(Jack Daniels?! What’s going on here? Why don’t we find out as Daniels has made his way and is now behind the podium…)

Jack Daniels: Hey, my name is Jack Daniels.

Everyone: (in unison) Hi Jack Daniels.

Jack Daniels: Yeah, well anyway ya see, this drunken bastard has got himself a problem.

Director: Well then Jack, you came to the right place. Why don’t you tell us your problem.

Jack Daniels: Well ya see, Jack Daniels has got himself a bout this Sunday night. But not just any match…it’s a lot more significant than the others.

Director: Ah, a bout. So that’s what you like to call it. Please continue Jack.

Jack Daniels: Yeah, what else would ya like this drunken bastard to call it?

Director: Many people can’t be up front with their problem, so it is very common of them to stereotype it in a way they are comfortable with. As for you Jack, you like to think of it as a match or a bout, because in a way that’s what it is.

Jack Daniels: Alrighty then, whatever ya say lady. Anyway, this drunken bastard has got himself, not just any match, but a Heavyweight Title match at the Pay Per View this Sunday night. And the last thing Jack Daniels wants to do here is walk outta the Fleet Center without any gold.

Director: Ah, so your little "bout" with alcohol is what’s makin’ this so called match of yours a problem here huh?

Jack Daniels: Bout with alcohol? What the hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout lady?

Director: It’s ok Jack. It is very common to not be able to admit it in front of others and deny. Having a drinking problem is not very easy to admit, especially to yourself.

Jack Daniels: Who said anythin’ ‘bout a drinkin’ problem?

Drector: Well you did, you said you had a bout with alcohol.

Jack Daniels: Hell lady, I think ya need to get the cotton outta your ears cuz this drunken said he had himself a bout…a match. He doesn’t have himself a drinkin’ problem.

Director: Then why are you here?

Jack Daniels: Cuz the sign on the door said "How to solve your problems the right way." And this drunken bastard has got a problem. He has a title match at the PPV this Sunday ‘gainst that sneaky sunuva bitch TME. I need help in knowin’ how not to get screwed outta the title by this greasy bastard.

Director: Well then, you don’t have a drinkin’ problem?

Jack Daniels: NO!

Director: You say you don’t have a drinking problem, yet you call yourself Jack Daniels and refer to yourself as a drunken bastard?

Jack Daniels: Yeah lady, how many time must this drunken bastard tell ya?

Director: Ah, I see what your problem is.

Jack Daniels: ‘Bout damn time.

Director: Denial. You need to pass the denial stage.

Jack Daniels: What? Jack Daniels doesn’t need to pass no denial stage. What Jack Daniels needs to do is to find out a way to beat TME without getting’ royally screwed just like each and every one of his other opponents.

Director: Then why are you here? This is an AA meeting.

Jack Daniels: AA meeting? So this drunken bastard has been wastin’ all of his damn time here with a bunch of alcoholics that can’t do a damn thing ‘bout The Drunk One’s title match this week against TME? Oh that’s just great.

(Daniels seems annoyed as he steps away from the podium. But before he leaves, he pulls out a bottle of Old No.7 from his pocket, but not your typical bottle. He pulls out a flask size bottle of it out and chugs it all down. Everyone in there is staring at him. When he’s done, he throws it down to the ground and leaves the room. As the bottle hits the ground, quite a few people in the room lunge out in the direction of the bottle to get that very last drop of liquor that seems to never wanna come out of the bottle. The camera keeps following Daniels until he’s outside and begins speaking once again…)

Jack Daniels: Damn lushes, can’t even help a drunken bastard out with his problems. I got myself a huge title match here against TME, and they can’t even lend a helpin’ hand. Shit, a bit of advice would even do, but nooooo, that’s too much thinkin’ for ‘em assholes. But that’s quite alright. Ya know why? Cuz TME is predictable. Jack Daniels knows his style and Jack Daniels knows what the bastard is gonna do ‘fore he can even think it. What TME, ya think your shit don’t stink? Well maybe ya better stop for a second and take yourself ‘nother whiff cuz this drunken bastard can smell that shit from here. Week after week after damn week it’s a screwjob here and a screwjob there. Well not this week TME. Not ‘gainst Jack Daniels. Ya can bring every woman from your past life that ya want, oh wait, that’s still just one…axe that example. Ya can bring every fuckin’ Canadian in existence down to the ring to screw with Jack Daniels, but it just ain’t gonna work cuz Jack Daniels is on top of things here.

Nice try TME, real nice try. Ya gather ‘round a bunch of bums, hand ‘em all some notepads and some cameras and call them the press. Yeah, this drunken bastard is sure that a world renown paper like the New York Times really gives two shits ‘bout a sorry sunuva bitch like yourself TME. And where did ya learn to talk like that? Where were ya this past Sunday? Was your sorry ass in…Church? Or were you catchin’ up with your weekly Bible readin’? Hell, actually this drunken bastard caught up on some bible readin’ himself earlier today. Let me recite ya a little piece here…

The Drunk One confined himself in thee local tavern…thee tavern was now in thee midst of Happy Hour…The Drunk One partake in Happy Hour…as he subjected his body to the holy water, Oldeth No.7. Thee fellow patrons in thee tavern were troubled at this site…And Piss Drunketh Pete said, Drunk One, if it be thou, then let myself partake in thee holy water. Piss Drunketh Pete did so, and fell straight on his holy ass. And then, Wasted Will cometh forth…and said, Drunk One, I will partake in the holy water, and I will handle it…Wasted Will did do, then he too fell straight on his holy ass… (Drunk 24:7)

Ya see TME, real alcoholics who can handle their liquor may come and go, but none will ever surpass their one true leader…The Drunk One…The Whole Drunken Show…The man who drinks more liquor just to fuck ya up quicker…Jack Daniels. Ya wanna talk ‘bout legacy? Ya wanna sit here and talk to this drunken bastard ‘bout legacy? First bitch, what ya need to do is sit down, grab yourself a good book…hmmm, how ‘bout that one written by Webster…the dictionary if ya will, and look up the word legacy ‘fore ya sit here and tell Jack Daniels ‘bout legacy. And don’t be surprised when ya see a picture of this drunken bastard next to the word legacy. 18 different titles in 7 seven federations. And not your low end feds that scout up their talent from elementary schools and in cardboard boxes behind the warehouses downtown. Jack Daniels is talkin’ ‘bout federations with the best talent to ever grace this industry. Over 130 victories, and not over the Joe Lemons and the Serpent Men that ya have continuously beat on to inflate your ego even more. I’m talkin’ ‘bout wins over guys like SmirtDogg…someone ya never beat. Jublome, someone ya never beat. Richards…someone ya never beat. Ya see a pattern formin’ here TME? Ya see, ya never could and quite frankly, never will, be able to beat the likes of those just mentioned. That’s why the mere thought of mentionin’ those names makes ya feel like pukin’. But this drunken bastard has beaten them time and time ‘gain. Legacy…TME: not in this fuckin’ lifetime…Jack Daniels: Oh HELL YEAH!

(Daniels walks by a convenient store. He stops for a second and walks inside as he continues speaking…)

Damn, just thinkin’ ‘bout a dirty sunuva bitch like TME has given this drunken bastard a headache. Where the hell is an employee when ya need one? (turns to an employee) Where do ya keep your Tylenol?

Employee: Third aisle, to your right.

(Daniels makes his way there as he walks down the aisle lookin’ for Tylenol.)

Jack Daniels: Huh, looks like TME has been here already. Look, they’re out of Nyquil.

(Grabs his bottle of Tylenol and walks back up to the employee.)

Jack Daniels: Hey, what happened to all your Nyquil?

Employee: Some freak wearing a white robe and walking around with a bible came in here and bought it all. I asked him what is was all for, and he yelled at me and called me a typical, nosy American.

Jack Daniels: Could that be anymore TME? (Daniels pays for his Tylenol and leaves the store as he continues speaking…) TME, who are ya foolin’? First ya think ya got people into actually thinkin’ you’re some role model…some legacy, which in fact you’re far from that…very fuckin’ far. Now ya got yourself thinkin’ your some sort of religious figure everyone looks up to? Hell, maybe Spencer buys into your little act, cuz quite frankly he doesn’t know any better. I mean look at who taught the sorry bastard. Ya see TME, ya keep fillin’ your empty head with all these lies and beliefs until the point where ya actually start believin’ ‘em. And the more and more ya keep doin’ this, the more the reality is gonna hurt when it’s revealed. Ya see, ya think that Jack Daniels uses his Ol’ No.7 as a crutch, somethin’ to blame his losses on. But that’s what ya think. Unlike my Ol’ No.7, your beliefs and infatuation with religious figures provides ya with a false sense of identity. It makes ya believe that ya rise ‘bove the rest, when in fact ya sink lower than the dirt. Ya see, this drunken bastard had nuttin’ else to turn to but his liquor. It doesn’t provide me with a false sense identity like ya. The truth hurts…don’t it TME? But not as much as this ass whoopen Jack Daniels has in store for ya is gonna hurt.

Ya see TME, what ya don’t understand is just how much Jack Daniels has busted his ass over the past few years. This drunken bastard has fought for titles, for tournament victories, for bottles of Ol’ No.7, for his career…hell Jack Daniels has fought for his fuckin’ life on the cliffs of the Grand Canyon. And yeah, he was thrown off, but yet he managed to come back and still whoop ass like the drunken bastard he is. Like ya said TME, what doesn’t kill ya only makes ya that much stronger. And now, this Sunday at Boston Massacre, we both fight for the one prize everyone in this sport wants…the NEWF Heavyweight Title. And only one man can have it. Well hell, I guess that automatically eliminates ya TME, cuz quite frankly, ya ain’t no man. Nah, you’re a pathetic, dirty, lyin’ sunuva bitch that has an ego bigger than this drunken bastard’s liver…and we all know that’s gotta be fuckin’ huge. And after Sunday night is all said and done…TME, ya will know just why…

Just why…

And just why…

Oh and TME, don’t feel so bad when your ass gets beat like it has never ‘fore by a drunken bastard. It won’t be the first case…and it sure as hell won’t be the last…

Till then…MOTHERFUCKER!

(And with that, the scene fades to black…)