In the beginning we were taught to laugh at Jesters

Voiceover: When a child is born, they either smile, laugh as in giggling, or they cry.

What did you do?

How do you know?

Was it recorded, or were you told?

What happened if you made no sound for ages except breathing?

People would freak, panicand and mode but now as a fully grown man, when you stay silent do they panic?

They wonder what he is thinking? Plotting? Does he even think or just do?

How can we tell? Ask his parents? Did anyone ever see any parents?

I bet by now you are wondering who I am and who I am talking about, but all will be revealed.

Well, I never will.

But I am talking about none other than a man sent from far away to do combat in the Tokyo Dome, Wolfie aka Ricky King!!!!

Who I hear you say with bewildered expressions, well let me talk to you about Wolfie and where that name comes from.

Hold onto your hats, it is going to be hell of a bumpy fun ride.

We will work backwards, I think.

In Japan, Tokyo Dome, Wolfie takes it all in as first time ever he will wrestle here.

He isn't quite sure how he got here but it involved a plane and being dropped thousands of feet, then a remotely operated parachute opened and as he groggily lay on the ground, to be bundled into back of a truck, to be awakened by none other than a henchman belonging to Rupert Mudcock,

And only to be told, that if he beat Enterpainer, would he get some answers, but lose and he remains in Tokyo confused and lost.

So here he stands waiting to fight for answers but to what questions?

Who? What? Why? Where? The magical W questions and toss in the magic H question too How?

Wolfie remembers he was away from the bright London lights and in the mountain, wilderness spending some peaceful time alone, not even his family with him, His DC family as we all should know Wolfie has no family. Owen basically took him in as a youngster, trained him, made him the man he became.

Would they be looking for him now or will they even notice he's gone?

When the fight leaks imagine their reactions to Wolfie in Japan.

Pleased but gutted not with him.

But this time maybe that's for the best.

Take another time, jump back to the mountains.

High in the rugged mountains, where the air is crisp and the trees stand tall, lived a seasoned lumberjack named Mr. King, s nobody ever knew his first name. He was a man of formidable strength and unyielding determination, known far and wide for his ability to tackle the toughest of tasks in the unforgiving wilderness. His life revolved around the rhythmic swing of his trusty axe, the scent of freshly cut wood, and the challenges presented by the untamed nature that surrounded him.

One chilly morning, as the first rays of sunlight spilled over the mountaintops, he set out on his daily routine. The towering pines loomed over him as he ventured deeper into the heart of the forest, the ground beneath his boots softened by a carpet of fallen leaves. The mountain air was thick with the aroma of pine needles, and the distant sound of a babbling brook echoed through the trees.

As the man worked tirelessly, the rhythmic thud of his axe against the mighty trees resonated through the silent woods. His sinewy muscles flexed with each swing, and beads of sweat dripped from his furrowed brow. The forest seemed to respond to his efforts, the air filled with the crackling symphony of branches and trunks succumbing to the relentless blows of his axe.

During his labour, a sudden rustling in the underbrush caught his attention. The atmosphere shifted as a massive brown bear emerged from the shadows, its fur glistening with dew. Mr. King’s eyes widened, and he instinctively gripped his axe tighter. The bear, however, seemed uninterested in a confrontation, lumbering past with a mighty yawn.

Relieved, the man chuckled to himself, thinking that the forest was full of surprises. Little did he know that the encounter with the bear was just the beginning of a day that would test his mettle in ways he could never have imagined.

After a grueling morning of felling trees, he decided to take a break. He found a comfortable spot near the brook, where the gentle gurgling of water provided a soothing soundtrack. Pulling out his lunch from a worn-out leather satchel, he enjoyed the simple pleasures of bread, cheese, and a flask of strong black coffee. The forest canopy above cast dappled shadows, creating a tranquil oasis amidst the relentless toil.

As the man savored his midday reprieve, the rustling of leaves caught his attention once again. This time, however, it wasn't a bear but a lone wolf that emerged from the thicket. The creature looked at him with intelligent eyes, a silent observer of the lumberjack's solitary lunch. With a quiet nod, Mr. King acknowledged the wild beauty of the moment before the wolf vanished back into the woods.

Invigorated by his short respite, he resumed his work in the afternoon sun. The forest seemed to close in around him, the ancient trees whispering tales of centuries past. As the day wore on, the air became thick with anticipation, as if nature itself was holding its breath in anticipation of something extraordinary.

And extraordinary it was, for soon he found himself face to face with the bear from earlier, only this time, there was no indifference in its gaze. A low growl emanated from the massive creature as it stood on its hind legs, a formidable adversary with claws bared and teeth gleaming.

In that heart-stopping moment, Mr. King knew he had two choices – to flee or to stand his ground. But he was not one to back down from a challenge, not even when faced with a bear twice his size. Gripping his axe with unwavering resolve, he met the bear's gaze head-on.

The battle that ensued was a dance of strength and survival, a primal struggle between man and beast. He swung his axe with precision, aiming for the vulnerable spots between the bear's thick fur and hardened hide. The bear, however, countered with powerful swipes and lunges, its sheer force sending tremors through the forest floor.

The clash between man and bear echoed through the mountains, a spectacle witnessed by the towering trees and the murmuring brook. He fought with the tenacity of a wildcat, his muscles burning with exertion. The bear, wounded but not defeated, roared with a ferocity that reverberated through the valley.

As the battle raged on, the forest became a battleground, the ground littered with pine needles and leaves torn from their branches. The two adversaries were locked in a primal struggle, each refusing to yield to the other. It was a test of strength, a confrontation between the indomitable spirit of man and the raw power of nature.

After what felt like an eternity, The Wolf from before emerged from the bush and attacked the bear, exhausted and wounded, retreated into the shadows of the forest, leaving Mr. King and the wolf staring at each other standing amidst the fallen leaves and broken branches. Heaving breaths, He wiped sweat from his brow and surveyed the aftermath of the fierce encounter. The forest, once silent, now seemed to exhale a collective sigh as life resumed its course. The Wolf howled and then wandered away.

As the sun dipped below the mountain peaks, casting a warm golden glow across the landscape, Mr. King realized the profound connection between man and nature. He was not just a lumberjack conquering the wilderness; he was a part of it, entwined in a delicate dance with the untamed beauty that surrounded him. This is why he took Wolfiethe name partly.

With a sense of accomplishment, he shouldered his axe and made his way back to the clearing where he had enjoyed his lunch. The battle scars on his body told a story of resilience and triumph. The fallen trees around him were a testament to his labor, and the distant calls of wildlife served as a reminder that the mountains were alive with both danger and wonder.

As he disappeared into the twilight, the mountains stood as silent witnesses to the ebb and flow of life, where man and nature coexisted in a delicate balance. The lumberjack, having faced the challenges of the wild, carried with him the scars of a battle well-fought, a testament to the indomitable spirit that thrived in the heart of the mountains.

Back to present, Wolfie is merely thinking about that Bear and calling it Enterpainer, he wants answers and he's going to grab them.

The scene fades out