Posted by Chance Runnels on September 3, 2004, 4:27 pm

We’re hot off the heels of the last CAL pay per view that the IWA is likely to take part in and now it’s time for every body’s hero Chance Runnels to crack on with his IWA singles career. What silly strange adventure will Chance, John and Amy embark on this time? We’re in the home of the IWA, Miami. It’s an early Monday morning, the sun is shinning and the birds are chirping. As the temperature begins to slowly rise people are woken from sleep due to the discomfort of heat, sweat and light. Unfortunately for John “the head case” Jones and Amy Edwards, the star of the show Chance Runnels is a heavier sleeper than most. [As the scene fades in we find ourselves in a spacious expensive apartment. The walls are white, a few plants decorate the place along with some neatly organised furniture, the kitchen is equally as tidy and organised, except for an empty pizza box and a sports bad thrown on the kitchen table. As you (well the cameraman) move through the flat you hear muffled voices coming from behind a black varnished wooden door directly in front of you. You step through the door and as you do you seem to step into a completely different house. Where as the rest of the flat was clean and tidy, the bedroom is a complete contrast, well excluding the en-suit bathroom. The colours of the room are a lot warmer and the furniture mismatched dirty clothes, training equipment, magazines and other garbage cover the floor. In the middle of the room is a large double bed with a figure of a well build man sleeping on his stomach totally lifeless buried amongst a mess of screwed up bed sheets. This would be the same situation day in day out for an early morning Chance Runnels. That is if it weren’t for chance’s manager and girlfriend both jumping up and down on the bed while Chance slept!] John: Did that do the trick? [Amy and John stop jumping on the bed and drop to their hands and knees to inspect Chance’s condition.] Amy: He didn’t even stir! John: For the love of all that is sacred in this world what does it take to wake Chance up? [As John screams his curse up at the ceiling exaggerating his expression with huge arm movements, Amy on the other hand looks exhausted.] Amy: Look we’ve tried shaking him, slapping, shouting, pinching, slapping harder, punching, shinning light in his eyes, all manner of unusual bodily noises and now jumping on the bed. What else can we do? John: shall we slap him harder still? Amy: That’s not going to get us anywhere. John: No, but It helps relieve the frustration. Amy: I don’t care, we need a plan. John: How about we get some jam and Amy: Not your crazy wasp idea again? John: It’s not crazy! Amy: Do you think that even if spreading Jam all over Chance’s back and releasing some tormented angry bees in the room actual woke him up, that he won’t kick your ass? John: Point taken, we need a new plan. Amy: What about waxing? John: What about it? Amy: We could pour hot wax filling his ass crack like Niagara falls then rip his ass hairs out? John: Needlessly brutal, I like it. Amy: Do you have any wax? John: Do I have any wax? Do I look like the kind of person who waxes? Amy: Actually you kind of do. [John opens his mouth to retaliate before he shrugs.] John: Oh anyway you’re a woman carrying round cosmetics and all that other bollocks is your whole life style! Amy: That’s a bit narrow minded and sexist isn’t. John: Not as much as this. Why can’t women drive? Amy: Why not? John: Because there aren’t any roads between the kitchen and the bedroom. [John starts to laugh, Chance murmurs some incoherent bullshit in his deep sleep that’s barely noticeable. Amy obviously infuriated takes off her shoes and hits John around the head.] Amy: Ass. I got a better one than that anyway. John: Hey! That’s hurt. Amy: Why can’t women park cars? John: I don’t know why can’t women park cars? [Amy holds out her hand with a scorn on her face and wiggles her little finger (aka the pinky.] Amy: Because men keep telling them that THIS (meaning the size of her little finger) is eight inches! [Amy smiles smugly and folds her arms as John takes a moment to work it out. When he finally does he blushes and pushes his two four fingers together sheepishly, obviously bested.] John: Anyway enough of this, how are we going to wake this prat up? Amy: Hey we haven’t tried tickling him! John: Your right. [John climbs off the bed and pulls a feather out of the pillow. John walks round to the end of the bed then starts to gently stroke Chance’s feet with the feather, John has his mouth open in concentration. Amy tires to tickle Chance’s back with her fingernails, she also tried his neck, sides, shoulders, and arms heck she even tries blowing gently on his neck and ears. Nothing works!] John: This isn’t going to work; we’ll have to let him wake up naturally. Amy: Are you kidding? He’s got a match in a week’s time. In between then he has to go into space, train and besides when he goes to sleep it’s like hibernation. Except he doesn’t eat straw and mud to plug up his ass hole. John: Wait a second space? Amy: Yeah! What didn’t he tell you? John: Tell me what? Amy: Well apparently he’s collected some coupons of toilet roll multi-packs and now he has enough to go on a promotional three-day trip into space, to the moon and home again testing the new faster space shuttle! [What? It could happen you collect coupons to get into theme parks at half price, why not space?] John: No he failed to mention that, some friend he is. [John kicks Chance’s bed; Chance wriggles round a little to get more comfortable.] Amy: It’s like waking the dead! John: I think your right there. Amy: Right, time to bring out the big guns [Amy starts rooting through a chest under the window in the bedroom. She seems to be looking for something in particular throwing other items out of the way.] John: What are you looking for? Amy: Wait just a few seconds will you. [Amy roots for a few more seconds before grabbing something from deep within the chest and stands up.] Amy: Here we are. John: What is it? Amy: This is an electric muscle toner machine thingy. John: Chance has one of those? Amy: Well no, it’s mine. John: Oh right, hang on Chance doesn’t have any of my stuff in his house. Well except my DVD special edition copy of “The Care Bears”. [Amy looks at John and then Chance questionably, but decides it’s better not to ask and continues with plugging in the muscle toner.] John: what are you planning to do? Amy: You just watch. [Amy places the conductive pads all over Chance including all of his limbs. John looks on in amusement as Amy switches the machine on and slowly turns the voltage to its maximum setting.] John: This should be good. [As the electric dosage hits, Chance’s muscles are forced to contract and relax. Chance’s whole body convulses for short five second bursts. His arms and legs lashing out as he wriggles like a fish on the bed. Amy gets knocked off her bed and lands on the floor, John gets kicked in the softer parts of the male body then punched in the face while bent over.] John: TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF! Amy: I can’t get close enough! John: Shit! [Amy and John try to get past Chance’s convulsing form to turn off the toning device. John waits for an opening then dives on the machine crushing it with his mass.] Amy: Well done. John: For what? Amy: Smashing it to turn it off, brilliant. John: Thanks, but really I just tripped on this tie on the floor. Amy: Ah. [Chance’s body relaxes once more and falls to the bed smoking lightly form the exceeded recommended electric dose.] John: When he wakes up, if he asked why he’s burning up and his pubes are standing on edge then we say he stuck his fork in the toaster again. Amy: Agreed. [Amy sits down on the bed next to Chance, her legs crossed. She brushes some hair out of Chances face and smiles.] Amy: He is the cutest unconscious man I’ve ever seen. John: Unconscious? Amy: Well you can hardly call the state he’s in sleeping! John: True. Hey how about throwing water at him? Amy: Yeah that will work for sure! [John runs into the bathroom and comes out with a bowl full of water. The origins of the bowl are unknown and more to the point we don’t really care either. John careful picks his way through the nuclear bombsite of a bedroom floor to the end of the bed.] John: Here we go