There Will Be Blood! (WCFWrestling.com exclusive)

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The crushing doom metal riffs of Pentagram's "Nothing Left" blast through the speakers of Des Moines, Iowa's Water Works Park, greeting the thousands of WCF fans who have shown up early for XIII. In one section of the park an interview area has been set up. Hank Brown is stationed there in front of a large backdrop that has the totally kick-ass XIII logo emblazoned upon it. Hank actually looks rather dapper this evening, in contrast to his typical slovenly appearance. Hank is wearing a slick-looking charcoal-colored suit and a blue tie, and his hair is neatly coiffed. He almost looks handsome! Of course, Hank is holding a microphone, he is on the clock after all.

Hank checks his watch as he waits for the next WCF superstar to make his or her way to the interview area. As if on cue, WCF Hardcore Champion Phillip Baines walks into the frame decked out in his full wrestling gear, namely a vibrantly-colored singlet and silver moon boots. Phil has the Hardcore Championship belt straddled over his left shoulder and a look of supreme confidence plastered upon his face. Hank smiles at Phil and offers him a handshake. Phil hesitates for a moment before obliging him.

Phil: I gotta admit, you clean up pretty well, Hank. I almost didn't recognize you at first.

Hank: Thanks! I paid two-hundred dollars for this suit at Men's Warehouse. I wanted to look good for the show.

Phil: I hear that, man. This is a big one tonight. WCF keeps churning out classic shows, one after another. Timebomb raised the bar and then Explosion plowed right through the fucking bar. I think XIII is gonna top both of em.

Hank: I hope so. According to the front office XIII has already topped a million pay-per-view buys!

Phil lets out a sly whistle.

Phil: Daaaaamn. That's money in the bank, homie. Those folks are gonna get their money's worth, that's for damn sure. You know that Phil Baines delivers the goods each and every got-damn time he steps into the ring!

Phil mugs for the camera, which is not yet turned on.

Hank: I can't argue with you there, Phil. You have been one of the greatest success stories of 2011 here in WCF, and in all of sports for that matter. Let's see if we can't drive that buyrate even higher with one of your trademark no holds barred interviews, eh?

Phil: Absolutely. That's the only reason why I'm talking to you, Hank.

Hank looks sad.

Phil: Nah, I'm just kidding. You my homie, Hank!

Hank looks happy! He cues for the cameraman to begin rolling.

Hank: Hello, WCF Universe! This is Hank Brown! I want to thank each and every one of you for joining us here on the XIII pre-event show at WCFWrestling.com! I also want to remind you that if you haven't already ordered XIII on pay-per-view, you still have time!

Hank vigorously nods his head, encouraging viewers to shell out their $59.99 for the show.

Hank: Joining me at this time is one of WCF's most popular young superstars, WCF Hardcore Champion Phillip Baines! Phil, I want to thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to do this interview. I know that you're a very busy man right now, as you prepare to defend your Hardcore Championship against Greenfever in the most harrowing of matches to ever be contested inside of a WCF ring... the Flatliner match!

Phil: No problem, Hank. Yeah I've been busy but really I've been ready to go ever since Greenfever challenged me to this match last month. Since then I've been chomping at the bit, just waiting for Friday the 13th to finally roll around on my calendar and now it's here. I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve right now, Hank. I'm giddy at the thought of the plentiful bounty that awaits me in mere hours. Having the opportunity to end The Omega Greenfever's life and career in one fell swoop is the greatest gift that I have ever been given, and I just want to thank Creeping Death and Greenfever himself for making this match possible.

Hank: I have to hand it to you, Phil. You sound supremely confident.

Phil nods his head.

Hank: You look confident too. How do you feel knowing that the stakes in this match are literally life and death? I mean, let's face it, the Hardcore Championship is at stake but it's secondary to the real issue that's at hand in this match: One man will have his heart stopped and that... that's deathly serious.

Phil: You hit the nail on the head, Hank. To reference one of my all-time favorite movies... There Will Be Blood! This match is about more than the Hardcore Championship, as important and prestigious as that championship is. It's about fighting for survival. I'm a Darwinist. I believe in natural selection, the survival of the fittest. That's why this match is perfect. It ensures that only the fittest warrior among us will survive. I'm sure that many men would be scared to death to step into the ring with Greenfever under the rules of a normal one-on-one match, or even a handicap match where the numbers are in their favor, but when you consider that this is a match with absolutely no rules, no limits, where the object is to basically murder your opponent? My God... how many men would even consider accepting that challenge? Yet here I am, preparing to go to war with Greenfever in that very match. How do I feel? I have no fear. None. There is not an ounce of trepidation in my mind, body and soul. I'm like Joss Stone in that sense.

Hank: I do not precisely understand the correlation, but please continue.

Phil: Hank, I knew from the moment that I walked into this company that I would have to prove myself time and time again against the greatest wrestlers in the world. I've also known from Day One that each time I step into the ring, it could be my last. That's something that every wrestler understands. Greenfever and I, we're just taking that principle to unprecedented heights of insanity. It's a huge gamble of course because this isn't one of those matches where you can lose and then you have a chance to regroup for the following week's show. No, sir. If you lose this match... it's all over. You'll never take another breath. Why would I accept such a stipulation? Because I know that I cannot lose. Greenfever cannot defeat me and I will kill him tonight.

Hank: Those are strong words, Phil. I'm not sure if you're brave or crazy, but I have to respect a man who's willing to stand toe-to-toe with Greenfever and lay it all on the line. Some people though, they've said that you're a cocky, young punk who has no idea what awaits him tonight.

Phil: Just to be clear, Hank, I'm both brave and crazy... crazy like a fox. As for "some people", those people are fools. Do not, DO NOT confuse my confidence with arrogance, ego or cockiness. I am well aware of the threat that Greenfever poses. I've wrestled the man before. I fully comprehend that he will do everything in his power to sever my brain stem from my cerebral cortex and eviscerate the vital organs that are contained within my torso. That's why I've been busting my ass training at Crimson House Dojo in Hartford for twelve hours a day, every day, with Bolts Quackenbush and a litany of training partners. Each of those training partners brought a different fighting style to the table, and each man is a preeminent name in his field. I took my licks during training but it was worth every ounce of blood and sweat. I'm a better man and a better fighter for having gone through those rigors. I trained for every attack that Greenfever can possibly throw at me tonight, plus I added several new moves to my arsenal that I will debut tonight. These moves have been designed to both thwart and bedazzle my opponent, while also putting on a world-class show for the WCF Universe.

Hank: I'm sure that we're all looking forward to seeing those moves! Now speaking of changes, I've heard that you're making a change to your ring crew for tonight. You're flying solo for the first time in your WCF career, no Bobby, Gina and Emily at ringside for your Flatliner match against Greenfever. What prompted you to make that change and will it be permanent?

Phil: You are correct, Hank. I have instructed Bobby, Gina and Emily to wait backstage during my match against Greenfever. This is a deadly game that Greenfever and I are playing tonight and I don't want my girlfriend and two of my closest friends in the world getting caught up in it. This is an issue between Greenfever and Phillip Baines. There's no reason for anyone else to become involved, even from a peripheral standpoint. Just to clarify, my decision applies to tonight's match only. Bobby, Gina and Emily will be at my side for my next match, whoever that might come against.

Hank: That's good to know. Now, you're a man who loves to talk, loves to hype his matches. Greenfever is no stranger to pre-match hype himself. He pulled out all of the stops this week during his promos to drive home his point that you are a dead man tonight in the Flatliner match. Did you watch those promos and if so what did you think of them?

Phil lets out an easygoing chuckle as he adjusts the championship belt on his left shoulder.

Phil: Well, what can I say? Greenfever must have blown a small fortune on his little, short-form horror movies. That's cool. I thought they were funny, to be honest. That's not my style. I deliver meat and potatoes wrestling promos with no frills. What it seems is what you get with me.

Hank: You issued a couple of rather, um, abstract promos yourself this morning, Phil.

Phil raises an eyebrow at Hank.

Phil: Did I, Hank?

Hank raises his hand to calm Phil.

Hank: Hey, I'm not knocking you or anything, just making an observation.

Phil: No, I'm serious. Did I do that? I have no recollection of what happened after I polished off that pint of Lady Bligh and the forty of Steel Reserve during my promo this morning.

Hank: Well after that you aired two more promos of your own and they were... pretty out there, man. One even had a Greenfever lookalike slicing your guts out with a hunting knife!

Hank shudders.

Phil: Sometimes a man has to fight fire with fire, Hankford. I am not afraid to walk with Greenfever in Hell. I am not afraid of anything that I will face in OR out of the ring tonight. Greenfever might be an innovator and even a pioneer in the world of all things malicious and sadistic, but it's like I said in my previous promos, Hank: I am better at this game than Greenfever. I am the Russian Chess Grandmaster to Greenfever's crazy-ass, old kook who plays chess with pigeons at a park in Brooklyn. Greenfever is a noisemaker and an intimidator, but when you get past the bells and whistles, the smoke and mirrors, you see that he's a mortal man like any other. In fact he's a mortal man with a girlish build, which makes him wholly inadequate to withstand the challenge of a six-foot five-inch two-hundred thirty-two pound remorseless killing machine!

Hank: Well, there's only more question for me to ask you, Phil. What will you do if you win tonight? What will be next on the agenda for Phillip Baines?

Phil takes a deep breath and ponders for a moment as he strokes his smooth, clean-shaven chin with his hand.

Phil: When I win tonight I will bounce my erect penis off of Greenfever's dead-ass face.

Hank cocks his head to the side and flashes a quizzical look at Phil.

Hank: Wha..?

Phil: I'm serious, Hank. This is pay-per-view, right? Flatliner match? I can do whatever the hell I want and I want to do penis push-ups on Greenfever's face like the Navy SEALs did to Osama Bin Laden after they killed him. After I've satisfied that primal urge I'm going to climb to the top rope and survey the havoc that I've wreaked in and around the ring while pounding my chest like King Kong and unleashing a triumphant roar. Then... then? I will take my girlfriend back to our five-star hotel suite and fuck her in ways that no girlfriend has ever been fucked before!

Phil winks at the camera.

Hank: And with that... we're done. Thank you once again for joining me, Phil, and good luck tonight! I'd like to see that, by the way.

Phil: Anytime, Hank. Thanks for having me.

Phil clicks his tongue and then goes about his business, striding confidently out of the frame. Hank signals for the cameraman to cut.