(The scene opens to Washington D.C., site of the IWF’s PPV event this weekend so perfectly entitled Evolution. We find ourselves at a very historical site, the Lincoln Monument. Of all places in D.C., why the Lincoln Monument? Well why don’t we find out. The camera zooms in as crowds of tourists are seen taking in the historic site. But there’s on individual who is simply sitting atop the steps with his head down. The camera zooms in and we come to realize that it’s none other than Jack Daniels. Wait a damn second, something ain’t right here. Daniels doesn’t have his usual game face on for an interview. The Drunk One looks pissed beyond belief. Something’s up and we’re about to find out as the drunken bastard begins to speak…)

Jack Daniels: This ain’t gonna be your typical "Jack Daniels is gonna kick your ass cuz ya absolutely suck" type interview. Nah, instead this drunken bastard is gonna shoot this from his drunken hip and tell all ya motherfucker how it was…is…and should be.

(Daniels pauses for a moment to take himself a swig from his bottle of Old No.7. He wipes his mouth and begins speaking…)

Ya see, Jack Daniels is pissed. Why ya ask? Cuz this drunken bastard realizes a few things here that may ultimately lead me to make some very crucial decisions. This Sunday night, right here in D.C. at the MCI Center may in fact…nah fuck that…is in fact the biggest night in this drunken bastard’s career. The IWF World Heavyweight Title is up for grabs and there are gonna be five others who want that piece of gold just as much as Jack Daniels. But the question is, just how much is that? Just how much does Jack Daniels want that gold? Just what will The Drunk One do to get his hands all over the IWF Title and become the one to beat? To what extent will Jack Daniels go to be the first ever IWF Heavyweight Title?

Ya know, just this past week, some brain cells in this drunken mind came back to life and finally some it all became clear to me. Week in and week out, title match after title match, Jack Daniels goes ‘round tellin’ all of ya just why and how he’s gonna beat ya. Tellin’ ya just how ya can’t handle a round of Jack Daniels. Week in and week out this drunken bastard tells ya how much his opponent sucks and can’t compare to The Drunk One. Week in and week out…Jack Daniels would tell everyone just what titles he has won throughout his so-called illustrious career and how many. Well ya know what, all the titles…all the victories…all of wrestling’s political bullshit…it all means JACK SHIT TO ME! And I’m sure it means jack shit to everyone else as well. Who really gives a flyin’ fuck that I beat this guy on that day and won that title on other day? I know I don’t. And that’s what Jack Daniels has come to realize…that everything I have done thus far doesn’t compare to what I’m ‘bout to go through at Evolution. Ya see, what all of Jack Daniels opponents’ say is true. I really haven’t done anything important in my drunken career. Yeah I’m a 3 time Heavyweight Champion…big fuckin’ whoop. That Jack Daniels might be, but if ya think about it, all those Heavyweight Title reigns were in the NYSWF, a biased, bullshit federation that hires pieces of shit off the street to wrestle. And all my title reigns except the last were mere bullshit and illegitimate. I didn’t beat Dredd…Errol Mason did. I didn’t beat Haywood in that Mexican Prison Cell Match. The bastard wanted out of the NYSWF for a long time…who could blame him. So it was planned that he would drop the title to this drunken bastard only cuz he wanted out in the worst way. What does that leave Jack Daniels? One meaningless heavyweight title reign and a collection of other meaningless gold, half which came from the NYSWF?

(Daniels pauses just as things are getting interesting to take a swig from his bottle of Old No.7. Wait a second, he started to drink but stopped rather quickly as he looks at the bottle in somewhat of a weird way. He looks back up and continues speaking…)

And another thing everyone is right about. I hear it each and every week from every single one of my opponents, and that is Jack Daniels is nuttin’ but a fuckin’ lush. That Jack Daniels relies on his liquor to ease the pain. Not the physical pain from my matches. But the pain from reality. The reality that Jack Daniels ain’t shit up to now and will never be unless he does somethin’ drastic. Somethin’ that no one ever thought Jack Daniels would do. Somethin’ that Jack Daniels thought he would never do.

(Jack Daniels gets up from the steps and walks up to the Lincoln Monument. He looks up at the monument and then down at his bottle of Old No.7. What the hell could he obviously be thinking? I hope it’s not what I think it is. Then, in a shocking display, Daniels winds up and there it goes…)

(OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT THESE EYES ARE WITNESSING! DANIELS JUST BROKE HIS NEAR FULL BOTTLE OF OLD NO.7 AGAINST THE LINCOLN MONUMENT! HAS DANIELS LOST IT OR IS THIS FOR REAL?!?!)

I hope all ya marks out there had your VCRs on record just then, cuz I didn’t just smash that bottle cuz I’m pissed or for the hell of it. That bottle is history cuz that was the ABSOLUTE LAST TIME a bottle of Old No.7 will ever…and Jack Daniels MEANS FUCKIN’ EVER…touch my lips. That’s right. Don’t start banging on your televisions or check the audio on your sets cuz ya heard Jack Daniels right. So just pick up your jaws from off the floor and let the fact soak in your thick heads that from now on it ain’t "drunken bastard". From here on in, it seems to me as if something along the lines of "sober bastard" is more appropriate.

(Daniels walks away from the monument and down the steps. He begins walking back into the heart of D.C. Damn, Daniels looks naked without that bottle of Old No.7 in hand. Anyway, Daniels is about to speak, so let’s listen in…)

Now as far as Evolution is concerned, and the other five jackasses that are gonna be all over this sober ass. I bet all of ya are sitting back just thinkin’, "big fuckin’ deal, so the bastard gave up drinking. That doesn’t mean shit." And I’ll tell ya who the first sorry motherfucker will be to say just that, and that’s none other than that egotistical piece of shit that couldn’t wrestle his way out of a paper bag, SmirtDogg. Yeah, Jack Daniels is going to get ya out of the way right off the bat bitch. Now Smirty, ya have won your share of heavyweight titles, tournaments and everything else possible in this business. So when this sober basatrd thinks about it, why shouldn’t ya win the Six Pack Match at Evolution and walk out with the title? It all makes sense, doesn’t it? Hell, I’d be the first one to put my money on Smirt cuz odds are that he is gonna win Sunday and walk outta the MCI Center as the first ever IWF champion. And do ya know why? Cuz ever little sunuva bitch for a fed head around here kisses that black ass like it was milk chocolate. And why? What has the piece of shit done for any of ya out there? Raise hell amongst others behind the scenes and then leave everyone hanging at the end when he high tails it. So tell me Willmott, when ya HAND that belt over to Smirt and seem to make everyone happy at the time, is it all worth it at the end after Smirt leaves ya hanging over some bullshit reason or excuse and causes the IWF to shut it’s doors? I didn’t fuckin’ think so. Ya see people, it’s quite simple and if ya haven’t figured it out just yet, then let The Sober One fill ya in. Just in case any of ya forgot, Willmott so conveniently named himself the special guest ref for this match here. And just why? Simple, so he can simply HAND Smirt the title. Think ‘bout it. Has he really been against Amerika’s Most Wanted all this time? What has he done to prove this? Absolutely fuckin’ nuttin’. All he’s done is put ‘em in matches against some jabronies. Then to make his case a little more convincing, he had ‘em going up against Rated X. Hell, anyone and their grandmother could have done that. But it still doesn’t prove one damn thing to me and everyone else out there. S let me be the first one to congratulate you Smirt…Congratu-fuckin’-lations on kissin’ ass toyet ‘nother title that ya don’t deserve Smirt. And congratu-fuckin’-lations to ya Willmott for buyin’ in to this scam. If ya haven’t realized it yet, then may God help ya cuz you’re in for one hell of a ride that you’ll forever be regretting once ya finally wake up and put two and two together.

Now as far as everyone else in this Six Pack Match is concerned, does it really matter? No, and let me tell ya just why. Willmott thinks he’s got everyone fooled here by puttin’ five other guys in this match, including this sober bastard. But the fact is that he doesn’t. Cuz there’s one guy out there that has finally woke up and realized what’s going down here. Tryin’ to make this match here more unpredictable…pretty slick Willmott. And ya probably thought that Jack Daniels would be the last one to catch on. Well guess fuckin’ what? Your worst nightmare has come true cuz Jack Daniels is out with the old habits and is walkin’ straighter than a pack of marching army men. And although the outcome of Evolution is all clear to this sober bastard, I’m still gonna come out there and do whatever it is that I gotta do to walk outta there with ten pounds of gold ‘round my waist. So in all fairness, let me touch up on the other four meaningless opponents in this match.

(Daniels is still walking down the street. Where he is going, only one can wonder. He turns a corner and continues speaking…)

So we got Lunatikk Crippler. Normally, I would sit here and call this bastard all sorts of little names, Looney One, Crip or what have ya. But that was the drunken bastard. This here is the sober bastard. But ya see, there’s only one similarity here between The Drunk One and The Sober One…he can still kick Crippler’s ass every day of the week and twice on Sunday. Each and every time we step in that ring against each other Crippler, I come out on top. And the last time, ya were humiliated out of the building. But that doesn’t really matter here Crippler. Why you’re places in a match of this capacity is beyond this sober bastard. You’re not an integral part of the World Title equation and we all know that. Maybe you’re in this just to throw people off. But regardless of why you’re part of the Six Pack Match, the fact still remains the same, ya ain’t walkin’ out of the MCI Center with any gold. Look at the facts. Now ya did come in the IWF with an impact when ya came out and took Haywood by surprise and gave him a run for his money. But ya came out on the short end of that stick. And then ya really came out on the short end of things when ya went toe to toe with Jack Daniels. There’s other guys on that roster that could have easily been placed in that match rather than puttin’ your ass in it. For example, Jublome. He beat ya so he could rightfully be placed in this match rather than ya. I don’t mean to rain on your little parade here Crippler, but it’s true. Not that ya ain’t worthy enough to be a heavyweight champ, cuz in fact ya are. But that’s not what Willmott wants, and we all know that if he doesn’t want it, then it ain’t gonna happen. And god forbid, we actually give Smirt some competition here. But think about, do ya think Willmott wants to put Smirt’s best friend in there against him? Sure, it’s alright to put Sanders in there against his stablemate in me. But nooo, not Haywood. Hell, don’t think I’m sticking up here for Haywood, cuz he’s a piece of shit all together. Just goes to show ya how things work out in funny ways, now don’t they(the sarcasm is being laid on pretty thick here).

Now before I put my foot in my mouth, let’s not forget about Grady Smith. A man that has been Jack Daniel’s personal bitch on quite a few occasions. And Sunday night will be no exception Grady. Hell, ya might be better off sitting at home and taking down your Labbatt Blue piss beer. And if ya do decide to show up, ya might need something a little stronger for the pain. Ya might wanna try some Old No.7, I hear that stuff is good for the pain. And I’m not just talking about the pain your gonna receive come Sunday night Grady. I’m talking ‘bout the pain that is gonna hit ya while ya sip on your brew watching this. Ya see Grady, truth is, just like Crippler, you’re not a factor in this match what-so-fuckin’-ever. Ya have one purpose in this match and one purpose only Grady. Willmott is tryin’ to cover all his tracks. And I’m damn sure the second Jack Daniels mentioned Haywood not bein’ in this match, ya and Willmott came up with the same argument. And that’s the fact that Grady is in this match, Smirt’s stablemate and long time co-worker. Ya two have been through thick and thin and just as much as Smirt and Haywood have. But ya see, to make this look as legit as possible, Willmott had to put one of Smirt’s ass kissers in there. And ya know the sad part ‘bout it Grady, this is probably all news to ya. Both of ‘em motherfuckers have this worked out, and ya would think that they can at least let ya in on it. But no, they’re gonna make ya find this out the hard way. And then when ya wake up out of your comatose state, and ya see Wllmott handing Smirt the title as the two embrace, ya will feel that dagger going right through your back. The truth hurts, don’t it Grady? But ya won’t have to worry ‘bout that outcome, cuz ya can rest assure that Jack Daniels will do whatever the fuck it takes to prevent that from happening and taking the gold and putting it ‘round my sober waist.

Then we got number five, Sean Sanders. The man who beat Smirt, placing himself in this prestigious match, all thanks to Jack Daniels. Now it’s time to pay your dues Sanders. Stablemates or not, business is business and I am not about to let our little friendship here stand in the way. But why should we? Why should we kill each other for this belt Sanders? Don’t ya see Willmott’s plan here? He’s trying to make us grow further apart and make Rated X that much weaker by having us work against each other in this match. If he was really so anti Smirt, don’t ya think he would make the odds of him winning much less than they are? Face it Sean, Willmott thinks he’s got it all figured out, handin’ Smirt the title and at the same time having tension grow between Rated X. He wants to break us apart cuz Willmott knows for a fuckin’ fact that we’re a threat to Amerika’s Most Wanted. That we can take ‘em out in a heartbeat and forever rid this business. But we can’t always get what we asked for, cuz remember Steve, it’s Smirt who runs this show. It’s Smirt who kisses Ray’s ass. It’s Ray who kisses Smirt’s ass. It ain’t the prettiest site in the world but hell, it’s the fuckin’ truth.

And let’s not forget ‘bout our mystery sixth person here. Damn, who could it be? Cold Harding Cash? Venom? Snake? Jeff Bunda? Ya know what…who really fuckin’ cares? It really doesn’t matter who it’s gonna be. Hell, it could be God himself and it still wouldn’t change the fact that Willmott has already fitted the belt for Smirt. This mystery opponent is not a factor what so ever. The only reaosn for this whole mystery angle is quite simple, to take the thought of Willmott hand pickin’ Smirt as the IWF’s representative off of everyone’s mind and have everyone out there kill themselves over thinking who this mystery guy is. Willmott, ya think ya got it al figured it out, but the fact is that ya don’t. This sober bastard must admit that ya gave it a valiant effort, but it just didn’t cut it. Yeah that’s right Ray, go ‘head and start changing the bookin’ sheets, now that ya have been played for a fool. It won’t matter Willmott, cuz Sunday night, Jack Daniels is gonna screw up all of your little plans that ya have made. Just as you’re ‘bout to HAND Smirt his sixth hundredth title, Jack Daniels is gonna walk up and snatch it outta both of your hands. Yeah, Jack Daniels wants that title just as bad as everyone else. But what this sober bastard wants more than anything, is for everyone to realize just how fucked up wrestling politics are and a matter of who can suck dick better. It’s a matter of who ya are these days, not a matter of fair game and who’s the better competitor. It’s all bullshit. And Jack Daniels wanted everyone to realize this so fucking bad that he hopped on the wagon and got rid of the Old No.7. Think ‘bout it Willmott, if I can drop my lifelong habit for this…

(Daniels then walks into a schoolyard and into some school. He walks throughout the hallways until he reaches a double door that read "Auditorium". Underneath is a sign that reads "AA Meeting Tonight". Daniels opens the door and walks in. We see a bunch of people sitting down while one person is up in front of everyone speaking. Daniels walks in the room, as everyone stops what they are doing and look at him. Then Daniels says what no one ever thought he would…)

Jack Daniels: Hi, my name is Jack Daniels…and I have…no I HAD a problem…

(With that, the scene fades…)