text: You feel a bit wild...a bit crazy. With a renewed zest for life...and danger...you make your way to Derrick Darrens' office.
  
  "So what do you two have-"
  
  "Look Darrens, you don't like me...I don't give two flying rat turds about you. But you know that I'm the man to get the WWWL some real exposure. You'll make more money with me as Champ than good ol' boy Camo could ever bring in." Determination and confidence ring powerfully through your voice.
  
  "Excuse me? Have you lost your mind? Just what has gotten into you, Steele?"
  
  "Sense. And maybe I have lost my mind a little. And I LIKE IT! I'm gonna take things to the next level. You just wait and see. From here on out...it's all up to Chance. And that's what I'll be calling myself. I'm gonna throw caution to the wind. Think you can handle that, you prissy, little, stuffed shirt?"
  
  You reach across the desk and rather soundly pat Darrens' face. Though he looks infuriated, he also seems to be intrigued by this new attitude of yours. While not certain that he can control you this way, he values profit over anything else.
  
  "Alright...'Chance.' Just watch yourself. You get too carried away and you'll be in the unemployment li-"
  
  "Yeah yeah. I'm all tore up about it. Obviously. Later."
  
  With that...you turn and make your exit. While you certainly haven't made friends with your boss...you don't particularly care. Mark looks rather dumbfounded, but follows you out of the office a moment later.
  
  "What...was THAT? Are you crazy man? You're gonna get canned if you talk to Darrens that way! Just like 'Wild Bill' did!"
  
  "Do you see any concern here?"
  
  "No! I don't! Not one ounce. I'M concerned though. I'm your friend, Will...and I've never seen you act this way. It's like you don't care whether you live or die, eat or starve, work or get fired. What's going on with you?"
  
  "Like I told you, I've just finally decided to live my life. That's all."
  
  "Just don't get Will Steele lost in this...'Chance' character. I like Will Steele. 'Chance' is kind of a jerk so far..."
  
  You scoff a bit, not quite sure why you feel so compelled to push your friend away and fly solo.
  
  "Look...just get some rest. I'm sure you could use a little downtime. You've really been pushing yourself lately. So...rest up...and I'll see you tomorrow. You're up against Strider next."
  
  "You just sit back and watch me make history, Mark."
  
  Mark frowns a bit as you walk away and eventually leave the arena. Resting up seems like the least appealing option to you at the moment. But you could always give into that suggestion...or find something a little more exciting to get into.
  
  > go Wild!
  You're sick of playing it safe! You want to take what you want from life for a change. This leads you to a rather seedy looking bar. You've never been a big drinker, but tonight...you feel like celebrating! There are a couple attractive looking girls there...and you soon find yourself doing shots, playing Texas Hold 'Em...at least you think that's what you're playing. You're not really positive at this point, but you're pretty sure that someone cheated. Though it's a bit of a haze...you find yourself swinging fists, chairs, and whatever else you can get hold of. You don't really remember ever being hit...but you vaguely remember waking up in a strange room with strangers. You also remember seeing Mark Smith and a few cops. That seems to be your most vivid memory before you woke up back in your hotel room. You don't feel so great...but you fall asleep.
  
  Upon waking up, you are filled with regret and uneasiness...even a sense of dread and impending doom. Was this the carefree wildman that had gone out earlier the night before? Hopefully you'd thrown up all that you needed to, but you certainly weren't feeling at 100%. And suddenly the realization that you're facing the WWWL's most talented superstar tonight. Luckily you still have several hours to get over this hangover...
  
  > Not Your Best Work
  You've never drank this much coffee in an entire week before. But it's helped. It seems that the nagging voice in the back of your head is getting fainter and fainter...You also haven't had the compulsion to cluck like a chicken all day. That may be a good sign.
  
  You keep pushing yourself to reclaim that mindset from yesterday, before everything become a blurred haze...but after all those peculiar, conflicting impulses. It still seems difficult to focus, but you seem to be managing. So you got a little sick? So you puked a few guts out? So you peed on a cop? Whoa WHAT?!? You just now remembered that...and Mark Smith bailing you out of jail. Wow. That guy sure sticks his neck out for you. You'll need to thank him...but after this match. Carpe diem! Seize the day!
  
  So here you find yourself...a little worn and weary, nearing the end of a match against Strider. In fact...this is a match that Strider has kept one step ahead of you rather consistently throughout. There's no question that Strider is faster than you today...and he may even have an edge on you with strength. You know that the only way you're going to be able to come on top is to really go for broke. Strider currently has you backed into the corner and he's wailing on you with several closed fists. You can't take much more of this. You can either shove Strider over your head and hopefully out to the ringside area...or wrap your arms around his midsection and power him to the mat. If you try to dump him out of the ring, it has a greater chance of being countered and backfiring...but it will definitely hurt Strider more if you land the move.
  
  > dump the Chump!
  You struggle to hoist Strider into position so that you can shove him over your head to topple outside of the ring. Strider sees this coming, as you're obviously not at your best...This move leaves you extremely vulnerable and Strider capitalizes on it beautifully, spiking his knee directly into the side of your head.
  
  As you're blasted by a "Shining Wizard", you feel the whole arena spinning...with that familiar, growling voice roaring out at you furiously. What IS that thing? Are you losing your mind? You barely have time to debate that fact consciously, as you fall to the mat.
  
  When you wake up...Strider has already left the ring and you're staring up at the lights up above in the sizable arena. It doesn't seem like your new ringstyle...or at least your new lifestyle...is working out so well this far. Putting on such a sorry display after mouthing off to the boss like you did the day before does not bode well at all.
  
  Your visit to Mr.Darrens is not at all a pleasant one. Your push is revoked. Your gimmick is going to be scrapped as if it never existed...and you're going back to where you started. Can you believe that one night of drunken stupidity is going to force you to work your way up the ladder of success all over again? Mark Smith tries to stick up for you, but he's lucky not to be fired alongside you.
  
  "I'm sorry things didn't work out man...I just don't think this 'Chance' thing was the right way for you to go."
  
  "Whatever man. I do what I want, when I want, how I want...and nobody's gonna stop that!"
  
  In a shocking turn of events...you walk away from Mark and the WWWL entirely. It seems you've learned nothing from his advice or your mistakes.