**"Down" by STP crunches the iWWa sound system and pushes it to the limits. The lights go dim. Faintly a shadowy figure can be seen climbing the jumbotron, which is on but displays only a snowy pattern. The figure reaches the top and a green spotlight hits him. We see Ickeez sitting on top of the jumbotron with an Olde English 800 forty in hand. He cracks the seal and guzzles about half of it as streaks of the nectar and foam race down his face and saturate his black t-shirt that has plain white letters reading "got honky?"....Ickeez pulls a microphone out of the waistband of his black patent leather kilt....**

(LOUD  BURP!) So Staks thinks that he can come to MY house, eat MY food, watch MY television, wipe with MY toilet paper, and jerk off with MY t&a magazines and then one day he decides that he thinks he is MAN enough to take what is mine and make it his own! That how the song goes Staks? You wanna test you manhood? What's the matter, saw your mommy get her ass smacked around by all of her nightly "friends" and now you want to take your angst out on me...well I can't say that I am not flattered!  I too once dreampt a life of revenge and lived impulsively on the edge of prison or victory or death! Hell the only thing I fear on this peeble we call earth is PRISON! You see guys like me wilt and die in prison. There is no individuality, no creative, and too much structure for the true geniuses of the world, such as myself. You and your Sambo doll Vaxson on the other hand are destined to be locked up and have your asses bought and sold many times over for a pack of Camels. You lack imagination and need to belong with the crowd. You lack leadership and discipline so yo azz pretend ta be da bomb when it really boils down to a scared little boy who missed out on flying kites in the park with his father because his father was locked up in prison for robbing a liqour store or stealing some hubcaps! "Dad I'm gonna be like you, yeah, you know I wanna be like you...."  Moral of the story is your a chip off of the old cell block. You will never amount to spit and it won't be long before your blowing inmates who sit back and talk smack about you every fugging Friday night when the tune in to iWWa on the prison television. You enrage them with all the "NIGGA" crap! Thugs like you get turned out real quick by someone who truly is hardened! Someone with real malice and discontent in their hearts and evil in their eyes....Staks my friend, this is exactly why I am looking forward to Friday Night Freeze. You see if I only touch the soul of one little wannabe and save their ass hymen from BUBBA then I will feel like I have accomplished something. Who knows, Maybe you will wake up and smell the urine soaked mattresses of cell block number nine. You may see that posers get nothing in life but a big shitburger...but I hope not because that leaves plan "B".....you know, I beat the snot bubbles out of your face, shoe your ball sack into your armpit, and shove the ring post up your ass so BUBBA won't stretch out the sides! Now go and pucker up those nice full lips just like BUBBA likes them!

**Ickeez guzzles the rest of his malt liqour and tosses the bottle into the ring where it shatters. Then he dives off of the jumbotron, catches a curtain above the backstage entrance, and it rips slowly carrying Ickeez down safely to the top of the ramp where he abruptly disappears backstage**