Scene opens to Alexander Aries kicked back on the hood of his vintage nineteen sixty seven cherry red Impala. He is dressed very casually, wearing his favorite pair of jean shorts and a black wife beater, Converse on his feet. He sips on a bottle water and yawns.

One two three.

Another "enhancement talent" stares up at the lights at the hands of the Straight Edge Assassin. Well, I would hardly call this bloke "enhancement" or "talent" for that matter. After all, what is his claim to fame? He showed up last week on bloody Monday Madness in a pirate costume which he removed to reveal his true identity.

Pringle. Boy. One. Eight. Seven.

Yeah, sounds like some nutter you meet in the old Yahoo chatrooms on the internet. You know, those dumb teenagers who listen to rap music and think they're hard so they go online and "troll" honest hard working people like myself. Talkin' rubbish about my mum, an' when I actually hurt their little feelings with my superior intellect, what do they do?

They threaten to "come to my house" and "pop and cap in my arse." I think we all know where that kind of talk leads. Nowhere. After all, most of the lil buggers do not know how to trace an IP to a physical address. But in my line of work, you learn to do that an' ya learn to mask your IP. All part of being an Assassin.

He sighs and sits up, hopping down from the hood of his car. We get a full view of the young superstar's garage. It's abnormally large for a man who has just started his career. At least that is what you would say if you were a casual fan. But if you've followed his career in the independents then you know that Mister Aries has been to the pay window more often than not. The man is a commodity in terms of popularity.

As we get a better look we see three different cars. The aforementioned Impala. Then there's a little red corvette convertible. Then there's the "family SUV". All are in mint condition. The point is between his wrestling and his "day job" he is not hurting for money.

So why do I do this?

As you can see, I am not hurting for cash, hell, I'm set for life. So allow me to explain to you all that I don't do this for cash. I don't even care whether or not these people, you people, cheer me. It doesn't matter if you love me or you hate me at the end of the day you will respect me. You will see that I am the absolute best wrestler in this industry today. Because you see folks, I have been groomed since day one to be the best. I went to the best schools, had the best teachers, ate the best foods, and never once have I ever touched drugs or alcohol. Do you know what that means?

It means that not only am I the best but I am better than all of you. All you beer guzzling, crack smoking, sucking, fatty food eating, out of shape, trashy, poorly educated wrestling fans who don't know a wristlock from a figure four. Which is really sad, considering that the Figure Four specifies in it's name that it's a leglock. So yes, I am simply better than "you people".

Better than Sebastian Duke.

Better than Steve Davids.

Better than Frodo Smackins and his disillusioned idiot of a brother. You've got one who is a white dwarf who evidently thinks his black and the other who is a black man, a grown man mind you, who thinks he's white and hates black people.

Better than Dimallisher who's horrid teeth and bad breath would probably give any dentist nightmares. A man who simply must resort to racial slurs and Klan beat downs to actually win.

He shakes his head and crumbles his empty water bottle, tossing it into the plastics recycling bin. Yes, he even treats the Earth better.

So why do I do this? Simple. Because when you are the best, it's better than being "the champion". Reason being that you have a bigger target on your back due to air quotes. "haters" who seek to knock you out of that top spot. Make no mistake about it, jealousy plays a huge role here in the XWF. Like a bunch of spoiled children fighting over the last piece of cake during the French Revolution.

I challenged LeStrange, like a man, for the Xtreme Championship a mere two or three days ago. Of course, as is the norm with "job boys" he lost it before we had the match. To who? To Tholomew Plague, a woman who shops at Hot Topic. Yes, I said woman. 'Cause this "Nancy boy" couldn't be Xtreme if his life were to depend on it. Moving on.

Hannah "Declares" Warr.

Darlin', you've gotten yourself in a bind. The reason I say this is because while last week, you had a victory in a Tag Match, this week you face off against the full stopping power of a "ring warrior" who know one thousand and fifty ways to beat you. Yes, I learned fifty new ways, because I'm just that fucking good.

So you say that you "Declare" war?

He chuckles.

So am I to be afraid? Very afraid? Do you expect me to respect the fact that you can pass something the size of a water melon through a hole the size of a lemon? Do you think you're tough because ya bleed from your vagina for seven days and don't die? Tell me exactly what about you "declaring war" that I "The Best in the Universe", the "Avatar of Awesome" should be scared of?

I just don't see it, Hannah Montana. By the by, that is your new given name. You know, due to the fact that I don't perceive you as a threat what with your spiffy name? Or your one victory? Or did you think maybe the similarity in our professions outside of the ring would make any difference?

What are you thinking Hannah?

Despite the fact that the "odds" makers are betting against me, I don't care. Despite the fact that I know what you are capable of, I don't care. This match is an opportunity for you to shine, but toe it is more than that.

I never bet against myself when I am driven and Hannah, I am driven. I am not threatened in the least bit as it pertains to you or this past you so readily and easily make available with you uploads. I said it and I meant it Hannah. When you are laying on your back, which I have no doubt that you are used to, counting the lights you will remember one simple fact.

I am Aries. I do not "declare" war, I *am* war. I just defeated you. Holds up three fingers. Three and holds up a zero. Zero.

#AlexanderAries4Life #UndefeatedAssassin

Fade to black.

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It's the middle of the night. It's late October, and tourists are crowding the streets for a big Halloween festival here in the tourist town. The Prime Minister would be speaking at the festival and the whole town was excited. After all it'd been a damned long time since he'd come to Blackpool. James Callagan was a hot name.

Meanwhile near some docks on a seedy part of town there stood a familiar face. The camera zoomed in on the man in a black tuxedo, who looked an awful lot like Alexander Aries. Of course, as a fact window opened up, we saw that this wasn't the case.

Character Dossier Said:Assassin Information
Name: Adrian Aries
Age: 26
Occupation: Former operative in her majesty's secret service, current freelance assassin. Legendary.
Specialty: Blades. Short range combat.

A lit cigarette hung from the mouth of the man as he puffed, the cherry glowing against the dark night. He turned and walked down the street, stopping to watch the news on the screens that had been turned on in a TV shop. He saw the motorcade of the Prime Minister moving down main street, then spoke low into a microphone in the collar of his coat. The camera zoomed in on the mic.

Equipment Dossier Said:The z3000 comm device provides deciphered audio communication over two way radios. The communication is normally encrypted as another language of the user's choosing.

Je dois visuel sur la cible , Elizabeth . Sa voiture se dirige sur la rue Main maintenant.

I've got visual on the target, Elizabeth. His motorcar is heading down Main Street now.

(WHITE=Translation)

The game was on. Make no mistake about it, not only was this a living from Adrian but to him it was also a game. He found it fun. The camera pulled itself off of Adrian and moved on to a young lady walking down the street in a black cat suit and stiletto boots. She moved past the guards and people surrounding the street where the motorcade drove down, almost as if noone had seen her at all. They paid her no attention.

Character Dossier Said:Assassin Information
Name: Elizabeth Aries
Age: 24
Occupation: Hired Hit Mistress of the Red Hand Assassin's Guild. Trained by Adrian Aries.
Marital Status: Wife of Adrian Aries.
Specialty: Stealth

The motorcade made it's round as Elizabeth bounded up the side of a building, her boots popping with fire with each jump. As she walked along the rooftop, she pressed a button on her belt and...disappeared.

Equipment Dossier Said:Red Hand Inc. has innovated the latest stealth technology with the Higgins Phase Plate Cat suit. The material has the ability to bend the surrounding light and refract it thereby making it's wearing completely invisible to the naked eye.

Elizabeth communicated with her husband over the z3000.

"Je suis en position , l'amour . Arme à la main. Soyez prêt , car si je manque , vous attrapez le Premier ministre à son tour autour ."

(I am in position, love. Weapon at the ready. Be prepared, for if I miss, you catch the prime minister on his turn around.)

Adrian nodded as if she could see him, crouching into the alleyway in the cul-de-sac turnaround. A flash of metal was seen as he pulled his blade from his wrist sheathe. Meanwhile, Elizabeth readied her long range rifle, training it on the Prime Minister's left temple. She steadied herself...waiting for just the right moment.

Woosh!

She felt a prickling sensation in the side of her neck and felt her blood rushing to her forehead as she began to stagger. The last thing she saw before the darkness came was three men in black, standing over her form.

Adrian heard static on his end of the commlink.

"Elizabeth? Liz?"

The mission was failed. But to him, that wasn't as important. He stood up from his position and looked down at the Commlink, which had it's own tracking device. Suddenly, the screen lit up and an older gentleman with long white hair wearing a facemask over his mouth began to speak.

"Mister Aries. I trust you are receiving this message because my men have kidnapped your wife. Let us not mince words, Adrian. If you want Elizabeth back then you will bring me what I want and that, my friend, is the Phoenix Files. You know the ones. Project Phoenix? So be a dear and retrieve that for me, would you? I'd hate to have to ...well, I'd hate to see your lovely wife harmed. Surely you would too, yes?"

Project Phoenix? Adrian shook his head as the old man disappeared into static. The young assassin sighed. He had no idea of how to procure the information on the project. Yes he was the best assassin on Earth but he hadn't been given any information as it pertained to the project.

So what was he to do?