The freeway. Cars, trucks, busses, and motorcycles speed along, coming and going to any manner of places. At this particular point on the road, an overpass.

Standing on the overpass is none other than Jackie Peppers. He seems impatient, so lets see what he has to say.

Hi.

I'm Jackie.

This Wednesday, I have my first match in the XWF where I will be facing off against Muddy Waters.

And is this the best the XWF could do?

I get there has been a history of maniacs, lunatics, and other batshit figures floating around here. I get that rapists, murderers, drug dealers, and other criminals run around beating the shit out of each other.

Why else would I be here?

But Muddy Waters?

Are you shitting me?

A guy who couldn't create a dead body with a machine gun shooting AIDS bullets, couldn't put a human being down with an atomic bomb, couldn't kill the lights at night before going to bed, all as evidenced by the fact when he needs a corpse, he digs one up rather than making one fresh.

The Nerf psychopath of the XWF. The only threat you pose is someone might suffocate if they put you in their mouth. That's not a blowjob joke, either, Muddy Waters's dick couldn't choke a Smurf if he caught one and sprung a hundred bucks for some tongue work.

I am not amused.

So, to give the Nerf psycho a fighting chance, I have to get drunk before competing.

Look at me, the Drunken Master, getting ready to drop a beatdown on Muddy so hard when he wakes up he'll think he's in the Black Hand again.

So Muddy, since you're the first body, the first carcass, the first corpse I'm going to leave laying around in the ring, and definitely not the last, I thought I could show you what I like doing to bodies.

Jackie lifts a mannequin up and holds it beside him. It's nude, just a bald plastic pseudohuman. Jackie cups his hand over his mouth.

No, no, Mr. Peppers! I'm innocent! I'm just a big XWF fan!

Jackie removes his hand from his mouth.

Fuck you, body. You're just a victim in waiting! You're pathetic, worthless, and ultimately, ready to be buried!

Jackie puts his hand over his mouth.

No! I'm a good person, I have a life!

Jackie removes his hand from his mouth.

Not anymore!

Jackie dumps the mannequin over the railing of the overpass. As it hits the freeway below, the screech of tires skidding across pavement echoes as several drivers react to the sight of a body hitting the road in front of them. Several cars careen, and almost instantaneously, a massive ten car wreck takes up all three lanes of the freeway. An overturned SUV on its side has its window open and a half faceless man, bleeding profusely, climbs from the driver's side window. Jackie looks at the freeway in complete shock.

Holy shit!

As he says this, the report of a police siren is heard as red and blue flashing lights illuminate Jackie's face.

========================================================

Some time later, we see the inside of a police station, specifically, the interrogation room as seen on TV. It's small, drab blue, with Jackie handcuffed to the table while seated in a plain metal chair. The reflection he sees in the two way mirror looks visibly shaken, as though he bit off more than he could chew. He looks up at the camera.

Hi.

I, uh...

I killed a lot of people.

See, I always thought the promos in the XWF were just fun and games and special effects. Kind of why I filled a mannequins head with ketchup. It was for effect.

Then I dropped a mannequin onto the road and twelve people died. Children. Lives ended.

I am so so...

Before he can say anything else, a police officer steps in. She's hot, her tense features and fiery eyes hinting towards the inner tiger she keeps in the bedroom. She pulls out a set of keys and unlocks Jackie's handcuffs.

You're free to go.

What? I killed all those...

Yeah, yeah, you're one of those XWF guys, mass murderer but immune to the law. Your lawyer explained it all.

Lawyer? I stole a bottle of whiskey from...

Yeah, yeah, he said it was for a promo, all just smoke and mirrors and whatnot.

NO! IT WAS...

Jackie pleads with the officer to lock him up and throw away the key as an elderly gent in a kilt saunters into the interrogation room.


He speaks with a Scottish accent so thick you are sure you can hear plaid.

Shut it, ya simpleton. Ye git a match this Wensdy.

But I don't want to! I did something horrible! I should...

Lishen, ye din't haf a shingle ting to worry about, lad. I'm here to see ye through.

Who are you?

I'm Black Angus.

Angus, I killed people! I should pay my debt to...

Nonsense! Yer a lad, ye made a mistake, it's no biggie.

It is a biggie!

Shush. Let's go, I have to buy ye moar whiskey for yer fight wit Waters.

I don't wanna!