*The scene opens with a close up of a Caucasian hand forcefully gripping a white cordless telephone. The sound of silence fills the airwaves with the occasional presence of a quivering breath heard in the foreground. The viewers watching from home can see the fingers of the unknown entity twitching as they squeeze the hard plastic. Suddenly, a closed left hand enters the shot inching towards the telephone with its index finger extending out towards the buttons of the hand held device. As the tip of the appendage presses down into one of the buttons, the audio attribute of the clip comes to life with a beep only to be followed by identical subsequent movements. Eventually, the beeping sounds subside and the hand holding the telephone lifts the object upward and nearly out of sight. The microphone portion of the phone is pressed against the defined jawline of an individual whose complete facial features remain unseen. The faint sound of ringing is heard, mixing with that of the deep breaths of the man holding the telephone. The initial view now transformed into that of a close up of the lower portion of the man's face converged with the rigid surface of the device. The individual's lips tighten in anticipation as several rings transpire before being cut off by the silent sound of the completed call. After a couple seconds of dead air, a familiar voice is heard.* "Kersh residence". *The man's mouth opens, but no sound escapes his lips. After a moment of hesitation, the unidentifiable figure closes his mouth to try again but is suddenly paused by the sound of the voice on the other end of the analog line. This time, the voice is heard with the mixed sound of confusion and frustration.** "Hello? Kersh residence!" *Again, the man refuses to respond. His lips remain closed for several seconds. His chin slightly quivering at the situation and his obvious inability to take action. Finally, his lips do move to create a sound.* "Brent . . . " "Yes. This is Brent." "Don't hang up." "Who is this?" "It's Mahmood . . . " *The streaming video of the individuals mouth and chin suddenly become a still frame. Slowly, the image begins to detoriate as pixel by pixel is eliminated from view. During this display of transformation, the sound of the voice of "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh is heard in the background.* And that's where it started. Months earlier Mahmood Ismaili was instrumental in a series of attacks that would ultimately lead to my exit of the Fans Wrestling Federation in addition to the possibility of my impending retirement from the sport of professional wrestling. But somehow, someway . . . over a short period of time Mahmood Ismaili became reborn from his previous life of scandalous corporate bigotry. Reborn in a place known as the Tennessee Championship Wrestling Federation. As fate would have it, Ismaili's newfound commitment to put right what once went wrong and his sudden desire to obtain the federations' tag team championship encouraged him to pick up the telephone and give an old "friend" the opportunity to be reborn himself. Reborn in a place where the superstars of the big cities and the executives of the industry of professional wrestling did not dwell. Reborn in a place where integrity and sportsmanship shined in the eyes of it's inhabitants brighter than any reflection the sight of a gold belt or trophy could achieve. Mahmood was smart to lead with the plea for me to not hang up. He was even smarter to realize that enough time had passed . . . that the rehabilitation to counteract the damage he helped inflict on my knee was complete . . . that Brent Kersh was healthy . . . that Brent Kersh was sitting at home waiting, craving for the opportunity to climb through the ropes of a squared circle once again. When I woke up that morning I had no intentions of answering any call from Mahmood Ismaili. But I did. Both of them. *By the time the former professional wrestler's voice fades from the background, the still frame has disintegrated into a pitch black backdrop and silence fills the airwaves. Suddenly, the screen is brought to life with scrolling images of wrestling competition between MahMood Ismaili, Brent Kersh and various tag team opponents. The shots are similar in that their environments are composed of less than state of the art wrestling rings positioned within the uncomfortable confines of miniature arenas and gymnasiums filled with small crowds dispersed among empty fold up chairs and metal bleachers. Faces familiar to the Tennessee area in addition to a few that are identifiable to the national public flash across the screen in an almost archaic fashion as the voice of "The Enforcer" is heard again.* Tag team matches weren't my favorite. To be honest . . . I never could deal with the mental stress of standing on the outside apron as my partner was in the ring having all of the fun. It had nothing to do with the shared opportunity of victory or defeat, but rather that of competition. How was I suppose to compete if I wasn't in the ring? But if I do recall personal success in the form of tag team competition, I would have to include the run that Mahmood and myself put together in the latter portion of nineteen ninety nine. I guess you could say it was . . . "Tons of Fun"! That's a pun, because Tons of Fun became the first opponents for Mahmood and I. Our first tag team match. Our first tag team victory. First of many. We did well. Better that I had imagined. Murdock and Mullins, Blondie and Fuego, The Tacos, The Wreenkle Brothers, The Cleavers . . . assumingly, they all climbed into the ring to defeat a had been and a never will be, but they all failed. Mahmood and I hung tight when the competition got tough, but eventually our success would run out. We couldn't prove that we could beat Dan Sweeny and Doctor Winston and then The Think Tank proved that they could beat us. It's almost ironic how Jackylfan ended up beating me even when he didn't have to pin me. The truth of the matter is that Ismaili's crusade of righteousness took a major toll on his body and mind and in the end it was Brent Kersh standing alone once again. Standing alone amongst a group of men who looked at me as nothing more than an opportunity to prove that you didn't have to compete in a great environment in order to be a great competitor. *The voice of the Texas native pauses for several seconds as the images of tag team competition quickly shift to that of singles matches involving Kersh. The same format as before follows with identities known mostly to the fans of the Tennessee region are shown in combat against "The Enforcer". The pictures appear and disappear rapidly as a reoccuring theme presents itself to the fans watching from home. Each set of shots highlighting the match between Kersh and his respective opponent ends with a final portrait of "The Enforcer" having his hand raised in victory. This digital display of success continues without pause as the voice of the former Tennessee Championship Wrestling Federation superstar is heard once again in nearly the same monotone sound as before.* Point proven. There's no doubt in my mind that the time I spent in the Tennessee Championship Wrestling Federation was one of the most competitive of my entire professional wrestling career. Those boys shouldn't have had to take a backseat to anyone . . . and they didn't. But neither did I. When I made the decision to return to wrestling at the request of Mahmood Ismaili I had no intentions of using my success in the Fans Wrestling Federation as a cornerstone of my presence in the TCWF. I knew there was work to do and I couldn't wait to put on my boots. Barry Savage, Havok, Doctor Midnight . . . hell none of them cared about who I was or where I came from just who they were and where they were going. None of them were walk overs. None of them were easy. I would like to believe that at some point I became Brent Kersh, the TCWF Superstar, as opposed to Brent Kersh, the FWF Superstar. Ironicallyy enough . . . in my mind . . . that point came at the conclusion of my first defeat in the federation. Four times during my stay in the Tennessee Championship Wrestling Federation I climbed out of the ring without a victory. Three of those times can be directly attributed to a man known as Jackylfan. He ended my undefeated streak. He did it again as I was the World champion. And then one more time with the Championship Wrestling Alliance World Title on the line. Unfortunately that was the last opportunity I had to step into the ring with the man. Oh how I wish I just had another chance to lose to Jackylfan one . . . more . . . time. *The airwaves become silent as the viewers are presented with the closing photographs of the ongoing slide show. Brent Kersh is captured competing at different stages of the contest with well known superstars: Heartbreak Meyers, Father Wolf, and Jackfylfan. The final clip is that of a dejected Kersh as he sits on one knee glancing up at Jackylfan who has his arm raised in victory. With that, the screen is overcome by a sudden darkness that is soon joined by a small caption.* Kersh left shortly afterwards and wrestled in other areas of the country and has never returned to the area again. *Without notice, the view comes to life with an image of of "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh sitting behind a desk. The room is surrounded in shadows with the only light coming from a small lamp sitting at the corner of the structure. Papers appear to be scattered about the desks surface as Brent glances down at one of them in particular with a near disgusted expression on his face. The former professional wrestler is wearing a white undershirt combined with a solid black tie. A black sports coat clings to the edge of the desk just inches away from "The Enforcer's" elbow which is bent to allow him to brace the weight of his forehead with the fingers of his left hand. After aseveral seconds of silence, Kersh lets off a frustrated smirk as he begins to shake his head. Suddenly, the sound of a door is heard in the background and the camera shifts to the left to reveal the enthusiastic smile of one Bib Brady, braodcast journalist and close friend of Kersh, who is wearing a brown business suit. Brady enters the gloomy room without hesitation, but stops just a couple feet through the doorway as the lens of the camera zoom out to capture the broadcast journalist and former professional wrestler in the same shot. Kersh remains fixated in the same position as Brady takes time to further evaluate the situation. Eventually, the broadcast journalist speaks out with a grin.* Bib Brady: Did you hear? *"The Enforcer" lets out a deep sigh and merely shifts his eyes from the desk up to his friend who pauses for a moment before reluctantly explaining his inquiry.* Bib Brady: The Tennessee Wrestling Federation . . . "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh: Yea? Bib Brady: They're putting together a special card. A one time event. *Kersh pauses before allowing his facial expression begins to shift to that of great disdain. With squinted eyes, Brent extends the palm of his right hand as he responds.* "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh: Bib . . . what in the hell does that have to do with The Wrestling Domain? *Brady is visibly taken back by his friends response and hesitates several seconds before speaking again; this time in a less excited tone.* Bib Brady: Well nothing I . . . *The President and Cheif Executive Officer of The Wrestling Domain cuts off Brady and responds in a scolding tone.* "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh: You what Bib? You thought I might be interested? You thought I might want to climb back into the ring one more time? You thought I might be thinking about that as I'm sitting here up to my elbows in a pile of bullshit Patrick Martin has left The Wrestling Domain in? *Brady lets out a deep breath in a disappointing manner, before innocently glancing around the room. Finally, Bib begins to shake his head slightly and rapidly as he speaks out once more.* Bib Brady: No Brent . . . I mean . . . it was just a thought, ya know? I know how much you enjoyed your stay in the Tennessee area and this . . . exhibition match is something I thought . . . well . . . yea . . . my mistake. I apologize. I'll just . . . *With that, Brady drops his chin to his chest and turns from the desk to walk out of the door. As the broadcast journalist makes his way to the doorway, Kersh lets off another sigh before reaching out into mid-air with his right hand as if to will Brady back into the room.* "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh: BIB . . . wait . . . it's my mistake. *Brady's movement is immediately halted and the broadcast journalist peers back over his left shoulder with a small grin.* "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh: I'm letting all this stuff get the best of me. Come on back in . . . let's talk about this "one time event". *Bib Brady turns again to face "The Enforcer"; his smile visible through the shadows that seem to immediately grow darker as he approaches the desk. Eventually, the screen becomes pitch black only to instantly shine with an image of Kersh seated on what appears to be a metal fold up chair in front of a dark blue backdrop. "The Enforcer" is wearing a loose black Texas A&M tee shirt along with a pair of white Nike gym shorts, and white Nike sports shoes that extend up his ankle just below his sock line. Kersh is leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands locked together between the fingers. "The Enforcer's" eyes rest on the concrete floor beneath his feet displaying only the top of his head to the camera. This image is revealed for the first several seconds of filming, before Brent slowly lifts his face to the camera.* "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh: What can I say? I'm a sucker for comebacks. I'm not going to lie to you Jamie Krenshaw. When Bib Brady told me about the Tennessee Wrestling Federation's "One Night Stand" event, I had visions of Brent Kersh standing toe to toe with Jackylfan racing through my mind. It's nothing personal. I'm sure "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh wasn't a name on the top of your list of people you'd like to step into the squared circle with either. But we have to play the hand we're dealt, don't we Jamie? It's just that I wanted to be honest with you. That I wanted to be "up front". Don't let that honesty confuse you though. What's done is done and it's time to move on. I will step into the ring on Sunday May Third, Two Thousand Nine and without a shadow of doubt I will be ready to give Jamie Krenshaw anything and everything that I would have be prepared to give Jackylfan. Of course, I'm going to assume that you would have it no other way. Then again, I suppose I'm leaving myself open for the possibility of disaster by assuming, aren't I? But what a better opportunity for two guys known to the fans of the Tennessee region to climb into the ring and give back a portion of what the sport of professional wrestling has given to us? The area, the federation, the people . . . all of them deserve Jamie Krenshaw versus Brent Kersh even if it means for just one more night. Let's not disappoint anyone Jamie. Let's not hold anything back. Let's give them exactly what they're expecting. Let's give them a fight . . . TENNESSEE STYLE!!! *Kersh addes emphasis to his final statement by curling his upper lip to create an intense expression. With his voice gone from the airwaves, Brent maintains his glare on the lens of the camera for several seconds of motionless silence. Eventually, "The Enforcer" regains his composure and speaks out in a calm tone.* "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh: Jamie Krenshaw versus Brent Kersh was never meant to be in the Tennessee Championship Wrestling Federation or the Championship Wrestling Alliance. On second thought, I guess it was never meant to be in Big Time Wrestling or the Fans Wrestling Federation either. It's almost as if we existed in two different eras, Jamie. When you were one place I was another and by the time you had showed up in the TWF . . . I was long gone. But from what I can gather, the fans liked ya. The guys in the back respected ya. There's not much I can argue with in those attributes. What makes me wonder . . . what makes me think . . . is the inquisition of "what kind of competitor are ya"? And when I ask the question I'm not asking about your wrestling "style". I'm not wondering about your strengths and weaknesses. It has nothing to do with your tendancies and variables. I just want to know how far you're willing to go to hear that final bell ring and feel your hand being raised in victory? No, no. Don't tell me Jamie. Don't waste your time, ya see . . . that's the fun of it. THAT'S the prize. That's why it's "OK" that Brent Kersh is facing Jamie Krenshaw instead of Jackfylfan. That's why you can expect the same out of me as anyone else has, does, or will. THAT . . . is what it's all about to "The Enforcer". What's the answer? I'm gonna find out soon enough and likewise, you're gonna find out something yourself Jamie. Just like everyone else has in the past. When that final bell rings. Whether win, lose, or draw . . . you will know that I mean what I say when I say, "The Enforcer" will fight until I can fight no more. *"The Enforcer" nods confidently in the direction of the camera as he finishes his sentence. His fingers unlocking to allow the palms of his hands to rub together as he glances back to the floor. It isn't but split seconds later, that Kersh returns his stare to the camera and begins speaking in a composed manner.* "The Enforcer" Brent Kersh: You know I can remember sitting in the Fans Wrestling Federation locker rooms and hearing about the happenings of Big Time Wrestling. Of course the majority opinion in that venue did not favor BTW, but I always wondered about the validity of those claims. Ya see Jamie, I'm the type of guy that puts a lot of stock in not talking about what you're going to do, but doing it. And when I look at what I know about Jamie Krenshaw, there isn't much there for me to doubt. BTW World Champion. The definition of that moniker is quite simple. You've been the best among those with which you've competed. In the Tennessee Wrestling Federation you had one of the longest Television Championship reigns in the history of the title. What's that mean? It means you're as good today as you were yesterday and as you will be tomorrow. I like that. That's important. Finally, you held one half of the TWD Tag Team Championship . . . and you helped beat a great team to do it. Not to appear selfish by any means, but . . . that's something that I failed at. So the credentails are there. You've got nothing to prove to me Krenshaw, but like I said . . . nobody usually does. I'm bringing you my best at "One Night Stand", because that's all I've got. It's either going to be enough or it's not, but above all else if by chance Brent Kersh is declared the victor at the sound of the final bell . . . I want to know that I beat the best that Jamie Krenshaw had to offer. And there's not much more you can "say" about that. The countdown . . . has begun. *Kersh stands to his feet as he utters the last word, looking into the camera with an ICE COLD stare. Without hesitation, Brent points a steady finger into the direction of the lens; holding his position for several seconds before returning to a normal composure and turning to walk out of view. The viewers are left with an empty seat and blue backdrop before the screen slowly begins to fade to black. Once darkness controls the view, an image of "The Enforcer" appears and then the scene pans to a commercial for the Tennessee Wrestling Federation Event, "One Night Stand".*