(CUTTO: Backstage – Merritt Auditorium)

(Rudy Seizter stands with “The Wolf” Mike Randalls, UNIFIED Title thrown over his shoulder, in front a CSWA15 Backdrop.)

SEIZTER: Here with Mike Randalls, Mike tonight against Evan Aho in a match that promises to take wrestling back twenty years...

(Randalls eyes Seizter skeptically.)

SEIZTER: In a good way, Mike. But first, it’s ANNIVERSARY, what have the last Fifteen years, or you’re majority in it, meant to you?

RANDALLS: Rudy, thanks for the opportunity to speak with you on CSWA’s biggest occasion. You’re a good man, and for that, the two thousand dollars I loaned you is not under a requirement to be paid back.

SEIZTER: (beat) Are you trying to develop a sense of humor after all this time? (smiles)

RANDALLS: (half-smile) My tenure in the CSWA, Rudy, as I stand before you now, it’s the measure of my past sins, the ones this title (slaps UNIFIED) was brought back tonight to help me atone for. I’m afraid, Rudy, I won’t allow myself to talk about the past anymore. For a man who has even one eye behind him, will miss the purpose of the day’s journey, and the redemption it potentially brings.

Tonight is, the only ANNIVERSARY that I will honor from this point on, the ANNIVERSARY of when Mike Randalls stood to be accounted for who he is. Forgive me friend for not being in a nostalgic frame of mind. I respect your celebration, and I ask that you are man enough to lay open eyes on what I am destined to do against Evan Aho...

(Randalls is interrupted by Mr. Wrestling #27, who struts into frame, bumping Rudy out of sight.)

MR. WRESTLING #27: Hey Friend you’re wasting honest effort that could be spent elsewhere. Nobody in this forsaken place cares about integrity in the squared circle. Nobody!

SEIZTER: Mr. Wrestling #27 this is not your time...

RANDALLS: He’s fine Rudy.

MR. WRESTLING #27: I came in where you are now, hoping to shed an old skin. And all I got, Mikey, was a bunch of beatniks calling me a clown for coming out here wearing a mask... hiding my damn face.

(Randalls is peaceful. Some time ago, Mr. Wrestling #27 would be lying on the floor, screaming in immeasurable pain at this point, but Mike, on the eve of his ANNIVERSARY, patiently waits, and listens.)

MR. WRESTLING #27: I figured I'd try something new. Try to get over on just my wrestling ability alone. No gimmicks, no NOTHING!

Well I got over alright, beating the likes of LOSERS such as Bramble and Stackhouse. Ya see, everybody knows that I'm a great wrestler...HANDS DOWN! But everybody knows that if you don't have some kind of schtick, some sort of personality, YOU GOT NOTHIN'!

So Mickey, take it from me, a man who knows who you really are...and don’t lose your inner demon, and the sweet theater he brings.

I’ve learned the hard way, so should you. But don’t worry, I'm doin' things my way....

(Mr. Wrestling #27 rips off the mask, to reveal "Superstar" Scotty Michaels.)

SCOTTY MICHAELS: (grabs the mic and hogs the camera) Just when you thought it was safe in the CSWA, your FRANCHISE has returned to reclaim his throne. Ryan, Southern, (turns around briefly) Randalls, Hornet... WHOEVER, I'm going to systematically RUIN all of your careers, and win the big prize one more time. If ya' don't like it, then leave now. This time, I'm NOT going to leave quietly...this time, I'm going to make sure that you don't EVER forget, exactly who...I AM!

(Michaels pitches the mic back to Rudy.)

SCOTTY MICHAELS: (To Randalls) As a former title holder of one of the belts that was so sweetly melted down to make your paper title you’re hanging high over righteousness, I’m exercising my rematch clause, at your earliest possible convenience.

See you kid, stay crazy.

(Michaels exits, leaving a speechless Seitzer and Randalls.)

BB: I think it’s safe to say JJ doesn’t have a hope in hell, Sammy. Not by himself.

SB: That’s really not all that fair, Buckley... JJ has the edge. He’s got Troy Windham in his back pocket and enough Kung Fu tricks to take anyone out.

BB: Even the most successful tag team in CSWA history since the CS Express?

SB: JJ’s the Original King of Cool, for heaven’s sake! He’s prepared for anything!

BB: We’ll see about that. And we'll see if Troy's still in the building!

INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT!

BB: Speaking of which, that siren, combined with the most famous bassline in music history is telling me that the Unified Tag Team Champions are about to grace us with their presence!

"Well, I'm a voodoo chile...
Lord I'm a voodoo chile..."

SB: Honestly, Buckley... I'm torn. JJ has the Kung Fu Fighting Skills to shred anyone... but these two Professionals are the real deal. Besides, President Mayfield wouldn't let things get outta control.

BB: Bandit, the Professionals' own personal Secret Service agent, has led the team to ringside and they look like they're ready for this one.

"C'mon, feel the noise... GIRLS ROCK THE BOYS!"

SB: If he comes out here dressed like a sexy pirate I might have to recant my support.

BB: I might have to rethink my career.

"We get wild, wild, wild... Wild, wild, wild..."

BB: Here comes JJ DeVille, complete with mullet-do wig and nunchucks! The fans here in Greensboro aren't quite sure what to make of him, and I think I've gotta agree with that assessment! But the former Greensboro Champ looks like he's got all the confidence in the world!

SB: It's all about the partner, Buckley, I told ya that.

BB: It very well may be. Referee Ben Worthington is wisely telling Bandit to leave the ring. Oh, come on! Bandit, there's no radio in your ear!

SB: Liberty is moving, Buckley.

BB: JJ's got the mic, Sammy.

SB: It's a gun! Zapruder!

(CUTTO: The Ring)

DEVILLE: Welcome to Anniversary! Welcome to the MAIN EVENT OF THE NIGHT!

BB(V/O): It's not the--

DEVILLE: In case you weren't lucky enough to be glued in front of your TV a couple of hours ago, it's time to reintroduce you to the man that's lucky enough to take those tag team belts away from these two chuckleheads--

MILES: Chuckleheads?

DEVILLE: --I knew there were only two men who were worthy. Two men who could add enough firepower to THESE GUNS (flexes) to make a change! Unfortunately I could only pick one.

SB(V/O): EDDY!

BB(V/O): Either that, or--

"WOO HOO! WOO HOO! WOO HOO! WOO HOO!"

BB: Apparently he *is* still in the building. Mr. CSWA himself.

SB: YES!

BB: It's not Eddy, Sammy.

SB: ... It's still a good day!

BB: Miles and Mayfield look fairly nonplussed, Sammy. I think they're just about the same as always. There goes a Newport, and Miles just lit another!

SB: Like a stone in the middle of the desert, Buckley... the Cocky One is as the same.

BB: Craig Miles is stoned in the desert?

SB: You said it, not me.

BB: ... Looks like we're finally getting this one underway, and we're going to see JJ DeVille in there against Eddie Mayfield!

SB: PRESIDENT Mayfield. Keep doing that and he'll declare war on the Buckleys.

BB: They lock up, and Eddie with a shove into the corner! He laughs, and moves in- JJ with a...

SB: ...with a splendid display of Karate acumen!

BB: That's what you call it, eh? Mayfield backed off to avoid the crazy man, but JJ ran at him with a leap of faith, and he's actually hooked onto Mayfield's front, pounding him with fists! Mayfield fell forward, and slammed JJ to the mat! The cover, ONE... TWO... KICKOUT!

SB: Find your courage, boy!

BB: He's evidently found his courage whilst hugging Troy's knees, Sammy. And Worthington's calling it a tag! Listen to these fans cheer for the King of the Slackers!

SB: Sweetwater's favorite son!

BB: We're in Greensboro.

SB: They don't know the difference!

BB: Troy and Eddie locked up, and a side headlock by Troy! Off the ropes, a leapfrog... and a bodypress by the King of Slackers! The cover, ONE... TWO... Reversal! ONE... TWO... KICKOUT by Troy! And the Boy Troy poses in the middle of the ring, to the delight of all the fans!

SB: I'm so confused.

BB: Mayfield took a swing, but Troy blocked it and fired back with an elbow! It's hard to believe that just two years ago, this man had a shattered hand! Another shot, and Troy hooked Mayfield for a suplex! Mayfield tagged out to Miles, who's still got that cigarette in his mouth!

SB: Go with what works, Buckley.

BB: Miles and Troy circled each other, and Miles just blew smoke in his face! Troy with a slap!

SB: Them's fightin' words!

BB: Troy shoved Miles backwards, into the ropes! And an irish whip! Miles ducked the clothesline, off the other end! Superk-- GOOD GRIEF!

SB: THEM'S Fightin' Words!

BB: That superkick came up about four inches short of Miles face...

SB: But he just extinguished the cig. With his foot. Them's fightin' words!

BB: Troy with an armbar, and he reaches for the tag! NO TAG! JJ doesn't want any part of the Professionals! I can't say I blame him, but you can't win a Tag Team Title match without a Tag Team Partner!

SB: Troy nearly did it eight years ago.

BB: That was then, Sammy. And Miles with a low blow! Snapmare! He's back in control, and stays there with a cross-face forearm! The tag to Mayfield, and the Presidential Champion has a look of utter confidence on his face!

SB: Wouldn't you?

BB: Mayfield with a whip, and Miles with a kick to the small of Troy's back! Worthington cautioned the Cocky one, but the split second was all it took! Shot to the throat by President Mayfield, and Windham's stunned! Snap suplex! The cover, ONE... TWO... KICKOUT!

SB: Much as I'm a fan of the Professionals, much as I'm a fan of the Playboys... Troy can't win this match alone! Why didn't JJ try to break up the pinfall?

BB: That's the eternal question, Sammy.

SB: Leave it to the philosophers?

BB: Exactly. Eddie with the tag to Miles, and he's got the King of the Slackers prone! Kick to the gut! DDT by Miles! And Eddie took a swing at JJ! JJ ducked!

SB: Wouldn't you?

BB: Miles hooked him from behind... Release German Suplex! Troy landed close to his corner! Now's his-- JJ doesn't want the tag?

SB: Forgive me, Eddy, but when JJ's biggest claim to fame is winning the Greensboro Title by moving to the city, he probably doesn't want to wrestle a PROFESSIONAL.

BB: Troy's yelling at him! And I can't blame him, but this isn't the time! Miles spins him around... COCKYPLEX! Troy hit the mat HARD!

SB: Rest in pieces, Troy... we'll miss ya.

BB: Tag again to Mayfield... these quick tags, the isolation of one member of the team, these are the reasons why the Professionals remain the tag team champions, Sammy.

SB: Having JJ DeVille as one of your opponents helps.

BB: Point taken. They're both holding onto Troy, who's gotta be feeling the quick and direct onslaught by now! Double suplex! And Eddie Mayfield has the advantage again, with a handful of Troy's hair! He's taunting the King of the Slackers, who's forced to his knees, nearly out of it!

SB: If ever the Playboys could pull off a miracle, it's now.

BB: TROY WITH A LOW BLOW!

SB: I feel a song coming on!

BB: He shoved Mayfield backwards, and dove toward the corner! That's an official tag, but we've seen that before tonight.

SB: He's never gonna do it. Eddy would be ashamed.

BB: JJ WITH A SPEAR! I can't believe it! The boy finally found his courage!

SB: And it's all over Eddie Mayfield!

BB: Troy's breathing heavy, but he's got a smile on his face! Craig Miles hit the ring to go for JJ, but Troy hooked his arm and backed up! Ben Worthington has started a count on the men, as Troy hooked Miles' other arm and held him prone!

SB: Wait a second!

BB: JJ WITH THAT SUPERKICK! TROY HELD HIM FAST AND TWISTED AROUND! SLACKNIFE! SLACKNIFE! JJ with the cover, ONE... TWO... THREE!

SB: Someone beat the Professionals?!?

BB: Eddie Mayfield is beside himself, and Craig Miles is still out! And there's your NEW Unified Tag Team Champions! The King of the Slackers, Troy Windham, and the Original King of Cool, JJ DeVille! And normally I'd be dubious of the length of any title reign where the belt's around JJ's waist, but give the man credit, Sammy!

SB: I give him credit for picking a good partner! But you don't get to beat the Professionals based solely on luck.

BB: Say what you will, Sammy... everybody's going to. And that's true, the Professionals were the most dominant tag team we've seen in years... but now, it's Troy and JJ!

SB: Miles is up... yeah, buddy, that's right. Lost yer belt. I love ya, man... but Eddy's boy is, by default, my boy.

BB: Miles looks a bit dazed, he's holding three fingers up at Worthington. Yes, Craig... three count. You and Eddie've lost.

SB: I don't think he cares. He just lit himself another Newport and left the ring, following half a step behind President Mayfield.

BB: Still to come tonight, Eli Flair against Mark Windham, and Dan Ryan against Shane Southern for the World Title! We'll be right back!

(CUTTO: Backstage, as the Professionals are just leaving the arena. The hustle and bustle of the place continues around them, but the new tag team champs are nowhere to be seen.

"Miles!"

Craig looks up, toward the monitor station. Poison Ivy and Rudy Seitzer are watching the slow-mo replay of the Tag Team Championship match, but neither of them are the one calling his name.

"Miles!," repeats the voice. Now, everyone looks - to see CSWA Commissioner Chad Merritt heading in his direction.

"What can I do for you, Chad?," asks Miles, "and can we make it quick? Just wrestled a match... am a little bit tired."

Merritt looks at him angrily. "No, we can't make it quick, Miles. My office, please?"

A crowd has started to gather. Miles lights up another cigarette, as he'd finished the prior one on the way back from the ring.

"What's this about?" asks the Cocky One.

Merritt shakes his head, "In my office, Miles."

"What, that interview?" asks Craig, to the shock of all. The interview he'd done for the Torch had been a touchy subject for Merritt - nobody had said anything. But the fact that Miles himself brought it up told the roster more than they needed to.

"Craig!"

Yet another voice from afar, trying to get his attention. This time, it was Bandit.

"Bandit, not now," cautions Merritt, "Miles is busy."

"What is it?" asked Craig, "Spit it out."

"Got a letter for ya."

"Leave it in my bag."

"I think you want this one."

Bandit holds the letter out to him. Miles gives it a cursory glance and hands it back, then just as quickly snatches it back out of Bandit's hands. He scans it intently, and turns around, headed for the door.

"Miles!" calls Merritt again, "We need to talk about the contract extension your agent faxed me this morning."

Miles stops, looks at the letter, and looks back at Merritt. "Not now."

"Now. Your agent was the one that wanted me at the fax machine at 8 a.m., you can give me fifteen minutes now."

Miles looks down at the letter and turns toward the door. "Not now, Chad." He starts walking away.

Deep breath.

"I'm tired of it, Craig. If you can't get your priorities in order, I'm sure as hell not paying to watch you go up in flames."

Miles nods thoughtfully, the wisps of smoke rising from his cigarette with each nod. "Did what'cha had t'do. Just like me. Later."

Merritt stands there, watching as his former Unified Tag Team Champion walks out the door. He barely feels the tap on his arm.

"Way to go, bossman," says Poison Ivy, who had been watching, "not everyone can make three choices at once by doing nothing."

Before Merritt can address her, Ivy heads off after Miles and Bandit.