Out of all the guys who could have been chosen to deliver this message to Sid Feder, it just had to be me.

Alright, fine.

I can accept that; after all I am new around here and apparently just delivering this message to Mr. Feder is going to be considered quite the accomplishment, so it'll be worth it in the long run even if Sid does "flip out" like he's known to do when this particular subject gets brought up.

I take a deep breath with this envelope pressed against my heart and as the envelope rests in my shirt pocket, I can feel my heart racing through it. I take my hand away and place it on the key that had been beckoning me from within the ignition for what felt like several minutes now, and with a swift turn I start the engine of my Crown Victoria. The sound of the powerful engine soothes my soul as I begin drifting down the road and going over in my mind all the reasons why everything would be just fine.

I mean think about it -- Sid should take what's in this envelope as good news. I mean, wouldn't you?

What's that? Ah yes; you don't know what's in this envelope. You don't even know who I am or who I represent, actually. Well I'm afraid most of that information is going to continue to be kept from you -- I mean after all, you're a "wrestling audience" for Christ's sake and I'm only doing this all on camera for you because I need to make a few extra bucks to buy my girlfriend a very special birthday present. I got in touch with Shane through an old friend of mine and I was given a very nice offer to do all of this publicly.

Not to mention it's much better for my own health if I'm on camera when I meet with Sid and deliver the news to him that waits in this envelope. Looks like a win-win situation for me as long as Sid doesn't really lose his cool.

You know something? It's amazing how just submerging yourself in logical and calming thought can make a short drive so much more pleasant -- I actually am already pulling into the driveway of the hotel that Sid Feder is staying at and I'm feeling very good about this encounter as I do so. I pull into an open spot and shut off the car, taking a moment to wipe a few smudges off of my sunglasses before I exit the vehicle. The warm sun beats down on me immediately, reminding me how thankful I am for air conditioning in my car because my last car didn't have any at all. I enter the hotel and walk up to the front desk to ask for Sid Feder, but before the young lady at the counter can answer me-

:3 x Better:
You've got your Three Times Better Go Getter right here!

Sure enough, I spin on my heel and am greeted by Sid Feder wearing a pair of tie-dye jeans that look like they belong in the 70's and a black t-shirt with a GUN on it that reads: "I don't call 911!"

Of course I force myself to smile in the most genuine looking manner possible as I reach out my hand toward Sid, accepting a most hearty and generous handshake from the wrestling superstar. Sid is actually smiling -- Oh my god, could I be so lucky? He's . . . he's in a good mood! Yyyyyyes! It's easy to contain my enthusiasm on the outside due to my profession but you had better believe I'm as happy as a kid eating his way out of a birthday cake right now.

I remain perfectly composed as I say to him: "Well, Mr. Feder, you certainly appear to be in good spirits today. I'm glad I was able to catch you at a good time."

Sid slaps is hand down onto my shoulder with a heavy thud that almost makes me lose my balance, but I've got this; I've got this.

:3 x Better:
Well yeah buddy I'm always glad to see you! Did you bring the stuff? I'll tell ya man; Flo has been busting my motherfuckin' balls for this stuff all morning long. . . all I hear is "Did you call about the stuff yet? -- Is it on its way yet, Sid?? -- Where the hell's my shit motherfucker???" -and on, and on, and on. Thank fuckin' god you're here man.

Wait a second here -- Oh no.

No.

Sid thinks I'm somebody else? What does he think I'm the freakin' coke dealer bringing him an 8 ball for his wife? Oh Jesus, man. Oh fuck me.

I try my best to continue smiling at Sid, swallow the lump in my throat, and calmly say to him: "I think you might have confused me with somebody else but I can definitely appreciate where you're coming from."

Sid's face changes. It's like somebody took a painting off the wall of a smiling man and underneath it was the face of a creature from the depths of hell, determined to swallow the souls of not only myself but of my entire family. You mean to tell me the whole reason he was happy is because he thought I was bringing his wife's dope, and now he's going to want to rip my head off -- even without knowing what I'm really here for. Holy mother of god. . .Why me? WHY. ME.

Quote:I want to prove myself. After Braxton. I have Three match types I want to be in. One is the Taipei death match. Which id be glad to go one on one with any XWF superstar. But Id love a triple threat. Even a fatal four-way. The next....is the match made famous by Sabu and the Sandman. A barbed wire match. All ropes are replaced with barbed wire. Weapons wrapped in barbed wire. Id love for a single or triple threat or fatal fourway in that. And lastly....why break the bank buying weapons for the ring...when the fans can bring them. In the long awaited, Fans Bring Weapons match. A boost for ratings and the top 3 hardcore matches. If I prove that im hardcore enough in these matches maybe throw a title shot my way. I dont care which title it is....but the Xtreme tile would ROCK.