Pedestrians in bathing suits flood the area, all of them out enjoying the sun. The sounds of waves careening with the sand is audible as we find ourselves at Cocoa Beach. Children are seen building sand castles, running up and down the beachfront. As we pan along, people are shown just enjoying themselves on this beautiful Florida afternoon.
Soon we stumble upon the “Greatest Professional Wrestler of All Time”, lying on beach chair, under an umbrella. Which blocks the rays of sun from tanning his frame any further. He is dressed in a floral print silk shirt, complemented by matching swim trunks. Beaming brightly in the sunlight is his newly won HEC International Championship, strapped proudly around his waist.
As the cameras come closer to him, he removes his shades to give the viewers a better glance at his steely blue eyes. With a smug grin, Steele is to his feet ready to speak to the masses.
Clark Steele: Life is magnificent, when you're Clark Steele..
A waitress enters the scene, presenting a fancy drink on a tray. Which he takes, sipping on the glass pompously. He places it back on the tray onced finished. The waitress scurrying out of the view.
Clark Steele: I guess you can say, I'm on top of the WORLD!
He laughs, as a blonde short haired, bearded man, decked in a butler's get up, hands him a Cuban cigar. The man soon take a lighter out, setting the Cuban aflame. Clark takes a few puffs, before handing it back to the man.
Clark Steele: Eleven. Oh.. What does that means you may ask? That's how many times I've competed in a rumble atmosphere. Which more than likely, is more times collectively for CWF’s entire, pathetic roster. Four hours, fifty-nine minutes, and eighteen seconds. That's the cumulative time that I have competed in this type of contest. Zero. The number of times I've actually won the damn thing though. But I have made my Intentions Golden, and when that buzzer goes off, my number is called, and I enter that ring. All of you are just that much closer to immortality.
The Man of Steele laughs as a flock of people come rushing towards him for autographs. He signs a few, giving out high fives to some of the guys. Hugging some of the women as well, posing for quick photos with children. When he's done, he unstraps the championship, slinging it over his shoulder, patting it as he speaks again.
Clark Steele: You see THIS, was only the beginning. Beginning to what, you may ask… It's the beginning to my World Domination!
Clark holds his arms outstretched to his side as he continues.
Clark Steele: Can you feel it? I know I can.. The Greatest Professional Wrestler of All Time is here to stake his claim at the top. Xavier Hays was only a small glimpse into what I'm capable of doing. And I hope that all you pieces of shit were paying close attention. Because what you all are witnessing before your eyes is the TAKEOVER of the Man of Steele! I'm not going to lie, when I first received my invitation.. I laughed it off, I found it very amusing actually. But then I thought about it, I'm Clark “fucking” Steele, and it doesn't matter who even dared to say they enter this rumble. Because I'm playing for keeps, and once that final bell rings, and my hand is raised in victory. No longer will the question be, who the fuck is this guy? But where the fuck has he been all our lives? See you bitches in Philly..
Is heard coming from a director who is now shown sitting in his own personal chair. A makeup crew running in to pamper Clark.
Clark Steele: That'll do..
Director: Are you sure? We can do another take if you like, Mr. Steele.
Clark Steele: It'll do. And would tell these peasants to get the fuck off me!
The makeup crew all dash in different directions as the irritation level seems to be at an all time high for Clark.
Clark Steele: Where’s my drink?
The waitress from earlier returns with his glass, handing it to him as he takes a sip.
Clark Steele: Ahhhhh… I needed that… Someone bring my car around so I can leave this dump.
With that, Clark walks away still sipping on the glass, the picture soon fading out.