Dave Harley

(There is a certain bite to his voice. A certain sharpness that could remind someone of the rattle of a rattlesnake. A warning, if you will.)

I want to be perfectly clear on this.

You've become one of the most reknown superstars in the WWA.

You've won title after title after title.

(Smoke starts to rise from the lit cigar resting on his desk, encompassing him in a thick fog that dances in fron of his face with every inhale and exhale he gives, then...)

You brought the Extreme back to the GenX title.

You brought excitment back to the tag titles.

You brought a name to the IC title.

And one day, you will bring your legacy to the WWA World Title.

(he disappears in it, only leaving a vague silhouette as he reclines backwards in his executive chair.)

But not until you get past me.

(And from this thick fog, a hand reaches up, swiping something from the desk.)

It's ironic, Dave, if you think about it.

(Followed by the sound of a magazine being rustled through)

WHen I first came here, a man named Kade Williams warned me about a glass ceiling in the WWA.

"You're good, but you'll never break through it", he said. "There are too many people holding the up-and-comers down."

Two years later and look at me.

I'm the benchmark.
I'm the glass ceiling.

No one gets to the next level until they get past ME.

(The rustling stops. Ian leans forward, emerging from the thick smoke as it peels itself away from his face)

Kash didn't get his run until he got past me.

THorne never COULD get past me and it resulted in one of the most laughable reigns since Denrol's 3 day run.

Sanders has never been the same since he smashed head first into the ceiling.

How will you do?

(Ian picks up the burning cigar and takes a long, slow pull form it. The smoke drizzles from his mouth as he speaks)

You need to understand one thing, Harley. THis isn't 'An Evening at the Improv."

This isn't a stand-up comedy routine. Or a Laurel and Hardy episode. You'll need to find a new place inside yourself if you even want to come close.

(Ian takes one more pull before disappearing back into the thick white smoke)

A place that you just dont' have.

You've made your career playing off of a man that talks to a belt. It's sorta cliched, but you've turned yourself into a living, breathing, Human Muppet.

A laughable shell of what you COULD be.

(THen *THUD* he tosses a Magazine onto the desk. An old magazine at that. One from the old Euroamerican Wrestling Association. And on the cover...WWA's own Dave Harley, or Dave Deadly as it were)

What happened to Dave Deadly in old EWA? The one that participated in the WIndy City Street Fight, one of the more brutal matches I ever saw?

Where did he go? Where is he hiding? Are you afraid of him now, Dave? Are you scared of what he may do?

THe fact is, Dave. When you started pandering to the fans, you lost your darkness. You lost your killer instinct. You lost the 'Deadly' in Dave Deadly.

And now you are about to figure out exactly how badly it is going ot effect you.

(Suddenly a digital version of "Prince of Darkness' rings out, accompanied by a faint blue glow obviously a cellphone)

You're not stepping in the ring with an Enigma, or a Lockdown, or a Leviathan, Zion, Curzon, Joey K, Matt Keith, LeTrav, Sanders, SEAL, or Sommers.

(ring ring)

No.

(ring ring)

You are stepping in the ring with the one man that can claim he RULED this whole goddamned federation for the better part of one year.

(ring ring)

You are stepping into the ring with a living, breathing, legend.

(ring ring)

And you know what?

(He fumbles for the phone)

All those *beep*ing jokes, and gags that you've been jumping through hoops for a little bit of a giggle from the fans for the past year or so...

(And opens it up, looking at the number. A small grin comes over his face)

THey are ALL about to come crashing down on top of you.

(Fade)