The warm sunlight that peeked through the door of the Warehouse was no more in the dank, dark gymnasium. Woody stood on both sets of legs in the middle of the wrestling that was set in the middle of the large room. Fans of all ages were seated on the poorly constructed bleachers, cheering him when all he was doing was just standing there. He couldn't help but think to himself while waiting for his opponent to come through the curtain, "What am I doing here?"

He scooted over to the edge of the ring, poking his left side between the middle and top rope. As quietly as he possibly could, he whispered that same question to Chair, who was standing at ringside.

"You need to be on top of your game for Monday!"

"I don't mean to be big headed, but I did beat Swift Ion-"

"So? Swift Ion sucks! I could've beaten him!"

"Chair, you're way too hard on yourself..."

"Just shut up! Your opponents this week aren't even close to Ion's level. Just hold your own in this match and you might be able to stand a chance on Monday!"

Woody tried responding, but Chair had already began to storm away from ringside.

Meanwhile in the bleachers, pandemonium was occurring! A Swift Ion fan in one of the middle rows saw a Table fan club card in the pocket of the man sitting next to him and threw his drink in the man's face! The angry Table fan responded by no selling the drink that was poured in his eyes and throwing a punch at the Ion fan, knocking said fan back into a fat Peter Gilmour fan!

The Gilmour fan tries to stand up, but falls flat on his fat ass again. The commotion awoke a John Austin fan from his slumber, and caused him to jump into the unfolding series of events!

Soon, everyone in the bleachers begins to pick a fight with one another! The security guards vacate the ringside area and rush to break up the brawl. One could even ask if this was even a wrestling event, because the fans are turning it into a soccer match!

"Narrator? You do know that in every other country soccer is called football, right?"

So? We're in America dammit!

"Okay fine, no need to use such harsh language!"

Now, where was I? Oh yeah, the brawl in the bleachers...

The guards tried as hard as they could, but no matter what was tried; pepper spray, nightsticks, nude pictures of John Madison, nothing seemed to get the crowd to calm down. Come to think of it, the last thing they tried actually got the crowd even more riled up...

Finally, there were no other options left then to just bring out Woody's opponent and hope that the instant classic that'll be going on will get them to stop.

Some generic rock song came blaring over the speakers, and stepping through the curtains was some clean shaven man in black trunks and boots. He smiled confidently as he walked down to the ring, the crowd slowly but surely stopping what they were doing to catch a look at him. The song cut for a few brief moments, leaving the gymnasium in a state it hasn't had in years.

Silence.

Then, the ring announcer stood straight up in the center of the ring to assure everyone that their eyes weren't deceiving them.

Ring Announcer: "Introducing now, from The Wrestling Factory, weighing in tonight at two hundred pounds..."

The crowd is dying of anticipation...

"JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW BUUUUUUUUUUUUUURR!"

The crowd explodes! Jaw Burr reaches out and snatches the microphone from the ring announcer's hand.

Jaw Burr: "Now, why do they got me facing a table? Where's my real opponent?"

Woody can't help but feel nervous, knowing that he's going to have to go up against the man...

The myth...

The Legend...

Jaw Burr.

Yeah, Woody thought he didn't stand a chance. How long until that gets thrown out the window?

Who wouldn't want a ghost prostitute? - Mr. Satellite

Being offended is no reason to cheat - Archie Lawson