(The scene opens and we find ourselves inside the very site that will hold perhaps the EWA's greatest night in it's history, The reopening of the EWA has created a buzz within the wrestling world and all that buzzing is over the huge main event match that is planned for it's reopening night. sure the rest of the card is packed with some great matches, but let's face it, it's the mian event that's putting the asses in the seats in this very arena...the Hartford Civic Center. The arena is somewhat dark with the only lighting being the one down where the ring attendants are setting up the ring. As the camera pans the empty seats in the arena, we see one figure in the arena...and a close up of him confirms that it's none other than Jack Daniels. Daniels is sitting high up in the nose bleed section of the arena as he looks down below. As the camera settles in on Daniels, he begins speaking...)
Jack Daniels: The night that never happened...the night that was to be...the match that never took place. Well guess fucking what marks? It's happenin'...it's takin' place...and it's taking place right here in this very arena. But that won't do ya any good now seein' as how this event sold out quicker than some gay ass all boy band playin' in some state overcrowded with a annoyin' little thirteen year old girls. And while on the subject of thirteen year old girls, that reminds me of my opponents for this match that has been a year and a half in the makin'...Cold Hard-On Cash and Erik Dravenstegasouras. How do these two and little annoyin' thirteen year old girls go hand in hand ya ask? Cuz quite frankly, they have just as much chance of winnin' this match 'gainst Jack Daniels than a little annoyin' thirteen year old girl does. Well that and of course the fact that they both get off at the site of one. But that's 'nother story for 'nother time, that quite frankly, I don't want to hear nor tell.
Now ya know all the EWA fans...all the rasslin' fans...hell, all the marks out there are gonna have their VCRs set and as soon as that bell sounds to decide to EWA World Title, milliions upon millions of fingers across the country will be simultaneiously pressin' the record buttons on their remote control. And do ya know why? Cuz Jack Daniels is 'bout to embark on a historic event that's gonna shake the foundation of rasslin' all together. Does Jack Daniels have to spell it out for ya bastards? Ya see, back over a year and a half ago, Duane Gates approached Jack Daniels and offered him a spot on his roster promisin' him only the best of competition and the best time of his life. Well, Gates was half right. In a way, it was one of the best times of my life. From the second I signed my name on the dotted line, I was rollin' in style...rollin' with the best in FTW. We raised hell like only FTW knows how. And 'fore ya knew it, Jack Daniels was rackin' up the gold. EWA Tag Team Champ...EWA Intercontinental Champ. And then there was only one piece of gold left for me. That one piece of gold that everyone in this industry drools over like a hungry dog thinkin' of a big piece of red meat. And I was gonna get my shot at that big piece of red meat. But as luck had it, things didn't turn out that way cuz Gates locked the EWA's doors and bank account 'fore nayone oculd blink an eye. Now I know what both of ya sorry motherfuckers are thiknin'. Ya both think that World title was yours. Ya both think that ya would hvae been the one to walk out that night sixteen pounds heavier. Guess we'll never know...or we will?
Ya see fellas, nuttin' has changed much since October of '99. Yeah we're all a year and a half older...I don't carry 'round a bottle of Ol' No.7 everywhere I go...and I don't carry 'round that bitch of a liability ya used to call Electra anymore. But other than that, many things have remained the same. Jack Daniels was on top of the rasslin' world then...and he's still on top of the rasslin' world now. And as far as ya jackasses go, Erik Draven and Hardin' Cash, ya were on the bottom of barrel then tryin' to scratch your way up to the top and see some light. Ya were given a chance, and how appropriate, it shut it's doors on right in your faces. And now...well now you're still at the bottom of a barrel buried six feet in the ground. So given how many of the circumstances have remained the same, it's quite obvious the the end result will have been the same whether it was in late October of '99...or late May of 2001. One way or 'nother, the ass whoopen that both of ya had comin' your way a year and a half ago is still in Jack Daniels. And ya know what they say, it's much better when it's aged.
(Daniels gets up and walks and begins to walk through the aisles a bit before he walks down some steps and out into the lobby. He looks for something, and then heads for some stairs as he continues talking...)
Jack Daniels: Now Jack Daniels can single both of ya bastards out and rip ya a new asshole the size of the Grand Canyon. But why bother? Why should I bother repeatin' myself over and over in this promo? Ya see, E-Diddy and Hard-On, you're both the same in your own ways. Damn, that's an oxymoron if I ever heard one. Now one may be older than a T-Rex's fossils and the other may be the biggest inbred piece of honkey shit this world has seen, but the similarities are so much alike, they're appallin'. Actually, they aren't that appallin' at all. Anyone who can't pull a win over either of ya two should be shot, hung and spat on cuz they obviously don't deserve to share the same breathin' air as everyone else. Ya see, there are people out there that are considered good losses. Ya lose to Jack Daniels, that's a good loss cuz he's one tough sunuva bitch and a match 'gainst a legend like Jack Daniels can only elevate me on the card. But then ya got those real solid mid carders, *cough hardincash cough* *cogh draven cough*...that just get nowhere. Yeah they win their share of matches. But 'gainst who? Beatin' the Joe Lemons of this circuit doesn't qualify for an opportunity to move on up. But then when it comes to those big matches...face it, ya motherfuckers just can't hang with the best. Drave, how many fuckin' times must Jack Daniels humiliate ya 'fore ya finally realize that you're just outta your league here? UEFA...beat ya. NEWF...beat ya. Ya want me to keep on going bitch? I didn't think so.
Cold Hard-On Cash...NYSWF...beat ya for TV Title and let's not forget the Heavyweight Title. UEFA...beat ya for the UEFA Cup. And the list goes on. But what does that tell ya bitch? Well, if it didn't tell ya that ya just can't cut it 'gainst a true competitor...a true legend like Jack Daniels. When the pressure is on, all ya know how to do is wrap your little hands 'round your throat and choke yourself to death. Ya and Erik Draven...both ya bastards just can't cut it in those big pressure matches to elevate yourselves over that hump. For years now, ya both have been stuck down at the bottom, scratchin' the surfaces of greatness. But ya bastards could never see the light. And as long as ya motherfuckers keep chokin' in those pressure situations, ya will forever be stuck right smack dab in the middle of the mix...not exactly where ya wanna be. Nah, where ya wanna be is right here, where Jack Daniels is, and I ain't talkin' 'bout the Civic Center. I'm talkin' 'bout bein' in the fuckin' spotlight. I'm talkin' 'bout everyone knowin' exactly who ya are and what ya can do. I'm talkin' 'bout bein' at least one level 'bove everyone. But as far as ya both are concerned...bein' 'bout seven levels 'bove ya.
(Daniels walks through a door and now finds himself on the ground level of the arena. Daniels walks through the seats and comes up to the ring where workers have already quit for the day. Daniels looks at the ring which is just about all set up and continues speaking...)
Jack Daniels: Ya see fellas, by Gates closin' down the fed, all that did for ya was save ya bastards the humiliation you're 'bout to go through for 'nother year and a half...nuttin' more nuttin' less. But it all ends tomorrow night. The anticipation of who was gonna win the match that never happened will all culminate tomorrow night. The ass whoopen that never happened will all be unleashed tomorrow night, and what an ass whoopen it's gonna be. Ya see, both of ya should be somewhat familiar with Jack Daniels by now. Ya should be familiar with his never say die attitude...with doin' whatever the fuck it takes to get what I WANT! And I WANT the EWA World Heavyweight Title. That title has made the careers of many superstars that have had the honor to put it 'round thier waist. But that's not gonna be the case for Jack Daniels. No, instead Jack Daniels is gonna do for that title and the EWA what he did for the NEWF Heavyweight Title and the NEWF. Jack Daniels took that sixteen pounds of gold and ran with it for two long fuckin' months. 'Fore ya knew it, all shows were bein' sold out, ratings were way up, and suddenly the NEWF roster shaped up talent wise. Ya can say that Jack Daniels mad the NEWF. Jack Daniels brought a sense of respect and dignity to that title. And that's exactly what he's gonna do tot he EWA Title. Jack Daniels is gonna make that the most coveted title once 'gain in this industry. Jack Daniels will put asses in the arena. Jack Daniels will make the EWA the place to be once 'gain. And it'll all be courtesy of Jack Daniels. So maybe ya bastards should reserve your spots in line from now to kiss my drunken ass, cuz after the title is hangin' from my shoulder, it'll be too late. But bein' late is somethin' both ya motherfuckers are accustomed to. So go 'head and act like the cowardly bitches that ya are. Don't show your faces till five minutes 'fore time is up and throw in your little meaningless comments. Go 'head assholes, twist and turn good ol' Jack Daniel's words any which ya want. Cuz ya see, it won't make a fuckin' difference in the world what either of ya say or do. Cuz when it's all said and done...when all of the smoke is cleared...when your limp bodies are scraped off of the canvas and rinsed of all your blood that you're covered in...ya'll see the image that could only fit this situation right...Jack Daniels standin' over your beaten bodies holdin' up sixteen pounds of gold that ya only wish ya could claim as yours for a mere three seconds.
So cherish the moment now while ya can fellas, cuz when ya bastards are inside this very ring right here, this will be the closest ya motherfuckers will ever be to any type of gold 'gain...especially the EWA World Title. Ya want it...ya think ya deserve it...not only are ya gonna have to prove it to me...you're gonna have to FUCKIN' KILL ME! And the odds of that happenin' tomorrow night are as likely as hell freezin' over. Or in other words...ya bastards got NO CHANCE IN HELL!
Till then...MOTHERFUCKERS!
(And with that, the scene fades at the very location that will feature the match that never took place and was meant to happen...fade to black...)