((It's late at night in the Allstate Arena in Chicago. "Loverboy" Vinnie Lane has arrived for Tuesday Madness way, way early, as he often does. As he settles into the locker room area, placing his black duffel bag covered with band patches and pins into the assigned rack, hanging a variety of screen printed metal t-shirts on the dowel and setting his shiny silver wrestling boots in the place of honor, Loverboy, dressed in Guns n' Roses pajamas and a black wife beater, sits on a nearby bench and pulls a brown paper bag out of his pocket. Removing a rectangular piece of food from some plastic wrap, Loverboy begins to munch just as his good friend Alex comes in to the room carrying another duffel.))

Alex: Alright, dude, here's your other set of gear. I swear, you are like a damn woman with all of the shoes and hair products you tote around with you everywhere. Hey, what are you eating?

Loverboy: Socrates got it for me! I finally found his Spartan ass. It's spanakopita. You want half?

((Loverboy takes a huge bite and offers the remainder to Alex. who grimaces and puts his hands up in a warding gesture.))

Alex: No, man, I hate spinach.

Loverboy: This has spinach in it? Aw gross!

((Loverboy spits the chewed mass into a wastebasket near the bench, then dumps the rest of the sandwich in on top of it.))

Alex: You going to get any sleep tonight in this shit hole?

Loverboy: Yeah, Alex, you know my rituals. I need the the atmosphere of this place in my pores for tomorrow, you know? It's a huge match. The WXF is going to see what they've gotten themselves into with me. LH Harrison is going to get his hypocritical, little boy flavored mouth slapped shut. This is going to be a match to remember, and it's going to be a classic in a few years after I'm a perennial main eventer.

Alex: Yeah, well, I'm just glad your partner showed up. From what I've seen, there are a lot of flakes on this roster and a lot of tag matches turn into handicap matches. You don't need a two on one beatdown for your debut, and I'm not in ring shape.

Loverboy: Dude, no worries, I knew Socrates was going to show up. You know how Europeans are, man. All relaxed. He was probably kicked back on some beach in Crete or something, getting his mindset right. He didn't seem to thrilled to see me at first, but we talked. He knows the team is just a one time thing and that all we have to do is coexist for one night. Neither one of us are looking for tag team gold, but it's how the rookies get brought in. Next week will be totally different. I could face Harrison or Bobby Zi one on one, or get in the ring with that plastic blow up doll, Shelby Cobra. Hell, I might end up fighting Socrates next week, who knows? Paul Heyman books like a lunatic, so there's no telling.


((Loverboy opens the second, larger duffel bag that Alex carried in with him and pulls out a large, rolled up plastic mass and a small radio. Loverboy presses a button on the stereo and Slaughter's "Fly To The Angels" starts coming out of the tinny speakers mid song as Loverboy unrolls the plastic into a large rectangle on the floor.))

Loverboy; Song's appropriate for a wannabe Christian soldier who's a few hours away from getting the taste kicked out of his mouth, don't you think? I'm telling you Alex, this guy's gonna need a miracle to leave the ring on his own power. I'm so psyched for this match, I probably could have gone in on my own ad handled it. I almost hope that Cobra chick tries to run in on me. Might give me a challenge.


((Loverboy reaches down to the near side of his plastic rectangle and turns a large dial, causing the plastic to rapidly inflate. As the mattress swells to capacity, Loverboy digs out a blanket and a purple rabbit pillow pet.))

Loverboy: Time to get some shut eye. I'm planning on getting up and watching the crew get the ring together. Maybe take a few bumps in there early, help myself get acclimated. You and Donny make sure you get those backstage passes I signed off on, get some girls, and after I take out the trash in the ring we can all have us a celebration. Cool?

Alex: Cool. Get some sleep, Vinnie. Good luck tomorrow.

((Alex walks out of the locker room as Loverboy slides onto the air mattress and gets comfortable.))

Loverboy: It ain't me that needs luck, Iceman! I'll be breakin' necks and cashin' checks. Wish LH Harrison luck, he needs it.

((Loverboy rolls over and snuggles his pillow pet, well on his way to never never land.))