The camera is panned onto the stage entrance, as what appears to be a marching band of sorts starts filing out, lining up on either side of the stage. Each member of the band is wearing a getup similar to The Nightmare’s: a dirty vintage suit and tie, accompanied by his oh so balked at mask...
the band begins playing a rendition of Seven Nation Army:



As the music begins to heighten,The Nightmare himself appears on the stage. He's carrying a giant protest sign, which is really nothing more than a big white poster board nailed to paint peeling fence picket. The sign reads:

S.A.M FOR PRESIDENT 2016

Kcus somorp ruo dna od ot retteb gnihton ev’ew esuaceb sdrawkcab segassem sselgninaem etirw stel

JIM ROSS: S.A.M for President? What the hell is that written underneath of it Brain?

BOBBY HEENAN: I couldn't tell you J.R., only idiots would take the time to read a sentence written backwards.

As The Nightmare is marching down the ramp the band begins to follow along still banging on their drums and wailing through their trumpets, while he's motioning his arm that's holding the sign up and down, as if the sign were a baton.

He spots a little boy smiling in a wheelchair sitting in the front row, at first mistaking him for Scully. This poor boy was sure to have been conceived during some debaucherous sexual escapade between Hero Xtreme 7.9 and one of the numerous smutty, drug and disease ravaged transients he gloats about sleeping with. Our villain and finds it somewhere within his blackened heart to make the boys day. He gives the special little man the S.A.M sign… the boys face droops with confusion.

The Nightmare enters the ring to a shower of boos and trash pelting from the fans. He pays it no mind, walking to the opposite side of the ring and practically ripping a microphone from Howard Finkel's hand, the band surrounds the outside of the ring and continues to play as The Nightmare begins to at first melodiously speak along to the chorus of the song:

“I'm going to fight them off…
A Seven Nation Army couldn't hold me back…”

Some of the fans in the crowd who obviously like that particular song can be heard singing the rest of the lyrics...



The Nightmare pauses for a moment, the camera panning closer to his face.

“Though I may be facing off against eight men in this very ring less than twenty-four hours from tonight at Lethal Lottery III… Even those 'competitors' of mine who have yet to make their presence felt this week still have a better chance of winning the match than Hero Xtreme 7.9, hence the fact that I've arrived here tonight the trumpets of this particular song. Hero that is truthfully how horrible you are, there is nothing and I mean absolutely nothing you can do to save yourself from the merciless beating I'm going to give to you… Hero, March 28th will be the final moment of your brief, bullshit filled career here in XWF. The only regret I having going into this match with you is that I only get twenty minuets to listen to you beg for your meaningless life. With that I'm done wasting my time with you Hero, you're finished.”

The Nightmare begins slowly walking back and forth in front of the ropes facing the entrance way,

“You know I find it quite fascinating that XWF even airs promo videos such as these...”

The Nightmare motions to the Xtron that begins streaming a video of S.A.M's latest promo work,

Quote:'Now, now sodomy? What is that? Some childish comment calling me the proper term for anal intercourse?'

Quote:'You can get pins even if you are carried. Desmond did all the work and MR. Patato sack scrambled in on his hands and knees before pinning your opponent for the 1, 2, 3.'

“First of all S.A.M I'm truly saddened to find that you consider using the word 'sodomy' as such a scholarly acronym for the tern anal sex. I'm almost certain it would be the only one attainable from a Meriem-Webster… yet that idea of using real wordage simply baffles the lot of you- well if nothing else this at least gives me a bit more insight to level of mentality you contrarily cultured cretins possess.

I guess I could stoop to level you're comfortable competing against, level such as Hero Xtreme's and ramble off things like:

'NOCMM starts fucking the hot chick rough.'

But never mind all of that S.A.M, since you're still insisting that I was carried through the Lethal Lottery and that Ricky Desmond...Ricky Desmond? Are you serious S.A.M? Since you're still insisting that Ricky Desmond did or does ANY work whatsoever I'd suggest that you take that fucking paper bag off of your head and actually watch, rather than run your mouth about matches you weren't even in this league yet to see. Or if you're like me and really enjoy wearing that mask, just cut some holes in it… it does wonders I promise.

But I'm done with you S.A.M, just like Hero Xtreme, there is no chance in hell that you're going to walk into this ring tomorrow night and still be standing after that twenty minuet time limit is up, though I do appreciate that you'll be trying and making it fun for me, in the end your fate will be one with all of the others.”

The Nightmare just stands there for a moment, sulking in a roar of boos from the crowd as the marching band finishes their song. His head raises a bit as if he's taking in a long deep breath... atop of the entrance way another group of people emerge from behind the curtain dressed like The Nightmare, lining up in front of the Xtron. As the band tunes up, the group at the top of the ramp act as a choir…


The Nightmare raises the microphone back toward his mask, looking directly into the camera now,

“Karl Cross...”

He softly speaks,

“If I were a man who bolstered himself as such a pervading presence, such a force to be reckoned with, such as you do bolster yourself Karl... then I believe I'd strongly reconsider worrying so deeply about the way in which another man speaks, maybe it's just me, but I believe I'd worry much more about what that man is capable of…

For the first time, ALL OF YOU!”

The Nightmare motions his arm out to the crowd as if her were speaking to the world,

“...will have disclosed in the most general way the level of destruction that I'm capable of- If I am Mr. Holland then this ring, arena and every element of it will be used to construct my Opus! It will be a showing unlike anything any of you have witnessed!”

The Nightmare slows down a bit, refocusing his comments on Karl Cross,

“I find it funny Karl, judging from your recent promo shoot your memory is a bit impaired isn't it? You sadly screamed at S.A.M and I during a some tedious ten minuet tirade about how you never claimed to have been a great wrestler in the past here at XWF, so on and so forth. You were upset that I had called you out for being suspiciously missing from the history books, blah, blah and blah, blah. Well let's just return to your previous promo work then Karl, let's find out what you actually did say”

On the Xtron Karl Cross's first promo for the Lethal Lottery III match is being streamed,

Quote:'I do wonder whether my opponents see it as blessing or a curse to be booked against Karl Cross in his return match to the XWF. On one hand it could used as a fantastic rub to even be allowed to share the same ring as me.''

Quote:Despite being a relative infant amongst the 'experienced' XWF grown ups, you have made a few points of note in your short XWF career. Come Lethal Lottery I'm going to slap that hand that keeps trying to steal a plat from the adult's table and knock you off that big boy seat because you're just too small for it.'

“Now Karl if those weren't just a few of the soon to be exposed pompous parables perfidiously promoting your pleas of precociousness in all things wrestling related- then I guess I've got you all wrong. OOPPS! There I go again with the alliteration… oh well, what the Dickens? I've always been a fan of Charles.

Even funnier though Karl, is how in those same breathes your hypocrisy contradicted yourself again dear boy! While you're so against, and tired of hearing 'dark and supernatural gimmicks' such as what you claim I am, it's seems as if you mustered up ALL of your malevolent might and were able to rant about things from my vessel, Dylan George's past that have yet to be disclosed to ANYONE in the XWF realm. You've ventured as far as to claim that you've rerouted my persona, and that I've changed who I am simply to combat you? What you're finding now is that I'm but a rotting onion- the more layer you peel off, the more vile and odious you'll find me to be as you trudge down this daunting road that is The Nightmare.

It seems as if you're truly nothing more than what you claim to hate- another cliché, holier, mightier, brainier than thou wrestler rambling off at the mouth in the third person as if anyone hasn't heard the same crap over and again already. For fuck sake Karl! I'm pleading with you now!”

The Nightmare drops to his knees and is now clutching the microphone with his hands together as if he is praying, getting very animated with head gestures, and with his arm as he starts reaching it out toward the sky as if he is talking to someone who is so far above his reach,

“Come down from there Karl! Forget about this Freudian facade you've created for yourself and allow your ego to be humbled! Come down and refute your claims of being far and beyond from normal men! Refute your claims of astute intellectual prowess, and that no one in this match is worthy standing in the ring with you! Now is a your chance Karl, I'm offering you a way out….”

Nothing happens, and of course Karl doesn't show… The Nightmare returns to his feet. He beings almost whispering now

“So be it then Karl… I'll do your dirty work for you then, I'll be the one to show you that ugly reflection in the proverbial mirror that you so fear could possibly your own… I've got a news flash Karl- it is you. Just as I've proven time and again, I'm willing to take things to that extra peevish mile, the totality of my vile virtues will be here...”

The Nightmare motions at the mat,

“For all of you to enjoy! From the greatest of horrors, irony is seldom absent, and who'd of thought, the clown wearing the burlap...”

The Nightmare chuckles,

“...would reign supreme in each of your bitter endings.”

The music ends, the lights fade, and The Nightmare has ended...