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Our Hero, James T Wright or The "It's Still Real To Me!" Guy, is, as per usual is spending his Saturday night watching re-runs of old WWF Programming, screaming at his TV when the heels lose & occasionally muttering about his unconditional hatred for The Miz. His phone goes off.
Wright: AWWWWWW! It must be Mom, She's worse then Motherf*ckin' Satan.
He looks at the small, sh*tty screen, he sighs, and answers the phone.
Wright: Yeah Mom?
His mother speaks, inaudibly, however, we know it's good news by his expression.
Wright: Are you F*ckin' Kiddin'? ... I won!?
You See, Our loveable loser, Jim here, enters the lottery every week, in hopes of winning so that he can start his own promotion.
Wright: How Much!? Fuck! Is that all? $3000? Shit.
James Hung up the phone, appearing to be deep in thought, he's not going to have Jericho or Shawn Michaels with $3000...
Wright: I wonder if Terry Funk will be interested.....
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And Thus, A Wrestling promotion was born, but not just any wrestling promotion.... This is Real. Pro. Wrestling.... Dammit!
RPW...D!
Real Pro Wrestling Dammit!
...
OOC: I just thought this might be an interesting back story, Mr ISRTM! DOES want a very traditional promotion, but for now, he'll just settle for whatever he can get...
