B T W "Kind of basic for a logo, don't you think?" The little ringleader spoke to me as we looked up at the simple letters nailed to the Big Top Tent. He fished in his pockets for a pack of cigarettes while I scratched my chin. He wasn't wrong- it was pretty basic for a start-up company. But sometimes big things come from humble begins, and I told him that. He put a Camels in his mouth and asked me for a light. I hunched over and flicked my Bic. He inhaled and let the smoke dance in the night air. The carnival lights were out, but the footlights stayed on for us as we examined the tent. He nodded, and grinned. "It's been my lifelong dream to run a televised wrestling program. It really has, Spidey. And I appreciate you promoting this dream. I've got all kinds of people coming in wanting to make a name for themselves. A few from my old carny days. Guys like Brick Mason, a legend I'm going to honor on our first show. There's a man coming in that lived in an abandoned movie theater. Can you imagine that? And shit, we have a retired WZCW superstar ready and waiting to go. WZCW, Spidey. How'd I get so lucky?" I told him I didn't even know. It was great seeing Lars Bookman like this, though. Watching him get excited over a few letters and hitched red and white sheets made me smile myself. I had a feeling Bookman was going to make the simplest of things work. It will be interesting to keep up with his brainchild. Not often a guy can watch something special just blossom right in front of him. The ringleader took another drag as we stood there in silence. I could just imagine the first commercial spot for Big Top Wrestling: "Sometimes big things come from humble beginnings..." Soft carnival music teases the darkness. Then a flash of incandescent bulbs illuminate the ring. Lars Bookman stands in the center of it; engulfed by the sheer size. His hands in his pockets, he bows his head as if in prayer. "A friend told me that. And there's nothing more humble than this..." He takes a hand out and gestures at his location. Shots of the Big Top Tent stick to the viewer's television screens. Black & White...Sepia-toned... image after image of old stuntmen in speedos wrestling for the circus is brought into the present day, where the pictures stop on a recent pic of iconic carnival wrestler Brick Mason. "BTW will thrill you. It will give you something you are not likely to see elsewhere! We may be the few, but we are the efficient! Our curtains will open very, very soon..." A Navy Seal. A deranged cinema buff. A southern belle. Face after face start filling the ring behind him. He turns to look over his shoulder, and his eyes connect with the youngest free agent in professional wrestling. Bookman grins. "And when the lights go out and the show is over, you're going to want more. We are the alternative." Bold black letters fill the screen. The wrestlers in attendance repeat the words in unison. "WE ARE THE ALTERNATIVE!" The whimsical music hits a crescendo, and it transitions into a guitar rift. Imagery of a superstar being set on fire blankets the four words. There's a quick glimpse of unnamed luchadors clearing everyone out of the ring. Rain collapses the tent's tarp and washes over several fans as wrestlers slip and slide into each other in the midst of battle. "Sometimes big things come from humble beginnings. We hope to see you all there when we begin." A line of static interrupts, and the commercial ends as abruptly as it began. I opened my eyes and meditated on the future. Bookman is mad enough to make this work. I smiled and sauntered off to the closest bar to celebrate my friend's dream-turned-reality.