A New You

Brian Kendrick was not currently on the road with the rest of the EBWF roster. His contract was nearing it's end and he had yet to resign with the company. But since Warfare was scheduled to take place in his hometown of California, he decided to crash at his good friend Paul London's hotel. The two had recently hit up a sushi restaurant and brought back some left overs to the hotel. Because they were stoners and stoners needed to eat. A lot. London slumped back in a reclining chair and picked at a few California Roll's on his plate while Kendrick could be found laying upside on a couch, giving a blank look to his cell phone. Their was an active call with Stephanie McMahon but as of yet she had told him what he wanted to hear in regards to his demands. After a slow blink, he licked the remains of a Spider Roll from his fingers. Stephanie, after a solid minute of silence, realized that Brian was no longer speaking back to her and stopped the call on her end.

| Paul London | How goes the negotiations?

| Brian Kendrick | They don't want to pay me Shawn Michaels money. Even though I'm better than he ever was. Or give me a guaranteed World Title run. So I don't feel like resigning. And this is really good sushi.

| Paul London | It is, isn't it?

It was difficult to keep a coherent train of thought after inhaling so many joints that you could barely remember what day it was. A sudden realization suddenly struck London.

| Paul London | But if you don't re-sign they will probably just release me. I think they just keep me around because of you. 

| Brian Kendrick | Nah. They'll do something with you.

| Paul London | Yeah. Like give me the IC title for like three weeks. Gotta keep Ken strong even if he can't draw to save his life.

| Brian Kendrick | Who are you wrestling this week?

Paul rubbed the corners of his eyes. He had forgotten that important detail in the last few minutes of pot induced haze.

| Paul London | Uh..Jimmy Jacobs.

| Brian Kendrick | Who is THAT?

| Paul London | Short guy. Eyeliner. Weird haircut. He was in ROH. Kind of like a new era Raven.

| Brian Kendrick | Did I ever wrestle him back then?

Paul lifted his head from his sushi and shot Brian a slightly annoyed look.

| Paul London | I don't remember the last half an hour. You expect me to remember that?

| Brian Kendrick | Must not be that great if I don't remember him. But my memory is kinda hazy..

| Paul London | He's OK. He's a good wrestler. I think? He's neat looking. They didn't give him the PTG from DiBiase so I don't know what I'm supposed to do with him.

| Brian Kendrick | What does he look like again?

| Paul London | Jimmy? I dunno he's got..hair? And he's like kinda short. Sort of short. And he's always wearing..like..t-shirts.

Paul snickered to himself. He was far too high for his conversation.

| Brian Kendrick | So he's kind of short?

| Paul London | Kind of.

| Brian Kendrick | With...hair.

| Paul London | Yeah.

| Brian Kendrick | And he wears t-shirts. Sometimes.

| Paul London | Mm.

From his stellar description of Jimmy Jacobs' features, Brian came to one quick conclusion.

| Brian Kendrick | Paul, I think you smoked too much pot today.

| Paul London | I don't have anything else to do! You aren't around so I blaze up non-stop. Punk's all pissed off all the time and nobody wants anything to do with me unless they think I can give them weed.

| Brian Kendrick | Man, Vince isn't going to let me smoke if I go there. And I really might blow my head off if I have to job to Brodus Clay. I could probably do all the drugs I wanted in TNA and be a complete wreck but I won't make anything and their writing team are fucking morons. Schedule would be pretty easy, though..

| Paul London | You could work with Eric Bischoff's son.

| Brian Kendrick | That's EXACTLY what I want to fuckin' do.

Kendrick scowled and sat up on the couch. He pulled his dark brown hair away from his face

| Brian Kendrick | Italian bastard. Doesn't want to pay what I'm worth. But if I go anywhere else I won't get to do what I want. But I can't do anything right now anyway. Telling Orton to backdrop me through a steel cage probably wasn't the best idea. My back keeps spasming.

| Paul London | Fuck.

Paul stood up from his chair and swept his hands through his hair with eyes that were slowly growing wider.

| Paul London | Do you not see this? I'm YOU. I'm you if you go anywhere else. Stuck wrestling guys like Jimmy Jacobs and putting over shitty wrestlers like Kennedy.

| Brian Kendrick | That's a very creative argument to get me not to leave.      

| Paul London | No. I'm FUCKING serious. This is some kind of time paradox thing. Alternate dimensions.

Kendrick's dark haired friend continued to ramble as he could become very chatty and incoherent after smoking too much. But Brian stopped paying attention after a few moments anyway. That damn contract was still on his mind. 

--------

Paul London stood backstage along with remaining Midnight Gang member Tiffany. They were both dressed to the nine's, Tiffany still retaining her cleaned up look from the previous week. One of London's arms were around her while she twirled a finger around her blond hair and used the other hand to smooth out her sparkly, blue dress. That same hand soon came to a rest on the black cardigan London was wearing. Matt Striker stood by ready to conduct this interview.

| Matt Striker | Paul London, tonight you face up and comer Jimmy Jacobs. Jacobs came within just an inch of winning the PTG Title at Aftermath. A win over you would get him back into title contention.

| Paul London | We shan't allow that to happen, shan't we?

| Tiffany | We shan't!

 London gave one of Tiffany's cheeks a small pinch and she giggled while brushing up against him.

| Matt Striker | What kind of strategy do you have for dealing with a hungry and outspoken opponent like Jimmy Jacobs

| Paul London | I'll let you in on a little secret, Matt.

| Tiffany | Shhh..

The blond placed a finger in front of her lips.

| Paul London | I'm taking a page out of the playbook of our..

His face momentarily twisted into a scowl before a pleasant smile returned.

| Paul London | ..wonderful IC Champ Mr. Anderson. In order to defeat a fierce and unrelenting opponent like Jimmy Jacobs I'm going to undergo a complete transformation. The man is vicious and he believes himself to be a martyr of sorts. With that kind of mindset, he is a threat to anyone.

| Matt Striker | Ah. So the loss of a title has forced you to shift up your focus?

| Tiffany | Hell no you stupid dumb ass!

Tiffany placed her hands over her mouth and smiled sheepishly.

| Tiffany | Oops. That is to say, you are incorrect you clever gent.

| Paul London | No, unlike Anderson, I'm not going to have a midlife crisis. My transformation is simply to amuse..well..myself. I'll demonstrate. Won't be but a moment!

Taking Tiffany's hand, London whisked her way into a bathroom. Matt Striker looked on in confusion until the two returned sometime later. London was wearing a pair of teal trunks and black wrestling boots. His hair was covered by a bald-cap that had blond hair protruding from it. He smacked some gum he had in his mouth in a loud obnoxious manner. Tiffany had undergone a transformation as well. She was dressed in a skintight gold body suit with black and gold colored face paint covering her features.

| Paul London | So where is this Jacobs kid, huh? I'm gonna smack him around for all my little assholes out there.

| Tiffany | Oooo. I love to smack assholes. I'm so turned on.

Tiffany took a deep breath and rubbed her chest to mimic Goldust's mannerisms.

| Paul London | Settle down, TiffDust. This is Mr. London's time. MISSSSSTTEEEEEEERRRRRR...

He hacked, gagged and coughed before sputtering out the name.

| Paul London | ...London.

| Matt Striker | What in the--

| Paul London | Out of the way, asshole! I'm looking for Jacobs!

Striker was roughly shoved as London went swaggering out of the locker room. He walked in an overly confident and ridiculous manner. Something like Steve Austin's stride if he had been stricken with some horrible bone disease.

| Paul London | Has anyone seen that Adam Lambert impersonator, Jacobs? Huh? This Cheese Head is ready to throw down. GO PACKERS!

London smacked some food from the catering table.

| Paul London | TiffDust, do you know what I'm thinking?

| Tiffany | I am. But I'm not sure all of that will fit inside of me.

She chomped her teeth in front of her face.

| Paul London | No, no, NO. Mr. London needs to find Mr. Jacobs! And I'll do it MY way! The Asshole way! OUTTA THE WAY, PEONS!

Continuing his march, London stepped through the curtain leading to the arena. "Turn Up The Trouble" played and the audience cheered until realizing who it was. London quickly instructed for the music to cease while Tiffany stood beside him, striking a few awkward poses.

| Paul London | That is, without question, the worst theme song in the history of wrestling! It is not suitable for MISSSSTEEERRRRRR LONDON!

The crowd was not amused by London's impersonation.

| Paul London | I understand your apprehension. Totally get it! But this is the new me! I'm a romping, stomping, LOUD-MOUTH, who's going to violently send Jimmy Jacobs and his gobs of guy-liner packing! That little Robert Smith look-a-like won't know what hit him! Can I hear you out there, assholes?!

He heard them. And their sizable amount of boo's and jeers.

| Paul London | Don't be so angry! Look! I even have my lovable and wacky sidekick: TiffDust! TiffDust! Tell them what is on your mind!

Tiffany leaned over to the microphone in London's hand.

| Tiffany | What's on my mind can't be broadcast. But it involves that microphone. And lube.

Mr. London placed his hand over his mouth in a mock display of shock.

| Paul London | TiffDust! You always say such provocative and kinky things! You're so OUTRAGEOUS! Don't you know that the new MIISSSSTEEERRR LONDONNNN is all about serious business?

| Tiffany | I'm so bad. Maybe I should get a spanking.

Tiffany spun around and gave her behind a light swat.

| Paul London | No, no, no. They only thing getting smacked is going to be Jimmy Jacobs teeth. Jimmy! I hope you're ready for this new improved version of myself! If my tired, beaten down, broken old schtick doesn't get you then my mediocre and DULL wrestling will! I've got to beat you, Jim-Bob. You see, because that other guy who calls himself Mr, is ignoring my request for a rematch! The man is a coward! The man has no spine! In fact, I've seen more spine in jellyfish! He knows his win over me was a fluke! Therefore, if I knock your lights out, you slimy, absurd looking little freak, he'll have to give me my match!

London suddenly pulled off the cap and allowed his dark hair to spill out. He didn't look as though he were joking anymore. His eyes had grown darker and his face turned deathly serious.

| Paul London | Or, maybe, after I leave you laying in a pool of your own vomit, James, he'll simply forfeit and hand over my title. Because a name change and a new outlook doesn't change the fact that he is still a loser. Always has been. Always will be. And if I have to carve you up, James, and showcase your twisted wreck of a body to prove how serious I am..then so be it. Nothing personal, Jimmy. You're simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. I am going to absolutely eradicate you like the insignificant insect that you are. And I will cherish every last moment of it.

The deranged look in London's eyes scanned down to his palms where he began to envision them covered by Jacobs' blood as well of chunks of his scalp. He licked his lips before suddenly displaying a bright smile.

| Paul London | ..But I'm sure it's going to be a match to remember! Good night to you all! Best of luck, James!

After waving goodbye to the crowd, he escorted Tiffany back through the curtain and disappeared. It was as if his menacing outburst at the end of his promo had never occurred, judging from his once again humorous demeanor.