The lights dim, the crowd in silence from what is about to bestow upon them. We are given a pan of the entire arena and it's masses. Slowly, the camera pans in to the fixed stage-in, as a cloud of smoke billows from beneath. It rises in massive amounts, hiding what force is contained behind it. Suddenly, with the flick of a switch, a man explodes through the smoke, donning ebony shades. He mouths "Deal with it", a confident smirk slapped upon his facial features. He lofts a brow and runs a hand through his hair, before grabbing the frame of his shades removing them. Introductions are necessary, and he is the one to give it. Reaching into his back pocket, he shuffles to grab the hilt of his "gun", bringing it forth to reveal his voice, the mouthpiece known as a microphone to captivate the thousands in attendance. But before one can even fathom his presence... Bang, you're dead. The lights return to reveal the crime scene, catching it's criminal in the act. T N @ L X |?| Total Non-Stop @ L X “I've decided to mix things up tonight. I've decided that there's only one way to make an entrance, and that's in character, but what the suits and ties in the back won't tell you is behind closed doors. Allow me to open those doors right now, break kayfabe and shed a light on the subject. This is Out of Character... and I'm breakin' the fourth wall in.” He receives a mixture of cheers and jeers from the interactive audience, as he twirls the microphone back up to under his chin. T N @ L X |?| Total Non-Stop @ L X “Let's skip the formalities, or rather, run through them quickly. Get the intros outta the way, shall we? We shall. Alright, I know I'm young-blood, fresh at the age of twenty-two, for you obvious commentators spectatin'. My favorite professional wrestlers? Hands down in order of their impact on my life. Alex Shelley, the best Chain-Wrestler in the universe today, Talent on Loan from God. CM Punk, whether heel or face he has never been one to not amaze me. Hell, I got my spunk from Punk. I'm not even holding a microphone right now.” Suddenly, the microphone is gone. His fist claims air, as it is beneath his chin. T N @ L X |?| Total Non-Stop @ L X “And finally, Bryan Danielson, hands down the greatest submissionist of our time, and if it weren't for William Regal, I would have never loved watching dark matches in the WWF between those two. Surely it takes a great mentor to form the greatest of all-time. There's not a lot you need to know about me, but if you pick up what I'm layin' down then I shall inform you. I help run a federation called New International Wrestling Alliance. A dedicated commmunity, much like the one before me, we strive for what you strive for. An Alliance amongst wrestlers? Yeh, it could happen. United, we wrestle! Sure, we all might be geeks, but we're the most hardcore geeks you could ever raise an eyebrow to. We wrap our wrists in tape. We boot up the Playstation 3, and we mash the holy spectrum of colors out of those buttons. At the end of the day, the product we provide is bar none, awesome from my perspective as a fan. Hard work, dedication. You all know what it's like to put your "all" into something, just look around at these forums! We aim to entertain the masses, draw them to want more. We fight each other in the most brutal bouts escalating to the heights of Rock vs. Austin amongst our hierarchy... Well one can dream, can't they? And where there are dreamers there are believers... Believe this, you're lookin' at... NOT THE BEST IN THE WORLD!” He suddenly takes off down the ramp, arms erect, fingers held up towards the sky, screaming "YES! YES! YES! YES!" at the top of his lungs, surely enough from this speed his only downfall is tripping... ... And that's all I have. I feel like I achieved victory. But truly... All I achieved is "Who is this guy, and why a wall of text?" ... My badass introduction? Close enough.