*The scene opens and we find ourselves out on the streets of Seattle. THe camera zooms in on one Jack Daniels walking down the street. Suprisingly, Daniels doesn't have himself his usual bottle of Old No.7. Has Daniels given up drinking again? This tends to happen when Daniels hits a low point and has a match of serious importance coming up. I don't like the looks of this.*
Jack Daniels: What in the hell is this drunken bastard doin'? That's the question everyone has been askin' 'bout Jack Daniels. Look at me...just fuckin' look at me. Evrythin' started off great. Jack Daniels was winnin' gold, and even more importantly, Jack Daniels was winnin' matches. Jack Daniels was a part of Absolute Power. Now...now everythin' has just crumbled away. No gold. Couldn't win 'gainst a fuckin' mannequin. And Absolute Power...is absolutely gone. My drunken legacy is all but dead. Now what? Tell me, now what the fuck is it that Jack Daniels does?
Ya might think that this is a golden opportunity for this drunken bastard to call it quits. And ya know what? Ya just may be right.
*What the...say it ain't so Jack. This can't be true. Jack Daniels calling it quits? Jack Daniels never stepping into a squared circle again? Jack Daniels never taking another swig from a bottle of Old No.7 again? That's just too hard to imagine. Daniels takes a few more steps until he stops and turns and walks through a door. What the...Daniels is in a liquor store. He walks down an aisle and grabs a bottle of Old No.7. He opens it and takes a swig.*
Jack Daniels: Ya know, there's a valuable lesson to be learned here...never listen to Jack Daniels when he hasn't had any Ol' No.7. Quittin'? QUITTIN'? Not in my drunken lifetime. And now...especially now with the golden opportunity put up for grabs to earn yourself a World Title shot? Here, maybe ya bastards need this Old No.7 more than I do. But to get that golden opportunity...one first needs to get that Golden Ticket. And if I know Edwards 'nuff, I know just how to find it.
*Suddenly Daniels peels off the label from the bottle of Old No.7 and is looking underneath it. Nothing there. Daniels grabs another bottle of Old No.7 and peels off that label. Nothing again. Daniels grabs another and peels it off. No golden ticket. Daniels ain't quitting that easily though as he starts peeling off each and every label of Old No.7. Finally the store clerk approaches Daniels.*
Clerk: Excuse me sir, but what are you doing?
Jack Daniels: What does it look like I'm doin'?
Clerk: It looks like you're peeling off the labels from the bottles of Old No.7 for some stupid reason.
Jack Daniels: STUPID REASON?! Ya call goin' for the Golden Ticket stupid? What the hell is wrong with ya son?
Clerk: Golden Ticket?
Jack Daniels: No...it's Golden Ticket.
Clerk: Oh, the Golden Ticket. So what's so special about...wait a second. It's not like the Golden Ticket from that Willy Wonka movie, is it?
Jack Daniels: In a way...
Clerk: *LaughingWhat, if ya find the ticket to ya get to go on a tour of the Jack Daniel's Distillery or something?
Jack Daniels: First off jackass, this drunken bastard was bron at the Distillery. Why in the hell would I need a tour or the damn place? And even if that was the case, I'd suck the distillery dry, there'd be no liquor left after a visit from Jack Daniels. So just do me a favor...shut your trap and start peelin' off the labels. I need this Golden Ticket. Even better, go in the back and bring out all of the other bottles of Old No.7.
*The store clerk goes off into the back. Daniels shakes his head and begins drinking away. Daniels peels off a few more labels and continues speaking.*
Jack Daniels: Ya know, when ya stop and think 'bout it, Jack Daniels really has nuttin' to lose and everythin' to gain here. Jack Daniels has done asbolutely jack shit since losin' the tag titles. My record is one that's starting to look like Joe Lemon's. I'm becomin' easier than a two cent Vietnamese hooker. And ya know the most disturbin' part of all this? I really didn't even give two shits. And as a matter of fact, I still don't. Nuttin' was comin' my way. Edwards wasn't plannin' on givin' this drunken bastard any title shots or any money matches. Well I guess know, ya really don't have a fuckin' choice, do ya Edwards? Even if Jack Daniels has to rip off every single last label of Ol' No.7 on this fuckin' planet to get that Golden Ticket...then Jack Daniels will do just that.
Ya know, Jack Dnaiels has been in the NWF since the near beginnin'. Every week...every night Jack Daniels would bust his ass and give it all he fuckin' had. That's a lot more than what most others have done for the NWF. Whether I lost or won, it didn't change just how much I busted my drunken ass in the next match. Now tell me...bein' the hardest fuckin' worker this industry has ever seen...bein' the most accomplished sunuva bitch this industry has ever seen...bein' the livin' legend that I am, ya would think once...JUST FUCKIN' ONCE I would be given a World Title shot. But was I? Was Jack Daniels ever given a World Title here in the NWF? Let's see, US title shot...check. Tag Team title shot...check. Hardcore title and TV title...didn't even want anythin' to do with 'em. World Title shot...no no, it was a NON-title shot. How the fuck do ya think that makes me feel Edwards? The fact that I've been 'round since the third week this fed opened...wrestled every fuckin' week 'cept for one...and wasn't even considered for a World Title shot. Jack Daniels helped build this piece of shit fed. The illustrious name of Jack Daniels put asses in those seats, postive numbers in those ratings and money in your fuckin' pocket. And not only can ya not give this drunken legend a title shot...but ya can't even say Thank Ya Jack. Than ya Jack for the memories...for all the dame liquor. To that I say...
Fuck Ya Edwards...FUCK YA!
Now you're just willin' to hand out this title shot to anyone who pulls out some fuckin' miracle outta their ass one night and falls on some luck and wins a tournament. Ya realize that some jackass like Weinstein, or Arwich or Boden or Yorke can walk away with this if they have 'nuff horseshoes stuck up their asses and perhaps walk away as the new NWF World Champ? Not very marketable champions Edwards. but besides that, how do ya think that would make someone like Jack Daniels, who has worked his ass off for an opportunity at the title, feel? Or even someone like Evan Douglas who deserves just as much as this drunken bastard does? Edwards, you're quickly becomin' a target to get his ass whooped by just 'bout everyone on your roster. And this drunken bastard couldn't blame a single one of 'em for doin' so.
*Finally, the clerk comes out from the back covered with labels of Old No.7 and bare bottles.*
Clerk: I got nothing man. No Golden Ticket. Might wanna try the liquor store down a few blocks.
*Daniels grabs a bottle of Old No.7 and heads out the store and back down the street again.*
Jack Daniels: Ya see, it's people like Edwards that really piss me off. He could never realize just how lucky he is to have someone like Jack Daniels workin' for him. There's no one else out there lookin' for this Golden Ticket like Jack Daniels is. Everyone else is just sittin' back and waitin' for it to come to 'em. Well not this drunken bastard. He wants it soooo fuckin' bad...he's willin' to tear up the label that brings pride and honor to Jack Daniels. However, I'm not willin' to give up drinkin', cuz let's face it, this drunken bastard will never give it up. In the same sense, Edwards could never give up bein' an asshole, cuz well, he just is, plain and simple.
*Daniels walks through another door, this time to another liquor store. As he walks in the stroe clerk speaks to him.*
Clerk: Can I help ya?
Jack Daniels: Yeah, get this drunken bastard all the Ol' No.7 ya got. And when Jack Daniels says all of it he means all of it, from the front, from the shelves, from the back...ALL OF IT!
Clerk: Oh no...not you again. You're not gonna try to drink all that liquor again, are you?
Jack Daniels: I don't try...I just do it. But this time, believe it or not, I'm not here to drink it. I'm just here to peel off all the labels and look for the Golden Ticket.
Clerk: Golden Ticket?
Jack Daniels: No no, you're the second person to do that today, it's Golden Ticket.
Clerk: Oh I see. What do you win? A tour of the Jack...
Jack Daniels: Don't even go there. Just get the damn bottles jerky. *The clerk goes off to the back to search for the bottles as Daniels starts peeling the ones off of the shelves.* Why does every damn liquor store employee think they know everythin'...especially when it comes to Jack Daniels and his Ol' No.7?
It somewhat reminds Jack Daniels of what everyone else thinks of him and exactly what they say. Ya know, that's what makes everyone single last one in the NWF, and every single last one in this tourney all but the same. Ya all think this drunken bastard is nuttin' but a drunk...a lush...a fuckin' bum. Ya all think Jack Daniels is done for and needs to retire cuz he's too old. That's where all ya unoriginal bastards are all wrong. I'm in just as good as shape as I was in when I first broke into this business, if not better. My mind is just as drunk which makes me just as dangerous. And my name still stands at the top with some of the other greats. Ya all just want to rid this fed of the only livin' legend left in this business. Ya all want to make a name for yourselves and one day hope to surpass Jack Daniels. Well good fuckin' luck jackasses, cuz the only way ya'll ever get rid of Jack Daniels and his legacy is if ya fuckin' kill him. And only the true marks know just exactly how to do that. Otherwise you're all just gonna have to live with it for the rest of your pathetic lives.
*The store clerk comes out fromthe back with Old No.7 labels all ripped up and all over him, in his hair, on his clothes, coming out of his ears and nose...you get the idea.*
Clerk: No Golden Ticket here.
Jack Daniels: GODAMNIT! Alright, I'll hit the next liquor store then. It's gotta be 'round here somewhere.
*Daniels takes a long swig from a bottle of Old No.7 and walks out of the store as he heads for the next liquor store.*
Jack Daniels: Ya see what you've done Edwards...ya have gone and made this just that much harder for this drunken bastard. Rather than handin' him his well deserved World Title shot, you're makin' Jack Daniels work for it for no apparent reason. That's alright though Edwards...that's alright. Cuz ya see, the harder ya make it for this hardcore drunken legend, the more ass he's gonna whoop to get his title shot. Believe me, I ain't stoppin' with the US Title shot...Jack Daniels is goin' all the way for that Golden Ticket. This ain't no golden opportunity for Jack Daniels, it's the opportunity he shoulda had a long time ago. But seein' as how he never got it, he's just gonna have to take it himself.
So evevery other pathetic piece of shit in this tourney better hope they don't come 'cross this drunken bastard cuz if they do...it will most definitely SUCK TO BE THEM!
Till then...MOTHERFUCKERS!
*Daniels spots the next liquor store and walks in the door...*
Jack Daniels: Give me all the Ol' No.7 ya got. Jack Daniels has got a Golden TIcket to find.
*The clerk gives Daniels a weird look as he has no idea what's to come. Daniels starts peeling off the labels as the scene fades to black...*