Dun dun dun dun........

My name is Brian Campbell, a 22 year old guy living out of a small apartment in Wayne, NJ. I recently graduated Rutgers University and started working for a small time sport agency. It’s a nice little gig, pays the bills and involves me with the sporting world. I’ve always been a sports nut; playing football, basketball, baseball and wrestling all my life. Although my true passion has and always will be wrestling. My father had me watching the WWF since before I can remember so I basically grew up on the product. It was what influenced me to take up wrestling as a sport in grammar school; though competitive wrestling is quite different from the WWF/E I would always imagine myself in the ring battling it out for the World Championship. I apparently had a knack for the ancient Greek pastime, because I went on to win a few state championships and wrestle for two years at college before I tore my left Achilles tendon. I moved on and lived out my fantasies by watching my idols on TV, always wishing, always dreaming.
Fast forward to the present. I’m standing backstage at what seems to be an ICW show. What the hell was ICW? How the hell did I get here? How did my body take on this kind of physique overnight? I tried filing through my memory to find the latest recollection before this strange turn of events, but all I found was a thick haze of uncertainty. All I knew was that I was expected to walk out from behind that curtain shortly and put on a match with “the new World Champion”. Okay, maybe this all didn’t make sense but I’m living out a dream right now. I’m going to go with the flow and see where I drift to.

Bear nudged me hard on my left side with his sledgehammer sized elbow. His gaze didn’t waver from the monitor to our left, that viewed the ring surrounded by the massive sea of fans all screaming in anticipation.

“Here we go kid, Dragon’s about to go out and cut his promo. Remember to work the crowd a lot while you’re out there. We want Dragon to get a lot of heat and build up his heel image. If you work this right, you could get pretty over as a face in just one match.”

I just soaked everything in. Red Dragon strolled out to a chorus of boos and cries of dismay. He began to berate the audience, fan base, roster, staff, basically the entire world with a barrage of beautifully crafted insults. His word play was unbelievable and the crowd ate it with an angered fury. He went on to thank everyone for the hate that he used to fuel himself to where he was now, the champion. I was astounded at how well he worked himself over, and became nervous to go out there with him. Finally it rang forth,

“You know what? I’m feeling a bit generous tonight, consider this an open challenge. Whoever has the guts to come out to this ring and face me, by all means! Please bring me a challenge, I’d like to at least break a sweat, the Champion has to stay in shape you know!”

I didn’t need to be told, I knew it was my turn for an entrance. I stalked my way towards the curtain and before I could step out I was stopped by a backstage worker. He didn’t say a word, but instead held up five fingers and began to count down. When no more fingers stood, he gave me an overly emphasized thumbs up and music blew out across the arena. Ladies and Gentlemen by Saliva. Well, I can live with that as a theme song. I walked out and was met with a lot of cheering, actually. For some one unknown to the audience, they sure did seem happy to see me. I jumped around a little, banged on my chest, got the crowd more and more into it. When I got into the ring, Dragon was waiting, none too impressed. He got right up in my face and asked,

“And who in the hell do you think you are?”

“My name is Brian. Brian Shamrock.”