"It's a paradox, A mystery, A riddle
A door in your face and only I have the key
Do understand, you'll be caught in the middle
Caught in a web and being spun by me" -Jeff Hardy

Shawn Michaels drew circles on his young apprentice's back, trying to soothe him, make him relax. "Hey, boy. It's alright. Nothing bad will happen. You'll get used to it, look at me!" The heartbreak kid smiled softly at him, touching his hair.

"I'm not you, Mr. Michaels...! You were born for that era! I couldn't possibly do the things you used to..." He sobbed long into his hands, his quivering voice a little muffled by them. "Please, please... In the name of God... Don't ask me to do this..."

The mention of God ring a bell inside Shawn's head, making him quickly regret what he had promised Vince... But he was a man of his word. And just like in 1997, he was about to come through with his word.

"Aldo. Look. This is not going to be so bad. Think about this chance you're getting. Everyone would like to be on your spot right now! But..." The Texan was interrupted by the shouts of the Memphis native, who turned to look at him with puffy blue eyes.

"Then so be it! Give my spot to someone else! I don't want this...! Everyone will compare me with..." Shawn raised his hand to quiet the now loud voice of his young apprentice.

"But. Nobody could do this like you can. Because... Morrison has his own plans, probably going back to his Nitro gimmick and he's the one they compare, not you."

"Not yet." He sighed, placing his hand over his own chest. "Look... I... I've thought this well..." He wiped the tears off his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I will be loyal to the company. If the Boss needs this from me, he'll get it. If you will give me advice, I will take them all. I promised I would and i will."

Shawn just smiled, kissing the boy's forehead, pulling him for a tight embrace. "Alright, that's my boy! Now, we're gonna give them a show like they have never, ever seen before..." Shawn said, looking into the eyes of the young wrestler.

"Why?" He asked with a soft, playful smile.

"Because we can!" Both shouted, getting up from the bench they were in, walking over for their bags to get their clothes.


"Dad... He's gonna throw a fit." Shane McMahon stood inside his father's office, watching through the lock at the man waiting outside, hugging a red haired gothic woman and flirting with the receptionist at the same time.

"I know. But what better than a real feud to spice things up?" Vince kept writing things on papers, looking up from time to time. "What? Shane, you're getting your head much into this. Relax. Remember how it was back then. Better storylines, sometimes even improvised."

"Back then you said. Not now. Not with him. Why didn't you do this with Hennigan, with someone else! He's new to this, he never watched wrestling on TV before, he is TERRIBLE with the cameras! Come on, dad, he can barely memorize his room number, let alone an entire script."

Vince turned to look at his soon, raising a brow, "Well. Good thing you like him enough to call him dumb, son."

"He's not dumb... He's just... Clumsy." Shane blushed slightly, peeking again to check on the man outside the door.

Tall, dark, black hair, heavily tattooed arms and a lined beard with a sort of tribal design. And glasses. Inside a room. Sunglasses inside a building equals jerk. Shane knew this was going to be terrible, everything on this story pointed towards a tragedy.

Family feuds were always good ratings though.


Aldo was scheduled to have his first on-screen talk that night. The first time to hold a microphone. He knew the camera loved him, his yearbook pictures always went good after all; but he never had to memorize lines.

He had a bad experience with a school play: He went out there, looking all pretty in his costume, rosy cheeks and cute makeup. And then... He forgot his lines. Everybody told him that 'all actors have a bit of stage fright on their first play' Oh, yeah? Well, not all actors forget their lines when they're playing a sheep and all you have to say is 'Baaah baaah'.

But anyways. Here he was, at the Gorilla, just waiting for his temporary music to hit. He went out to the ring, took his mic and started speaking the lines he could remember. Good thing Shane told him to improvise if he couldn't remember something. The only instruction was: "STAY IN CHARACTER".

"I've been hearing a few things from other wrestlers out here. Like DH Smith. You know what? I don't have to prove myself worthy to you or to anyone for that matter. If my contract here with not even two days on NXT doesn't do enough to show you just how good i am, then nothing will. So stop the 'rookie' nickname, and... Calling me 'kid'? Come on, Hart. You're just too old, that doesn't mean i'm a kid."

The crowd started laughing all of a sudden, and there were some odd noises, like... -oooouuuhhh- or something like that. Probably they were provoking Smith to come down to the ring.

"And out here, in front of this wonderful crowd here in Saint Louis, Missouri... I challenge ANYONE in the roster to climb up this ring and prove what kind of a 'child' am I!" The audience were crazy, yelling different wrestlers to come down, but really, nobody knew what was coming now... Not even the man in the center of the ring knew who was coming up to take his challenge.

Names like Cena, Orton, Punk, Hart, Kidd and Miz were thrown to the soup of wrestlers the WWE Universe was making. And then it came...

"See the broken man torn and twisted in grief..."

The audience went silent. Nobody knew who's music that was.

"Screaming to the sky in pain and disbelief..."

Oh but he knew. Aldo knew all too well who's music that was.

"How could it be that any man could allow this?..."

His wounds even started burning with the sole sound of the music in the air...

"Living in the filth of faded innocence..."

Everything was frozen... The crowd was no longer there and he was not at the arena anymore... There was no ring, no microphone, no cameras... He was alone in his Memphis room, he was 11 again and he was scared shitless because He had found him hidden inside his own closet... And he was about to drag him by the hair and smash his head against the mirror once more... The same song playing in the background and the same smirk in the face of the man walking closer and closer to him...

Nameless, Faceless... By Fozzy.