Ben Jackman strides out from behind a floor length velvet curtain into a sea of people, sunglasses covering his eyes and a bright smile on his face. Jackman pauses just outside the curtain for a few moments before walking forward and taking a seat behind a long wooden table set up outside Tropicana Field in St. Petersburg, Florida. Jackman scans the crowd gathered around for another day of autograph sessions with the SHOOT Project superstars. Jackman stops momentarily when his eyes settle on a SHOOT Project camera crew walking casually through the sea of humanity no doubt getting the occasional fan thought on Sunday's upcoming Pay Per View, Redemption II. Jackman raises his hand toward the camera crew, and after a moment he gains their attention and beckons them over to his assigned section of the table.

"I'd like for you guys to tape this. I've got a few things to say about this Sunday's show, and what better place than right here?"

The camera crew nods in understanding and begins to set up for a stationary video as Jackman calls the first autograph seeker forward. A smiling young man steps forward, clad in a loose fitting Ben Jackman T-shirt, and pair of faded blue jeans. Ben smiles broadly as the young man approaches.

"How's it goin, bro?"

The young man only nods, obviously more than a little starstruck at meeting his favorite SHOOT Project superstar. Jackman's smile never fades as he reaches to pick up a pen. Jackman jokingly refused to use a sharpie for autographs before the show, and was apparently taken seriously.

"Who should I make this out too?"

Jackman arches an eyebrow at the young man harmlessly, hoping to illicit some form of speech out of him. The young man rubs his hands together, wiping off a haze of nervous sweat on the legs of his blue jeans.

"Could you make it out to Mike?"

Jackman chuckles.

"No...no I can't."

The young man looks a bit confused and turns to walk away, completely broken when Jackman speaks up again a laugh cracking his voice.

"Jesus man, I'm just fucking with you."

Jackman scrawls his autograph out with lightning speed built on years of signing this very same autograph almost constantly. A thin smile spreads across the young man's face turning quickly into a full out shit-eating grin. Jackman's slide his autograp back across the table with a smile.

"So...Mike, what do you think about the show coming up this weekend?"

Mike has become steadily more relaxed in the last few moments, and now begins to speak so fast he almost trips over his words.

"Well Mr. Jackman, I think its gonna be a great show. I'm really looking forward to Hardcore Style and Instant Heat most, but the Rumble should be absolutely incredible."

Jackman smiles broadly, extending his hand to shake Mike's as he walks away.

"Thank you, Mike. Hope to see you again on Sunday."

Jackman turns back to the SHOOT Project camera crew, his smile stil quite evident, but it seems to have almost taken on another cast entirely one born more of evil intent than of genuine mirth.

"So I got up this morning and as is my morning ritual I checked out the latest SHOOT Project promos, one of which was of course from our beloved Real Deal."

Jackman rolls his eyes in disgust, the smile still on his face.

"And what do you expect to see from good ol Josh? Something new? Something Innovative? Something worthwhile?"

Jackman gives a half-hearted laugh.

"Hardly. Instead, its the same old song and dance from the SHOOT Project's favorite son. You'd think with all that free time on his hands, he'd be able to think of something different from week to week but sadly its just exactly what he said last year. 'Jason told me to make you look good.'"

Jackman smiles, any sense of mirth almost forced out by now.

"What a crock of shit. It's like this Josh. You ain't half the man you have yourself convinced you are. You, my friend, carry quite possibly the largest wholly unwarranted ego known to the human race. It almost makes me wonder what skeletons there are kicking around in your closet that would lead you to do anything and everything you can to make yourself seem more credible. But realistically who are you trying to convince? I hope for your sake that its not me, cause if it is you're doing a shitty job."

Jackman's smile returns every bit of its earlier mirth intact.

"Its always the same thing with you. The same patting of yourself on the back. The same self verbal fellatio. But who could blame you for coming unglued this week? Certainly not me, I understand whats got you a little out of sorts this week, if thats what you choose to blame this on. But when the going gets tough, when some sort of competition comes knocking on your door you ALWAYS revert back to the same line of bullshit. 'I made you.' 'You Suck.' 'Jason told me to make you look good.' 'Everyone else in the SHOOT Project with the exception of my self is a talentless slug.' Everyone can tell when you're sweating, Josh. They can hear it in your voice, and this week they can hear it loud and clear. You're scared, admit it. You don't want any part of me, but somehow you backed right into me, and now your shitting yourself because of it."

Jackman leans toward the SHOOT Project camera, his eyes leaving the table in front of him momentarily instead deciding to focus directly on the camera crew in front of him.

"I am now, what you used to be to this place. You used to be the heartbeat of this place. You used to be the backbone. Whenever shit went down the fans and the boys in the back all turned to the Real Deal, because they knew then that you could get the job done, but then you pulled your shit after someone finally shut your fucking gob at Impulse and all the respect that you'd earned took a flying leap out the window. You went out of your way to be the most obnoxious little yapping prick in the history of the SHOOT Project, and went from being the unquestioned standard bearer of the fed to being someone's second fiddle...Someone's...Bitch."

The corner of Jackman's lip twitches in anger.

"And then there's OutKast. We've got some unfinished business big man. You can put it off all you want, but eventually the day will come when I step into that ring against you for the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Title. You don't have to admit it 'Kast, but I know you're scared shitless of it. You've seen what I can do to people and its got you shitting bricks, just knowing that one day its gonna be you on the wrong end of that big left hand. Sunday is that day, but at least you can rest a little easier knowing that you can get the fuck out of the ring if its gets just a little too hot in the kitchen for you. That is if Real Deal can reach down in his trunks and find enough balls to tag in. Smart money says he won't be able to."

Jackman's smile broadens slightly, a hint of laughter on his face.

"This Sunday night. Live from St. Petersburg, Florida. It's Redemption II. OutKast and the Real Deal..Instant Heat versus Ben Jackman and Del Carver..Hardcore Style. This Sunday night Hardcore Style breaks their feet off in Instant Heat's asses. Gentlemen, Bring your asses. It's time.

Jackman stands up from his chair, and looks into the camera.

"Oh, and 'Kast...Real Deal. Carry This!"

Jackman grabs his crotch.

"Motherfuckers."

Video fades to black as Jackman sits back down and calls the next in a long line of autograph seekers forward.