Warrick Hill

Smoke begins to fill the entranceway.  A drumstick taps against a cymbal.  It’s a countdown!  That all too familiar intro into “Tom Sawyer” hits!  A simultaneous sky blue light runs from the ceiling down onto the ramp as Warrick Hill emerges through the smoke.  His hair appears dirty – 2-3 days unwashed.  He’s rocking a pair of cheap shades.  A cigarette hangs from his mouth, probably a menthol.  He’s sporting a shirt belonging to some local liquor store, a ‘complimentary’ item with over $30 bucks of booze purchased.  The man casually strolls down the ramp, locates the nearest steps, ascends them, and eases his way into the ring.  He leans into his corner, relaxed posture, ready for whatever the fuck is about to happen.