December 31, 2019
Columbus, OH

When your birthday is New Year's Day, you KNOW it's gonna be a fuckin' party! An extremely intoxicated Ross Hanson stumbles around a large, fully packed room of not-so-wasted people. 

"5!"

Ross falls towards a couch, bouncing backwards.

"4!"

Ross stumbles past one of the many full pane glass windows, with a city skyline on the other side.

"3!"

Steadying himself, the man known to FWF as Kentucky Tarzan believes himself to be on his feet.

"2!" 

Ross realizes what is about to happen, with many members of his family surrounding him. 

"1!" 

For one brief second, Ross and his aunt lock eyes. 

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!"

Ross falls backwards, straight into one of the glass panes. It gives way under his 221 pounds and breaks, shattering into countless pieces. Ross falls back, with everyone seemingly unaware of his fall (save his aunt, whose eyes are still locked with him as he does the Hans Greuber.) 

"SHITFUCK!"

January 1, 2020
Columbus, OH

A flying wad of clothing hits a sleeping Ross Hanson in the face. He quickly jolts up, his wild blonde hair all over the place. 

"What the shit!?"

"Happy birthday, nephew. Get dressed. Uncle's taking you out for steak and some new weed carts for your vape pen."

"The fuck happened last night?"

Christina chuckles on the way out the door.

"That's not good."

January 19, 2020
Delaware, OH

"So, I had this dream. I was fucked up, like REALLY fucked up. I fell out a window and died. But nobody say it...nobody cared. It wouldn't bother me, but I've had this dream like two or three times the last month. Different shit, but the same ending. One night, I dreamed it was me that Manny threw off the scaffold and killed in 4CW. Another, I got shot going to church. This is weird, and I don't know what it means."

Ross pauses, staring straight into his plate of two eggs with bacon. His hashbrowns are smothered with cheese. 

"I've heard that our family has like, special powers or something. That's how Dad wrestled for fifteen years on the verge of death the whole time. It's how Grandpa ran through everyone back in the day. I think it has to do with Uncle Nathan and Aunt Christina being so successful, too. Like, she walked in off the street eight months ago with me, and she's only lost twice. She's won three belts, probably gonna win more in Action. And Uncle Nathan? Until Larry beat him, I thought he was unbeatable. And then there's me..." He looks up, with an odd gleam of uncertainty.

He is also picking at some of the eggs and potatoes, eating a small nibble here and there. "Do I have that gift too? Is that why I'm cut like a diamond? I got more abs than NCIS, and my diet consists strictly of malt liquor and gas station pizza? I swung off the top of the building in Beaumont from a fuckin' vine...I mean, I've lost more the last year than the rest of my family combined...except for my mom, maybe, but she's distanced herself from the family. And now she's been on a roll in Action Wrestling, so even she wound up being successful by the end of the year. And then there's me."

Ross starts on a piece of bacon. "Fuck, maybe I really am batshit crazy."

Across the table, the unidentified invidiual whose appearance is not revealed to the viewer nods. 

"So I was wondering...you got any advice? Anything I could or should do? Something I'm fucking up here? I mean, you got the best advice in the business and look at you now! And you know deep down, you wouldn't mind being able to say I owed you one. So what do you say? Let's scratch each others' backs here..."

January 20, 2020
Video posted to TheFWF.com

"WHAT'S UP FUCKERS? IT'S YA BOY KENTUCKY TARZAN HERE!"

We appear inside the FWF studio, where Mr. Tarzan stands in his hide loincloth and vine sandals. Beside him is a laptop on a pedestal.

"Today, we're gonna read some fan mail! First off...we've got something from Meagan G. out of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania!"

Kentucky Tarzan does some clicking on the laptop, and the question appears on screen in a split with the studio shot.

"Meagan G. asks, 'Kentucky Tarzan...how big is it?' Well, Meagan, it's about seven point four to the negative eighteenth power parsecs." 

Tarzan deadpans this without a wink or a flinch. He also flips over to the next question.

"This one's from Shawn out of Atlanta, Georgia. 'Hey Tarzan, what do you think about your opponent at Pandemonium VI?' Great question, Shawn! I think that Youngstown is a bunch of wannabe gangsters pissed off their dads lost their jobs in the whole Rust Belt thing and they couldn't even keep an amusement park open! In OHIO! THE FUCKING VALHALLA OF ROLLER COASTERS AND FOUR DOLLAR BOTTLED WATER! AND CHRIS RICHARDS IS SUPPOSED TO SCARE ME WITH HIS LITTLE FUR COAT THAT LOOKS LIKE HE SKINNED A DALMATION BEHIND A GOODWILL? MACKLEMORE WANTS THE PROPS FROM THE THRIFT SHOP VIDEO BACK, FUCK KNOCKER!" Hope that answers your question, Shawn!"

Kentucky Tarzan clears his throat, regaining his composure. "Okay....now we've got Vinny from Kenosha! Vinny wants to know, 'Ay yo! Tarzan! My man! When you gonna make a run for the FWF Championship title?' Well, Vinny, I gotta be honest with ya. Champions gotta wear clothes when they go on TV, and they're expected to be nice and say 'yes sir, yes ma'am, sorry I took off my loincloth and masturbated live on The Rachel Maddow Show.' I don't think FWF management will ever want to put me anywhere near even having a chance at a shot at a title in this company, and if I'm wrong I'll take off my loincloth and masturbate live on The Rachel Maddow Show."

He continues to stare into the camera, pausing in freeze frame for a few seconds. In the background, clattering is heard as security is seen in the glass behind him, about to enter the studio. "Also, I'm gonna take Little Chris Richard's ass out when we come to Vegas Wednesday night. Maybe I'll bury him in the end zone at the new Raiders' stadium so they'll be cursed in this city too! Just win, baby!"

The door is busted open. "GET HIM THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! WE WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF EDITING A PROMO PACKAGE AND HE JUST BARGED IN HERE!"

Security converges on Tarzan, beginning to pull him away. "Kentucky Tarzan here saying thanks for watching! See you Wednesday at FWF Pandemonium VI! Dicks out!" 

Before the scene ends, we see Tarzan dragging the laptop (and all its connected cables) off the pedestal, knocking it over. 

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