**The arrogance is starting to smell foul around the locker room...Ickeez has just read the UCW headlines and found that Itch & Scratch remembered back to when Ickeez slammed them in a stunt at Jack-in-the-crack. Though they say that imitation is the highest form of flattery, He is not amused. His medications have all now completely work their way out of his system and he is in a state that should have the authorities on edge. His antics are viewed as a cross between Hunter S. Thompson, Henry Rollins, and the poster child for Thorizine.

Ickeez is sitting on a cooler full of Jolt cola to which he is washing down Viviran with. He is rocking back and forth on the edge of the cooler with his eyes open wide and not all together focused. The look in his eye looks like a shark or someone who just finished a long stare at the sun while holding their breath until nearly blacking out. He is uttering unaudible primal noises to himself and is sitting very close to a big screen TV that has Natural Born Killers on it. The volume is turned down and the hi-fi is cranked with Pantera's album "far beyond driven". The lights of his dressing room are off and a single strobe light is set on a very slow cadence. Ickeez sees the camera, stares at in momentarily, and then turns the music down just enough so that he may be heard...**

I know what you think you can do to me but I have already done that which can't be done and walked away with a tickle in my throat....you want to be my friend deep down inside of your soul but the rejection the binds you blinds you and keeps you so amused.

You build up walls around you. You keep yourself locked in this fricking playland where you can't be hurt, won't be hurt, and feel no hurt.....

I have the key that you left hidden under the rock outside the door. Go look, it isn't there. When your sleeping, sometimes I sneak into your "safe" little room and I put a rusty ice pick up to your throat. I feel the blood rush to my brain and just as I get to the moment of truth, the money shot if you will, I stop myself from doing it because I know that all the people who despise you and all the UCW fans you hate what you have become....they will not forgive my transgressions....they will judge me as a selfish person for not sharing that moment with them too!

You want to play games with my little boy? You want to follow the yellow brick road to grandma's house where the big bad boogie man is holding your mind captive? Do you really want to jump? Do ya? HUH?!

I know you and your ways. I realize that you hope to become a true wrestling diety just as I have become. You want my edge! An edge that has been honed to a brilliant edge...

I don't need your charity you stupid son-of-a-bitch! I love this fugging movie...this is the 7th time in a row that I have seen it today....I have drank a case of this here go juice and I haven't even pissed yet. He told me not to. He said I should wait until I can taste it in the back of my throat....the I should do sit-ups. He said this will cause me to focus...he said after the sit-ups I need to lie on my back on a poster of Pamela Anderson and evacuate my bladder into the air letting the urine fall as it may. He said I need to rub talcum powder and nutmeg on my glistening urine drenched skin and let it dry until the match. He said it will turn you on and you will become so aroused that....well it is no secret that you suffer from "performance anxiety" so this is my secret force field that will render you impotent in you quest to violate me in the ring. It will reduce you to a confused basket case ripe for the picking. This is when I will extract your teeth and make a necklace with the piece. Not the fillings though...the taste to good to waste on a necklace.

**Ickeez turns to the movie and sets the volume of the hi-fi back to respectable psychotic levels. Just as Juliette Lewis is offing a dude she just humped, Ickeez bolts for the TV yelling, "You cheated on me bitch....you know that turns me on!" He dives head first into the TV and his head smashes through the glass. Slowly he removes his head from the TV. His head is very bloody and chards of glass are jutting out of his face. He runs to the dressing room door and DEMANDS take the UCW hospitality staff bring him a TV because "this one won't work!"