Pancakes.

We open inside The Casino, too a hallway that shows a door, and next to this door on the upper right hand side is a light bulb. Not just any old white light bulb, a bright glowing red one. A few seconds pass before the good Doctor, James Preston, walks into the scene holding an envelope and grabs the door handle, looking up at the light before turning the knob. He hesitates before deciding to go in. A few seconds pass before he backs out with Davey Ortega in front of him, a very annoyed look on his face.

Davey Ortega: Preston, did you not notice the light?

Preston: I did.

Davey: And you do know what that light means right?

Preston: Well, going back to the rail roads days it means there is a brothel beyond that door.

Davey: Yes, because I would surely invite two dollar whores into the inner workings of my Casino. Try again.

Preston: You were developing film?

Davey: ....You're doing this on purpose aren't you?

Preston: Well it's stupid.

Davey: It is not stupid. That is my work, I was cutting a great prmo for CPW and you just barge right in. Do I disturb you when you are ''working''? Do I insult your profession?

Preston: Every chance you get.

Davey: Well of course. All you guys do is blame the mother and prescribe happy pills. Anyone can play the same chord for different songs.

Preston: OK..one if I truly believed there was ANY sort of pill, or combination of pills, that could cure the rat maze you call your brain you would of gobbled them up like mints for the last seven years. And two, same chord different song, that make no sense.

Davey: It makes perfect sense you just don't get it. Now please, tell me what was so important that you had to interrupt a masterpiece?

Davey begins to mutter under his breath, not much can be heard but we do hear the word ''incompetent'' clearly. Preston hands him the envelope, Which Davey begins to open.

Davey: So the mail came and today's the day you decided to deliver it to me.

Inside the envelope was a letter, a very special letter.

Davey: Ohh...This..

Davey looks at Preston.

Davey: This was worth the interruption. Do you know what this is?

Preston: A letter...?

Davey: THE letter. This is the letter I have been waiting for. This letter is going to pave the way for my future.

Preston: Oh, the formal acceptance letter from CPW? Finally send all your information in for insurance reasons?

Davey: ....No, put that in a memo though. This is more than CPW. Preston, I'm expanding the business.

Preston: What do you mean?

Davey: I have been after this prime piece of real estate. Preston this place is just...well...divine really. Perfect place to set up the first of many establishments.

Preston: Another casino?

Davey: No, a new venture. All I needed was to get the owners to sell and they finally have. I tell you Preston, sometimes I amaze myself.

Preston: ...What? What do you mean?

Davey looks at Preston as a devious smile curls across his lips. A look of concern flashes Preston's.

Preston: What did you do?

Davey: I may of offered some unique persuasion...

Preston slowly takes the letter from Davey's grip, carefully reading it over.

Preston: Davey, this says you bought a convent...?

Davey: Technically the land that the convent stands on. I'm going to demolish the eye soar and create the first ever Filthy Rich Spa. With the catch phrase being ''If you have to ask, you can't afford.''

Preston: But...how? How did you convince them to sell?

Davey: If by convince you mean forced it was actually very simple. You see one of their recruits has a nasty gambling problem. All it took was correct advertising and giving her just enough line of credit to hang herself with. I threaten to sue, the sect gives in. I never understood that one for all, all for one jargon.

Preston: So you exposed her weakness...

Davey: Exactly.

Preston: I see...

Davey: I thought you might.

Preston: You're Satan.

Davey: I prefer the term Genius though that word has been used to describe me.

Preston: You are forcing people out of there home, how are you in any way not like Satan at this point?

Davey: It's not my fault that this happened. I did not tell her to spend more than she could pay. My hand did not guide her's when placing that last bet on black 34. Who the hell bets on black anyways? Besides, they are Nuns...I'm sure ''God'' will provide.

Davey laughs slightly at his own joke.

Preston: You may not have directly told her but you encouraged her I'm sure.

Davey: Yes, I encouraged her to dream, to want to hit it big. What's wrong with that? Have big dreams, want bigger things. It's the American way, I mean...even our own King encourages the lucky peasant.

Preston: You don't believe in Kings.

Davey: Or Gods, but I am making a point here. Even Adam Knite encouraged his opponent to go all out, balls to the wall. Have that dream. That dream that keeps you up at night. Gnawing at you, making you want it. Though what's worse is you start to believe it. That false belief is what people like Adam and I strive for, we want our opponents believing AND..if at all possible knowing they can enter any situation and best us. We want them having the confidence and hopefully cockiness, we want all that for one reason. The victory is so much sweeter when you destroy someone who actually thought they stood a chance. Physical scars heal, but mental scars? They haunt you for life.

The fact is you may think of me as Satan, the Devil...any evil name you want really but I see myself as the tried and true American. On the cusp of the American dream. I can not tell you how much I want this dream...I want to own a spa that only caters to the finest, I want my casino to rise above and crush any opposition...even God's. I want to represent CPW as it's first North American Champion...and Preston, what I want most of all is for you to leave so I can return to my masterpiece.

With a sigh, Preston turned around and walk off scene, leaving Davey to return into the room with the red light still luminescent.

So here we are, and I would like to ask any doubters one simple question...''How do you like me now?''

I said I would prove myself, show everyone that I was worth my weight in gold and I did it. I beat one of the men that may be CPW's future leading man. A possible future World Champion. He can make up excuses until potatoes grow, the fact is he took his eye off the ball, something I will not do.

To my silent opponent, to the man who has yet to utter so much as a breath I want you to know one thing. You are not in any way, shape or form the ''Personification of Wrestling.'' Honestly from what I have seen...you are ''Pancake Personified''? Maybe the ''French Toast Extreme''? Maybe I should expand on the analogy.

You see, I am a huge breakfast fan. Any time is bacon and eggs time I say. Though their are some items that just get over hyped. I love pancakes, though eating pancakes for a week I would want something different. You are the pancake Kevin. Sure you can run out there with your same rhetoric and boring moves but after the fifth time, people get bored. And boredom kills interest.

That is where I come in.

I can not let people be bored, I can not let the fans just have pancakes. I have to offer them an alternative. I have to be the person, the ''face'' they look too so when they ask ''Should we trust Kevin Allen with representing us?'' I can proudly say...

NO!!

Do not buy Kevin Allens Pancakes, do not buy into his rhetoric and do not, under any circumstances, believe in his shbleep

Shbleep...

Davey rolls his eyes.

Davey: SHIT! Guess I owe CPW a fine now.

Davey rolls his eyes as the scene fades to black.