark it on some piece of fuckin' paper or even gloat 'bout it. He's gonna do it, cuz that's what Jack Daniels loves to do...whoop ass.
That's right BJ, there's a win waitin' right here for ya. There's no catch. All ya have to do is show your ugly mug and step in that ring and take an ass whoopin' from Jack Daniels. Just think 'bout it BJ, after Monday night, ya'll get to brag to everyone 'bout how ya actually beat Jack Daniels in a physically and mentally weakened and torubled state. Congratulations bitch...ya finally did it.
(And with that, the scene fades to black...)