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Andrew Aldway · (07-26-2013)

The camera begins fixated on a black pair of dress shoes rested on a black leather ottoman. As the camera slowly begins to pan out Andrew is revealed dressed in an all black suit with his eyes closed, lounging in a room filled with expensive looking paintings and a large stone sculpture of a gargoyle in the corner behind him. The gargoyle casts a grotesque shadow on the wall from the small reading light set on the table next to where Andrew is sitting. Andrew lifts himself off the chair and reaches over to the table, pulling open the drawer and taking out a small wooden box with a large stamp of a sail boat on the top, setting it on the table before getting up and walking to the opposite side of the room to turn on a light switch, flooding the room with light, chasing the shadows from the walls, before walking back over to the table, turning off the reading light and turning around to the camera.

"Welcome to my home."

Andrew sits back down on the chair, going back to the box he had just set down, opening the box and pulling out an expensive looking Cuban cigar with a gold seam and a glass ashtray which he sets next to the box.

"Or is it? Maybe it's just me trying to show how rich I am, maybe this is all just a figment of your imagination, maybe this is just what you want to see or maybe it's just what I want you to see. Maybe I'm just renting this space to make myself look more important than I truly am, even though it's rather irrelevant to most people around here one way or the other."

He takes a lighter out of his jacket pocket and lights the cigar.

"Jonny Rebel, I admire your enthusiasm but first of all I called you a twit, not a twat, get your story straight, I realize having blue balls will cause you to have twat on the mind but honestly if you're going to even make a pathetic attempt to make fun of me at least listen to what I have to say to you first. And I hope you realize I am not England itself, and if you believe making sad, age old jokes about the British in general is actually going to somehow bother me, you, along with people like Mr. Arzegotti and Mr. Charisma himself Matt Lennox, can go into the nearest corner and try to find the ounce of originality you may or may not posses and quit grasping at straws in an attempt to get under my skin."

He takes a large puff from the cigar he holds in his hand and sets it in the nearby ashtray.

"Because honestly I'm getting sick of you yanks all saying the same things over and over and over, you're all apparently so great yet not one of you seems to have the half a brain it takes to come out with something original about me as a person and not the country I originate from. Hell, you all might as well put on red and yellow tights, say 'brother' every other word and rip your shirts while you cup your hands to your ears in a pathetic attempt to get a reaction. But if you honestly want to know my reaction to almost everything you said, log your overgrown ass onto XWF.com and check out some of my promos from last week, I'm fairly sure I answered most if not all your prejudice remarks already."

He takes the cigar back out from the ashtray and takes another drag, blowing the smoke playfully out in large circles.

"Although the whole football comment was something new I guess, still not original but new. It still doesn't bother me though, yes I enjoy football but I was always much more interested in rugby, you know the sport very similar to your American version of football, subtract the twenty pounds of padding all you pussy yanks need."

He takes another small puff from his cigar and puts it out in the ashtray.

"So mister Appleseed, please continue banging on old drums, you only continue to prove my point of your lack of intelligence and originality, point in you claiming European's worship David Hasselhoff when you can't look at your own country and all the half wits you all obsess over, invalids like Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan and all the half wits from the Disney family channel so once again well done Johnny, at least you're making an attempt to be original this time, even if you're failing miserably. If by some chance hell freezes over Monday night and stays that way until you win the European title you may as rename it the 'most unoriginal and boring title in the company'. Yes, that title seems like it would fit you perfectly, since you already unofficially hold that title, if you somehow win we may as well make it official right? I'm pretty sure it's not as if you'll come up with a more original name than that."

He turns the reading light back on, walks over to the light switch and turns the light off again before moving back to his chair, and clapping his hands together once, causing everything around him to fall walls, the gargoyle, the desk, lamp, everything, which reveals they were all nothing but cardboard.

"Well looks like I was just living in a house of cards."

He lets out a high pitched laugh and the scene fades out.

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