The "Shark Hunt"

(The camera starts up and we are shown none other than Jacob Striker, dressed in a white Fu Manchu tank top and a pair of regular acid-wash blue jeans, sitting on a bench somewhere with a neutral expression on his face)

Jacob:
I am one of the hardest working me in professional wrestling, from bell to bell I bust my ass in that ring without hesitation or question or compliant and I’m always hungry to prove not only my worth but my willingness to fight in each and every match.

For instance I had Christopher Sabertooth over in World Wrestling Headquarters constantly put me down in the days leading up to that week’s Dystopia and constantly say that I wasn’t on his level because I was just some rookie and hadn’t won a world championship, so I was a non entity to him.

And yet, I’m the one who almost pinned him if half a dozen of the people gunning for him didn’t get involved.

Another example is my partner Lash and I were the one team that nobody thought could win the Black Waltz at the last chapter, we were the dark horse team...the one that everybody thought would be eliminated first or second if anything, a mere fucking footnote.

But in the end not only did Lash and I survive the entire Waltz, coming in as team number two but going through the whole thing to come out as *YOUR* Pro Wrestling Nova World Tag Team champions...Again, I earned my spot.

(Jacob stops and runs a hand through his short reddish-blonde hair, for a moment before shaking his head)

Jacob:
Just because I’m still in my rookie stages does not mean that I’m some kind of non-person that you can just shove off and think as a non-threat because I have proven myself time and time again that is anything but the case across every promotion that I’ve worked for and I’ve always upheld a certain code of honor.

Even though recent bullshit in NFW shows otherwise.

But when I was asked if I wanted to take some time off and heal after that hellacious tag team war match, I told the Nova front office that I wasn’t taking a break and I told them *EXACTLY* what I wanted.

I wanted you, Arata Asakura.

You see, you’re just like me in that you’re a rookie also but you’ve done far more than I have with several world titles under your belt and you’re what, only two years into your active career at most?

(Jacob shakes his head as he stands up, slips his hands into his pockets and starts to walk down one of the walkways, the camera following him)

Jacob:
But that begs the question doesn’t it, Arata? Can a guy like me who has only been doing this for eight months have the stones to face you on an even bases?

I think that I do and not only that but I also think that I can beat you.

I watched you on Wrestleworld’s Epicenter and saw how you handled it, the flair of arrogance in your every motion...you’ve let yourself become blinded by how many titles that you’ve won just like Christopher Sabertooth and so many others like you both.

While I can respect the man, I can’t respect what the man has become. I know that you’re proud of being a self made man, but you can’t be proud of the creature that wears your skin and at chapter four, I’m going to show you just how far that you’ve fallen.

I mean take a look at how you’re preparing for this match against me, Arata. I’ve waited for you to cut promo one, to say anything either positive or negative but yet you have said nothing.

Does this match mean so little to you that I’m not even on your radar despite how ready you are to face off against any other opponent that all of these other companies throw in your direction.

(Jacob stops and then points at the camera)

Jacob:
I’m sorry to disappoint you in the fact that I’m not Kai Stevens, Graham Baker, Christopher Sabertooth, Devon Slayton, or any one of the hundreds of much more experienced wrestlers that you are ready to fill your nights with, Arata. I’m a simple guy who is more than willing to make you tap out quickly and then get back to playing Mortal Kombat with his girls.

And that is *EXACTLY* what I’m going to do to you at Chapter Four, Arata. I’m going to beat you into a little pulp and then I’m going to make you out harder than you’ve ever tapped out before and then you can go about your merry little way again.

(He stops talking and lowers his finger, shaking his head for a moment before looking at the camera again)

Jacob:
I’m sorry if I sound like a broken record but very rarely as of late have I had a match that I was really looking forward to and this was one of them, I was expecting to hear the kind of words that someone with a desire for this sport just as strong as mine to echo at me with the reasons and the ways that I was going to regret asking for this match.

Instead I was met with day after day of silence.

But nonetheless, I spent day after day preparing...getting ready for my chance to show what I can do in that ring against someone of the caliber of Arata Askaura, the “Shogun of Wrestleworld”....only to find out that he’s about as on the dot as a drunk kabuki player.

So at chapter four, Arata. I don’t care who you are the moment that you step into that ring because you are stepping into the ring against one half of the Mechanical Animals, the true Golden Elite of this company. You’re going to be going up against the Real Rock’n’Rolla, the man who is too sweet to be sour, the man on the hour!

You are going up against the Warhorse of professional wrestling, Jacob Striker, and I’m going to make you famous, Arata, because you’re going to be in the ring against a future legend and while you can lay claim to doing all of this shit across other promotions, I want you to understand this;

You are in *MY* backyard now, Arata, and it’s time you understood why Pro Wrestling Nova is my *SHOGUNATE*!

See you tomorrow night, Arata. Enjoy your hell.

(Jacob walks away as the camera fades to black)