::::

| Lockjaw | Johnson | Damien | Curtis | Kane | Kelso | Assassin | Jimmy | Lexx | I2K | Inferno |

:::Our scene opens up, and once again, we see Chaos. Well, the back of his head. His right hand looks to be on his chin, and directly in front of him is a McDonald's wall menu. The camera pans out, and we can see that Chaos is sitting in his car, a dark blue convertible. The top is down, and Chaos is in the McDonald's drive-thru road. About seven cars are behind him, honking angrily. He turns to the cameraman and begins to speak.:::

Chaos: What do you want again? A Happy Meal? Oh, no, wait, that's mine...

:::A voice is heard, coming from the McDonald's ordering-intercom.:::

Intercom: Uhh, sir, I'm afraid you've been here for 21 minutes now. Either order or leave, sir. Order or leave.

Chaos: LEAVE? I'm Chaos, dammit!

Intercom: Please, sir, it has been a long day, and I don't need an asshole like you right now. At least you could come up with a good excuse, like you're George W. or something, but Chaos? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Just who the hell is Chaos, pal?

Chaos: Who the--? What the--? Excuse me, mister, but I am Chaos! And just for that, I'm going to Burger King!

Intercom: [Sarcastic] Oh no, pleae do not. That would hurt my feelings. I would cry.

Chaos: Right, that's it! You just lost a goddamn customer, pal!

:::Chaos starts up the car, and leaves the drive-thru road. He pulls out onto the main road, and drives off.:::

Intercom: Pssh, Chaos...like anyone would have that stupid name...

:::SCENE FADES:::

:::The scene opens up again, this time with Chaos sitting at a table, in the room we see him in normally. On the table are wrappers and boxes from Burger King, Wendy's, and KFC. Chaos finishes up with a Pizza Hut box, and throws it onto the table. He looks up at the camera, burps, then begins to talk.:::

Chaos: Goddamn McDonald's...not knowing who I am. Heh, I showed 'em. Their rival comapnies are one-pound-ninety-nine richer now, so HA! [Burps] Anyway, it appears that I'm scheduled to star in the tournament on the pay-per-view. Well, whoop-de-dee-doo! I have time to kill - well, at least until all this junk food catches up to my system...let me go through each and every one of you Chaos-wannabees!

First off, we have Lockjaw. Lockjaw...that name just screams "Giant Turtle" to me. Why? Damned if I know. But you're no giant turtle, Michael. You're a fat, ugly overwight man. Your father left when you were little. BOO-HOO! You spent your life in an asylum. WAAA! You got your ass kicked by Chaos come Sunday...GOOD FOR YOU! Nobody cares about any goddamn sympathy stories, Michael. If you think it's going to get you laid or something - go on Oprah. Here in the OOCW, in the [beep]ing wrestling ring, what matters is how good you compete. Not you you were unloved. Not how you punched a doctor. Just your skills, your athletiscm! (SP?) But by the look of you, you're only fit for hardcore matches. Ooops, wait, you're not even good enough for that anymore. Heh. Just bring your lardy posterior to the ring, and square off against me. Got it? GOOD!

Next, we have Tim 'Mad Man' Johnson. Johnson, that just makes me laugh. Timmy, Timmy, Timmy. You really are [beep]ed up inside, right? Who else would have thier father leave with the mailman? Who else would show their ass to a shrink? And who else would stay in the tournament, knowing they may have to face me? Jebus man, I'm going to have to knock some sense into you. First off, I can remove that boil for you. It will involve some pain I'm afriad, but that's what my boot being rammed up your ass will do. Next, I'll repeatedly hit you over the head that should make the bad memories go away. And finally, I'll hit you with my friend "Oblivion", so that you can have a nice nap. Got that?

Ah, next to the plate is Damien. Our first 'undead' competitor of the evening. And so far, the most vocal. I managed to catch your promos, Damien, and all I can say is GOOD GOD! Take a breath! You'll die if you don't get the oxygen, man! And after hearing you run down the opposition, all I can offer up here is PRAISE THE LORD! How do I manage to beat you? It'll take a miracle to keep you down for the three count. Well, maybe I'll pray, and hope the God's are against you on Sunday. Or I can just rely on my amazing talent, skills and stamina to keep me going through the tournament. There, I shall perform the spell "Kickus maximus assus". BOOYAH, dead guy! You come to face moi, I'll make you, uhh...undead! YES! I'll make you so undead you won't be able to breathe...ok? Sheesh. How do I get booked against lamers like you people? To round this one up, I'll win, blaa blaa blaa, you'l lose, blaa blaa blaa, I win the title, blaa blaa blaa, I get your mother to satisf--- heh. Sorry. Got carried away there...heh.

:::Chaos reaches out of the camera's view, and is holding a Burger King drink cup. He takes a slurp, and puts it onto the table.:::

Now, who's next? Curtis Mayhem. I like this guy...'s name. Get it? Chaos, Mayhem? Eh, nevermind. Quite possibly the most talented man here, after myself of course. What did you say in your promo..."Satisfaction Guaranteed"? Well, Big Betty from the corner asked for her catchphrase back! You call yourself The Greatest. Good for you. Being 'The Greatest', is a matter of opinion! You cannot announce yourself as The Greatest, it's cast upon you. You're not good enough for that, Mayhem. Not good enough at all! Now, I'm not going to go making any claims about myself; I'll merely show everyone on Sunday. Tommorow night, Mayhem, I'll prove why you're not The Greatest. I'll break your unbeaten record. I'll hurt you, bad. I'll make you cry uncle. See, I can attack from every angle known to man, and then some. I'm too quick, too agile for you. I really want to face you, Mayhem, just so I can say "I beat Curtis Mayhem!" Because that's what it's all about, right Curtis? Not about titles. Not about winning, and winning, and winning. It's simply about reputation. And if you stand in the way of me becoming famous, then you're simply gonna be forced to the side.

Kane 3:16. Well, you win the "Wrestler with the worst name" award. Been watching the big leagues too much got to your head, eh? You gave what, 3 seconds thought and speech towards the tournament? That's your downfall, my friend. First off, I'll go for your legs. Take you down. Then, I'll lock you into Dead End. And finally, I'll move on tomy next opponent. You don't deserve my time, bud. Obviously this tournament, this whole business means nothing to you. I'm going to show you just how much this means to me, which, in Lamen's terms, means I shall make you lose. Lose by pinfall, lose by submission, lose by death, I DON'T CARE! You're going to be just another loser.

Hmmm...Kid Kelso. [Beep], how many people are left? Anyway, Kid Kelso. I'm not expecting much of a challenge from you. In fact, I'm not expecting ANY challenge from you. You just turn up, lay down, and go home happy. You do that, I won't make trouble for you.

Assassin. Assassin. Heh heh. Ok, I'm really getting bored now...Assassin, I caught your promo. I was quite impressed. Ok, I lie. I wasn't imprssed at all. You're just another on my path, Assassin. No challenge whatsoever, just another notch in the win column. You walk around with your firly-friend, Ms. Brook. BIG WHOOP! There's no man in this country that hasn't seen her breasts. She's quite a [beep], some might say. But that's neither here nor there. Just bring everything you have to the match - then leave with it firmly up your anus.

Lonesom Jimmy. The Intercontinental champion. What, is that supposed to mean something? You stick to the IC division, pal, and you won't have to face me. What's with this bible-bashing gimmick, anyhoo? You pray to your God, and you win. Nuh-uh, not gonna work with me. I make my own miracles, I win my matches because I train hard. Not by some fluke, or because I sacrifice goats or anything. You really take the cake when it comes to "Losers who need my foot down their throats" category. Look, Jimmy, I'll be nice - if I draw you in the first round, I'll conserve my energy and only hurt you half way. Then, at least, you can leave with your dignity. Oh, wait, you wear a mask, so that's a zero on the dignity scale anyway...hmph. I don't care about your antics with Curtis Mayhem, that's a completely different situation. And as for your 'relationship' with your chimpanzee...well, that's not for me to comment on. But if you try anything...uhhh. :::Chaos shudders::: I know you're not quite complete upstairs, so I won't go for you head that much. Perhaps I'll let you leave with a few brain cells. Perhaps not. Why don't you ask your God for the answer?

Now, Lexx. You got lucky, punk. And you're right, I am out for revenge. Revenge so deep, so content, so powerful, I'll rip you apart...maybe. If I have the energy left when I face you. But don't worry, I'll make sure I have one last breath to beat you with. After Wednesday, after our match, one though that has been going through my mind, has been - "A MOONSAULT? HOW THE HELL DID THAT BEAT ME?" Because, Lexx, I've gotten up from much worse offences than yours. I've gotten up, and won the match. Now, I could go and make an excuse, like "Oh, I slipped a disc." Something like that. But, I'll admit it - you were the better man. But tommorow, Lexx, I won't make any mistakes. The beter man will be me. And if you think differently, Just Try It.

Now, I2K. Apparently, you're one of the best here. Apparently, you'll be one of my main threats. Apparently, you could win this whole thing. Well, I don't go on "apparentlies". I go on straight facts. You're another person I'm really looking forward to facing. You can go on about "The Brass", but that doesn't concern me. Because if you have someone interfere, the whole world will see what a coward you are. I want a good wrestling match, I2K. And I expect it for you. The fans deserve to see their money's worth. And that's what I plan to show them. They want to see their hero, Chaos, be victorious! You just prove to me how good you are, show me the reputation is deserved! I'm going to give it my all, I2K, and I'm going to take a lot out on you. I realise that I may have to use a lot of my skills and stuff on you, but if that gets me the win, then so be it. No matter how good you are, I2K, I'm better. Remember that, I2K. Remember that.

Next, Inferno. What did you prove, by beating up two nobodies? Absolutely nothing! You proved that you're weak, by beating up two untrained civilians. In otherwords, you're a total wuss! Heh. If you really want to show you're tough, beat up 16 men. Then defeat Gravedigger. Then parade around with the World Title. If you do all that, Inferno, I'll get down and kiss your [beep]ing feet! Compared to the rest of the competitors, you're worthless, Inferno. Hopeless, worthless, talentless, brainless, and so on. Obviously you're senseless, too - you know you could face me, yet you don't run away screaming. And stuff. So I'll make you see the error of your ways. Got it?

:::Chaos yawns, and stretches.:::

Chaos: Good God, I'm tired after that. I better get to bed - I have a big day ahead of me tommorow...

:::SCENE FADES:::