Leroy sits in the lockerroom. The bile rips at the back of his throat. He looks into the eyes of the young interviewer. He can't remember her name. There are so many new people around its almost not worth the trouble. Such an innocuous question too. How do you feel about getting stripped of your title shot, and then getting taken off the following show entirely?

Interviewer - Mr. Brown. We're live. People want to know how you feel.

Leroy - How do I feel? You stupid bitch.

Leroy plants the palm of his hand into her face and pushes her to the ground. She lands awkwardly and her cameraman starts to lower his equipment so he can check on her, but Leroy grabs the camera lens.

Leroy - Keep this fucking camera on me. Me. I am a somebody. She is a nobody.

Cameraman - Hey man. I don't need this abuse. So how about you shut up and let me help my frie.....

The cameraman doesn't even get to finish his sentence. Steel meets jaw. Steel beats jaw. The cameraman's mouth implodes in a maelstrom of teeth and blood. Leroy unwraps the linked steel chain from around his gloved hand. Slowly. Deliberately. None of the momentary rage can be seen now. It has dissipated back into the ether. Leroy grabs the camera and walks into the hallway. He sets up the camera on a table.

Leroy - There. Now you can here me above the screams.

There is only so many times a man can be disrespected. At some point any individual will find his tipping point. A person can only be tethered to someone else's ideals for so long. Leroy Brown is a facade. He has always been imaginary construct. Built to be the facsimile of real person. Created so that a girl called Kristina could love a man like me.

Yeah. Well that girls gone. She left. She never looked back.

Fucked Leroy over good. But apparently that's what Leroy's here for.

Acid Jackrabbit fucked me over by taking my title shot. Thanks dad.

Valerie Stern fucked me over by dropping me to the bottom of the card.

Matt Strikemore fucked me over by saying this place is about wrestling. He doesn't think I can wrestle? I will break his head open and piss on his cerebellum.

Stephen Hawthorne fucked me over by wasting my title shot.

P fucking D fucking fucks me over just by existing.

This whole company fucked me over when they stole my name.

And now some guy called Kinsen wants to fuck me over by having me lower myself to his level. If he had any respect, he'd forfeit the match. But he won't. So I'm going to have to end this travesty before it begins. Before my name can be tarnished by his mediocrity.

Watch out Kinsen.

That's the only warning you'll get.

"Who the hell is this guy?"

Heads turned as the door opened...eyes stared as none other than a young looking boy...with a feline ears and tail...REAL ones, stepping in. He smiled and purred slightly, before looking at all the expressions, and his mouth opened to speak...

Oreo: "What's the matter with you? Never seen a bona fide neko before?"

His voice was clearly Irish, and had an uplifting tone to it. He smiled and sat down next to the interviewer.

Oreo: "Oy."

Interviewer: "Who're you?"

Oreo: "Just stoppin' here for my debut interview. Miss Stern wanted me to introduce myself."

Interviewer: "Okay, but I hope you're nicer than the last guy who we interviewed."

Oreo just smiled a warming smile at her, and looked to the camera.

Oreo: "What're ya waitin' for? Hit the bleedin' record button!"

*beep*

Cameraman: "In 5, 4, 3, 2...."

...

Interviewer: "And here I'm standing by with a new arrival here in Twisted Championship Wrestling, and boy is he a cute one! Let's give him a warm welcome!"

Oreo: "Name's Oreo. Now just by looking at me and hearin' my name you want to laugh, right? Well let me tell you something...laugh. Get it out of your system. Yeah, I don't mind. People need to laugh once in a while, and if you want to laugh with me or at me that's fine. I can be silly...but I can also be serious. So when I do wrestle, don't take me lightly."

Interviewer: "Do you have any goals in TCW?"

Oreo: "I just want to have some good clean fun, nya? I'm about entertainment. I love a good fight...it gets the blood going, and the adrenaline rushing...but when it's in front of a crowd, that's all multiplied ten times. I want to show everyone a good time. I don't care if they put me against the champ or a jobber...I'm going to go out there and do what I like to do best."

Interviewer: "What's your finisher?"

Oreo: "Now that would be telling, wouldn't it? Mrowr. But I'll do you a favor, lass, since you're so nice, and tell you what they're called...the Catnap, and the Tiger Lock. Believe me, you'll know when you see them."

Interviewer: "Currently, your first match is a four way against Twisted Brown, Kinsen, and Shock. What's your thoughts on those competitors?"

Oreo: "Honestly? I don't know anything about them. But I can't wait to meet 'em! I've heard there's a lot of interesting characters in this federation and I thought, hey, that suits me nicely, so I'll join! The last promotion I was with was an independent promotion in America...I believe you'd call that 'hardcore wrestling'. It was fun bashing people with foreign objects, but it's the people I want to meet."

Interviewer: "That should wrap it up. Anything else you'd like to say?"

Oreo: "Yeah, can I show ya' a magic trick? It's one of my favorites."

Interviewer: "Sure."

Oreo: "I'm just going to need to assistance of the kind lad over there...would you turn the lights off for 5 seconds please?"

And one by one, the lights went out, until Oreo and the interviewer were shrouded in darkness.

When the lights came on...

Interviewer: "What? He's gone!"

Security Guard: "How did he get out without opening the door?"

Indeed, he had simply...disappeared.

Two hours later, Leroy Brown would see this interview on the official TCW website.

And two seconds later, the monitor would be tossed out the hotel room window.

Leroy: "Another freak wants to fuck with me? Fine. I won't give him any mercy. I don't care how many names they stack up against me...they're all footnotes. I'm not going to wrestle a wrestling match. I'm going to commit a massacre."

"And I'm going to do it right...now."

Grabbing the nearest foreign object, he strode out of his hotel room.

----

Kinsen had seen both interviews, and wasn't too thrilled. He had some crazy guy who was probably going to jump him from behind, and some kind of...mutant cat-person who could disappear in the blink of an eye as his opponents. And he didn't even know anything about this 'Shock' person.

Despite his worries though, he was also excited.

Because no matter who his first match was against, he was going to finally have the opportunity to showcase himself outside of Japan after all of his training. He wondered how the TCW audiences would take to a Japanese-trained wrestler...Japanese wrestlers focused more on big, inventive moves and trained rigorously for a more athletic program. American wrestling promotions tended to all focus on storyline and flashy moves...would he be forced to modify his moveset now that he was back in America?

Kinsen: "Leroy Brown, whoever you are...come and get me. I'm waiting."

The most interesting thing of all?

All four of our competitors were staying in the same hotel...

Doubtless they'd run into each other sooner or later...

Leroy Brown strode down the hallway of the hotel, the lamp from his hotel room desk held in his hand. He stopped in front of the elevator, pushing the button repeatedly, hoping the elevator would arrive faster. The doors pinged open, and Brown found himself facing Kinsen.

“You!” Kinsen yelled.

“You!” Brown returned. He swung the lamp at Kinsen, who ducked the blow.

“You seem to be very angry at everyone.” Kinsen said to Brown, who stared daggers at him. “Ever consider maybe it’s your fault?”

Brown swung the lamp again, and Kinsen caught the lamp inches from his face.

“So what excuse will you give when I beat you?”

Brown continued to stare at him.

“That won’t happen buddy, I would never lose to a freak like you.”

“Well, since you claim Ms. Stern dropped you to the bottom of the card, it would seem that you’re pretty easy to beat.”

Brown swung the lamp again at Kinsen, who ducked the blow. The lamp did solidly connect with the man/cat who had snuck up behind Kinsen, knocking him to the floor.

Both men now turned to stare at Oreo as he lay unconscious on the floor.

“Fucker is pretty ugly up close, huh?” Brown said to Kinsen.

“What is it?” Kinsen wondered alound. He looked to Brown, and the two remembered that they had been in the midst of a fight when Oreo arrived. Kinsen took off down the hall, with Brown and his lamp in close pursuit. Little did they know, the fourth man in their match, Shock, stood waiting just around the corner, and he too held a foreign object…..

Shock had grabbed some live wires. His plan was to give some shock treatment. However he was shocked to find that he was not immune to electrocution himself. Shock got shocked. Shocking. Truly shocking.

Leroy trailed down the corridor with the jagged remnants of his bedside lamp in his hand. He really had just come to the end of his tether with this stupid company. Irish Genetic freaks. Where you shitting me. His father was the Acid Jackrabbit, the biggest genetic freak ever to come out of the emerald isle. He stopped in his tracks. It was too big a co-incidence. Damn you, dad. When would you stop meddling in my affairs. And was that the smell of smoke. Not important.

Leroy doubled back. He came up to the now stirring body of Oreo.

Twisted - I forgot my manners. Welcome to Twisted Championship Wrestling. They stole that name from me, amongst other things.

A size eight boot, and average size for a professional wrestler, especially a blue eyed one, connected with the furried face of Oreo.

Twisted - I hear you love hardcore.

He now rubbed the boot into the face of Oreo.

Twisted - I hear you lived hardcore.

He spits on his opponent. The is no respect to be found in this mans heart any more.

Twisted - Well I am going to give you a new definition of hardcore. Tell my father he can send as many freaks as he wants after me. I will break my way through each and every person in this company till I'm the only one left.

Leroy grabs the flex attached to the plug of the lamp. He rips it out of the back of the lamp. He slowly, deliberately starts to wrap it around his opponent's neck. He leans back, his foot on the chest of his new found rival.

He takes up the slack. The cord begins to tighten, like a constrictor that has entangled its prey. Oreo starts to choke.

Twisted - Lets see if you need to breathe, freak. Maybe you got gills sticking out of your ass or something. You beeter hope you do, cause thats about all thats going to sav..........

A sweetly performed kick connects to the rear of the skull of one Leroy "Twisted" Brown. He rolls back in shock. A two footed dropkick propels him back into the elevator. The doors conveniently closes before Twisted can regain his senses.

The lights dim and go out.

In moments they return. Kinsen looks to check on his fallen opponent, Oreo. Another difference between his homeland and this american organization is respect. There appears to be none in his new professional home.

Kinsen stares at where Oreo should be lying, but there is nothing left except the cord, still looped like it hadn't been removed, and the shards of lamp.

A man ran past him on fire. As Kinsen was quickly coming to learn, such things happened all the time in TCW and in quick order, he would soon stop being shocked at all.