As the ever-entertaining Monday Night Mayhem broadcasts live after a lengthy commercial break, a bird's-eye view of the arena is seen by television sets world-wide, as Mike Huntsicker and Jerry Byerline are heard welcoming back the faithful PCW aficionados to the 2-hour show.

Mike Welcome back Ladies and Gentlemen to a sold out crowd tonight on Monday Night Mayhem! So far it has been a heck of an evening, as we've witnessed Ayster, our World Heavyweight Champion, align himself with Jack Stantz! What else could happen here tonight to even match that magnitude of ---


Nearly instantaneously following Huntsicker's works, something does happen.


"We are the Sons and Daughters of a revolution..."

The spoken words audibly fluctuate as if being heard ethereally as the arena is swarmed by a wave of gentle darkness, alleviating the light to be focused mainly on the flashing screen above the stage.

As subtle theme music plays softly in the background, the screen displays sequential scenes of despair and devastation throughout human history in a matter of seconds amidst the dark, all amounting to a statement of consistent struggle against the zeitgeist of each age. As though it were an eye lapsing images throughout history, the viewers see sights of various Earthly landscapes, wall-carvings, symbols, old paintings, early battleships, empty shackles, scenes of western conquest, warfare, the ravaging effect of industry on nature, modern wars and the rise of fascism, nuclear detonations, the 9/11 terrorist attack and to the present day familiarity of the stream of commuters moving to and from their employments in the shadow of skyscrapers and cities.

All of these vivid depictions, as obvious and blatant as they speak to the live audience, simply resonate one constant – the suffering through exploitation and mis-creation.


Mike: Do you... Are you thinking what I’m thinking Jerry?!

Jerry: Hopefully never, heh, but all kidding aside...

Mike: But so soon? Could it be?

Despite the audible exchange, the background sounds still amass and build to a crescendo, and the final image of the Earth setting below the moon’s horizon proceeds to shrink and zoom outward, revealing a web-like matrix of video images surrounding it that accelerate into what appears to be an eternal landscape of individual screens, until ultimately becoming so small that it simply retracts into a singularity – a condensed black screen.

With the audio nearly detonating the stadium at full blast, viewers finally witness the stage as it’s become bathed in beaming white lights, electrifying the crowd to an uproar of curious excitement... however, the anticipated figure upon the stage is strangely unrecognizable, cloaked as though he were simply a silhouette, completely contrasting his brightly-lit environment. Regardless of the baffled mass, the undisclosed figure possesses the stage firmly, arms stretched and clenched as though he were absorbing the energy of the environment, just soaking in the moment right before ---

“THWOOM!”

In a swift crushing noise, the lights instantly give way to flashing blue and purple strobes, leaving upon the stage the figure now visible by one spotlight, offering the Superstar to the audience in both a visible and ultra-violet hue. At first, only some of the live audience roars cheers at the sight, however the rest remain patiently interested at the hooded individual, donned in the now-glowing garb of a pleather jacket and faded blue jeans with boots, as he gazes downward, calmly accepting the unmistakably feverish reaction to the entrance video’s proclamation of, amongst blue lightning flashes, the name “MP3”.


Princess Brandi Frye: Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome to PCW a very special Guest; hailing from Long Island, New York, he is the WAF’s Modern Day Marvel, M........P.......3!!!

Unable to with-hold his eager excitement any longer, the returning MP3 finally tosses back his draping hood to reveal a gleaming grin nearly from ear to ear, and as flashbulbs dance in the reflection of his eyes, the former idol of WAF fame spans the teeming audience from left to right, visibly taken back by the overwhelmingly positive and generous reception - upon a foreign federation, no less. Nodding his head in appreciation, the Soul That Burns gestures and points to the fans signifying his reciprocation of their ardor as he brings his hand through his mildly long hair, and, after nearly two long and lonely years in exile, once again takes the walk down the aisle he’d missed for so long, meaning that once again, he has the privilege of entertaining a world-wide audience... and that’s all he’d ever wanted in the first place.


Mike: Yes! It is him, it's one of the most influential young athletes to ever participate in our profession... and after almost two long years, Jerry, two LONG years of absence, The Soul That Burns, The Modern Day Marvel, MP3, he is BACK in the spotlight once again, and it’s happening here on Monday Night Mayhem! Do you believe this ovation here in PCW??

Jerry: I’m at a loss for words Mike, this is... Wow, what a comeback!

Mike: PCW may not know him as intimately as WAF viewers might, but for those not up to speed, MP3 has time and again showed himself to have an incredible heart and passion, enough so to make him World Champion by age 21, and after taking time off he is back in the saddle and looking great.

Jerry: Well, we all knew he was eyeing Jailbreak as his time to have his say, but this is a complete surprise. One thing’s for sure though, no one seems to be outraged over false advertising!

Mike: MP3 obviously has a reason for coming out now of all times, but I just wonder what that reason is…

Trekking down the ramp to “Reflect The Storm” by In Flames, Priest passes his hand through the front row’s along his way, and halts at the ringside area, evidentially electrified by the thousands on their feet for his long-awaited appearance as he hops in place to get his adrenaline flowing. A noticeable smirk is spread on his face as revealed by a ringside camera, as well as the addition of twin white streaks of hair resting further down his neck than the rest, sitting on either side of a small tattoo of what laymen would describe as a modified infinity symbol. Still, albeit a new time and chapter for him, MP3 feels as natural as ever despite treading on PCW grounds, and nearly jumps the ring, immediately mounting a turnbuckle to taunt for the first time in a long time, allowing his expensive ring jacket to fall to the canvas.

Jerry: Hey, it may have been an exile to him, but to most anyone else he must have washed ashore on a spa... can’t accuse MP3 of being a slouch.

Mike: And I’ll just get it out right now, being a PCW contributor MP3 has gone through drug testing and is perfectly clean. That’s 100% hard work right there.

Jerry: The kid packs a lot on a small frame... but is he here to wrestle? He’s not dressed for it at least.

Mike: Do I look like Billy the Answer Head to you?

Jerry: Nah, just a Billy goat, but be that as it may…


Dressed in a black tank top, the Soul Warrior’s muscular physique is as pertinent as ever, proving his consistent training despite having not been in action professionally. Showing hints of bashfulness at the continuing ovation, the former World Champion accepts the microphone from a forward Brandi Frye, who seems to impart a few quick welcoming words, and as she steps from the ring, a feint chant can somewhat be made out of his name as he prepares to address the crowd.

His bright smile eventually parlays itself into something more exacting with a flick of his hair, and a rejuvenated MP3 glares into the ringside camera to deliver his message, 20 months since his departure from the limelight that made him a star.

Jerry: Almost two years we haven't seen this remarkable individual... what's he got to say?

Realizing a sentimental moment when it presents itself, the electric personality of the former lifeblood of the WAF condenses his vigor to focus on one single statement.


MP3: PCW - Your Revolution, has arrived.

A buzzed silence ensues in the still-thrilled arena, as the audience members try to grasp what he’s talking about.

MP3: That’s exactly right... YOUR Revolution. And it’s YOUR Revolution now PCW, because it entails what YOU ALL come here to see – it’s a Revolution of Quality.... A Revolution of Talent.... A Revolution of Honor.... And, above all else, a Revolution of Excellence. The path to success of your new beginning is rooted in your traditional ways, and it is my privilege, PCW, to guide you to new heights.

Applauds and cheers clamor, and soon die down allowing him to continue.

MP3: But.... the question is, what is all this talk of revolution I’m spouting? Have I forgotten where I stand in my chronology here? Now now, I don’t need to remind anyone; I’ve been missing for nearly two years. For me, that’s a damn aeon... That is a lifetime of seething, brooding, watching intently as the world turns, unmoved by what novices have to offer. Well, it doesn’t take much of a genius to figure it out... it can’t go on this unsatisfied, not while I’m around, anyway. Not when I’ve got the ability to shake this world to it’s very core... and that’s EXACTLY what I promise I will do here in PCW...


The crowd murmurs to itself still while cheering, perplexed by his appetizing insinuations.

Mike: Does that mean… MP3 plans on wrestling here?

Jerry: Hell, he’s either planning to wrestle, or planning to show us how to use a Bowflex machine better than Chuck Norris Mike.

MP3 laughs to himself as his eyes dart around the stands, respecting the interested reaction of the live crowd that is largely behind his every word.


MP3: Yeah, you heard me right. You’re witnessing a new era... And this IS a revolution. The new energy is upon us; there’s only one way to go and that way is up. And I don’t care if I need to bring us there with the weight breaking my back, because the only choice is to make certain that you, the fans, are respected and counted... What better way to bring that about than to have me return to active competition right here in PCW?!


Jerry: There’s your answer Mike! MP3’s apparently a member of PCW now!

With that one rhetorical question, the crowd proudly shows their support for MP3 with echoing cheers. Looking brightly, Priest peers toward the farthest seats, but adopts a somewhat sterner countenance than before, allowing the applause to simmer before making his point. He tilts his head, seemingly bothered by a thought at the back of his mind.

MP3: You see, there’s only one way to make change, and that’s by being the change. You’ve got to be the agent, the example, the ... Martyr, even. And no, I’m not afraid to put myself there or say that I’ve used myself that way before to bring about a change, because I have. I was there when The Goddess wrapped my heart around her finger, I was there when I was betrayed by my former friend Double R, and yeah, I was there when the WAF closed its doors after giving everything I had to keep them open. Yet, despite all of those exposures, I remain richer and stronger, and I have altered everyone's directions as a result. And, hell, while I’ve been away from competition, I’ve only discovered – like many of you have – that our world is hardly what we were told it was as children. It’s really a place where the dirtiest lead and the religion is ruthless greed, and I realize that seems cliché, but it’s fathoms more true than a simple saying. Our revolution is just as much of one as it is an oppression, and that brings me to WHY I’m here. Why am I’m going to help PCW, anyway...?

The crowd listens intently as the once-jubilant Superstar adopts a more aggressive tone to his voice.

MP3: ...Because certain people here, don’t deserve the trust that comes with competing in this ring, after showing their true selves through both words and actions. Certain individuals, without reason, simply cannot control their... Hate...


A semblance of inclination ripples inside the arena, as some of the audience catches onto MP3’s diatribe. MP3 begins to pace the canvas.

MP3: Now, certainly, being yourself is encouraged... but NOT when you’re annihilating careers... No, excuse me... LIVES, as if they were mere afterthoughts. No indeed, they aren’t afterthoughts at all... They are the blood that flows through my veins and fuels my very fabric. They are the glowing memories of injustice. And, if there’s one thing that I won’t allow to live, it’s unjust pride. (Priest closes his eyes, then re-opens them, renewed) You don’t know me, Hatey... But that’s when I stop being a man, and start being your worst nightmare.


Mike: Uh... Is he-, he on about the "Hatey" that I think he’s going on about?

Jerry: MP3 made a great return here tonight Mike, I don’t get it, why is he going down this path so soon? It’s like a ticker tape parade getting caught in a firestorm.

Mike: I’m inclined to agree there, Jerry. MP3 got as much of a great ovation from this crowd as one can expect, why is he taunting......Him?


As though he were in a completely different world entirely, the Soul That Burns finally resembles the image of why he initially earned such a brazen title, as he fumes a heated glare toward the direction of the locker room, unthwarted by the impressions of any others.

After a few seconds of confusing tension, Priest finds the will in him to take a breath through his nose, and blinks, looking to his side, nearly ironically. Seemingly conscious now of how he allowed himself to behave, a sardonic smile spreads across his face as he raises the microphone.

MP3: You get MP3, PCW... But never, ever, without the Soulfire.

As he brings his hands through his hair, “Reflect The Storm” plays over the PA system once more, and the Modern Day Marvel looks around innocently, trying to swallow the venom he’d invoked moments ago. The faces of his fans reach him once again, and along with the support of the PCW staff in attendance, they bring him to smile once more, as he goes to leave the ring, having said his piece.

Jerry: Well, looks like we were formally introduced to the man they call The Soul That Burns after all, Mike. I just wonder if that hot head and those crazy ideas will do him more harm than good. This isn’t WAF, that’s for sure.

Mike: Indeed Jerry, and I ---




Remarkably, as MP3 is in the midst of shaking random hands at ringside, the lights black out completely, leaving a thick air of tension and downright fear lingering in the air. As disorientation and even horror sets in for some, a familiar sound is heard, signaling the realization of MP3's dreams sooner than he could hope for a sanctioned match... MUCH sooner.