I'm the New You.
“Come on,” he whined, “give me a
challenge, Eli.”
The sound of grunting and mat-slamming can be heard.
“Oh, I don’t think so!” the familiar voice commanded. “Stopped in your tracks!”
A bell rang forth, followed by the canned sound of a crowd jeering.
“YES! YES! YES! YES!”
The camera finally shook to life as “Simply Sensational” Sean Edmunds stood in his boxers, holding his Xbox 360 controller in the air. The camera zoomed past him onto the television where the Sean Edmunds CAW stands similarly with his arms raised. A defeated avatar of Eli Flair rolled to the outside of the ring and brushed his hands in the air with disappointment.
“Preparation?” The camera spun around and focused on Miss Karla. She leaned against the pillar, a cup of coffee, or tea, resting comfortably in her hands. She picked up the NFW-branded game and scanned the front cover, which featured an image of the hellacious NFW Western Conference Finals match between Nova and the aforementioned Flair. Bored, she tossed it on the couch next to Edmunds. “With a game from 2007?”
“Well, I mean, Flair hasn’t wrestled professionally since this game was released, so I figured what better way to scout out his repertoire.” Edmunds gloated happily at the screen. “See? The Elite Eight just got more Sensational!”
Karla rolled her eyes. “How about you shower and head to the gym today? The match is coming up soon.”
Edmunds stared vacantly at Karla.
“You know,” she paused, “that place with weights… and a ring.. and, most importantly, a sparring partner?”
Edmunds turned and stared at the television, his CAW still celebrating in the ring. “But I have Codine next!”
Edmunds turned back to Karla and pointed helplessly at the television. Karla slowly shook her head in disapproval.
“Ugh, fine.” Edmunds caved. “I didn’t finish the Codine CAW correctly anyway. He still wrestles too much like Beau Michaels..”
|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|
“He’s strawmanning again, is he?” Edmunds punched at the red ball. “Still going on about numbers and what constitutes an ‘official expert?’” He punched at it again.
“You know Eli, he gets so wrapped up in one small detail he forgets why we’re on the subject in the first place.” Karla dabbed Edmunds’ chest with a towel.
“He thinks he can change the subject,” Edmunds shrugged, “Let him try. He’s just wasting energy on something that I don’t need to drag out in front of the television cameras for THIRTY-F
UCKING MINUTES,” Edmunds broke the fourth-wall and stared directly into the camera. Finally he went back to punching the bag, “Fact of the matter is, he tried to say that no one expected him to be in the Sweet Sixteen. I called him out. Now he’s butt-hurt and trying to divert attention from the fact that Eli Flair is
exactly where everyone thought he’d be right now.”
“Yea, but Eli Flair has always been a one-trick pony.” She tossed the towel to the side and began to help Edmunds take off the gloves. “Sparring partner just got here. Should be out in a few.”
“I’ll do a quick 5-minute cardio then.”
Edmunds began walking to the bikes. He grabbed an ice-cold bottled water from one of the many fridges in the gym and sat on the closest bike he could find.
“Eli, save all your clarifications, your back-tracking, and your self-serving doublespeak for the interviews you’ll have to give after I’ve dumped your ass out of the Ultratitle Tournament.” He hit a few buttons and began peddling. “Because I couldn’t care less. In your world, as you’ve said, there’s an Eli Flair standard and a standard for the rest of us. You operate on deceit, on twisted words and confused looks. It should be interesting, then, to watch your world implode when I pin your shoulders to the mat… to watch as you curl up and realize that the Ultratitle will
never be yours.” He smirks. “I know, I know, Eli. You
want the Ultratitle, but you don’t need it.”
Edmunds began to peddle at a steady pace, and sat straight up, causing the monitor to beep at him.
“Nobody believes that for a second, Eli.”
“What about those 41 smarks?” Karla walked into the shot.
He tossed her a sly look. “Nobody, Karla. Because the fact of the matter remains, Eli Flair has an empty spot in his trophy room just waiting .. just
WAITING to be filled by the Ultratitle. Nobody is
that obsessed unless they really, really
really need the object they’re obsessing over.”
“A few more minutes on the bike.”
Edmunds nodded and bent back down to grab the sensors.
“For all those years that you toiled away as a second-tier talent, you would think that you would have more appreciation for what I’m trying to do. Here I am trying to finally get the recognition I deserve after continually being told that my match versus Chump A would be my swan song in the Ultratitle Tournament … or my match versus Chump B would be my last.. or my match versus Chump Eli would be my last… surely someone like yourself would admire my drive and determination.” He wiped his forehead. “I know, Eli, you ended your career while you were at the
top of your game …”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Now would you consider the end of your career to be the loss against Nova in the Western Conference Finals, the loss against Dan Ryan at Wrestlebowl Night 2 .. or is there another
embarrassing loss somewhere that I wasn’t able to find that you consider ‘going out at the
peak’ of your career?”
He shook his head as if to say ‘whatever.’
“Whatever.” He grabbed the bottled water and refreshed himself. “The fact of the matter is that while you’ve been re-writing your own personal history in the
years that you’ve been away from the ring, I’ve been out there day in and day out. Instead of bettering my
stories, Eli, I’m bettering my
self. You should try it sometime …”
The bike beeped repeatedly signaling the end of his cardio. After dismounting the bike, he began walking to the ring in the distance.
“So you can make the coy comments about where I’m currently wrestling. You can try to sweep the fact that you’re stepping into the ring with a man who is demolishing the competition in two separate tournaments and beating World Heavyweight champions
right here in 2012, under the rug.. but you can’t run from
that fact. You can live in 1995. You can look back fondly to 2007 .. you can tell the world ten-times over that you walked away as the greatest wrestler in
your lifetime… but this isn’t
your time anymore. You’re a popular choice with the critics. You’re a popular choice with the smarks. Even five years out the game, the experts chose you to go far in this thing .. wisely, there was only one idiot who thought you’d take the entire tournament .. but there’s no accounting for poor taste.”
A wink.
“Some might say that you’re the
novelty pick.. People look back
seventeen years ago and they remember what you were like when the world was at your feet .. they look back to five years ago and remember the machine you say you once were… but Sean Edmunds, I
am that machine
right now. I
am the better, newer, and
improved Eli Flair.”
He laughed.
“You seem to want to try to push me into this box, Eli. You want me to dwell on the fact that I’ve been told
over and over that I am weak .. not talented enough to move forward… that every match is my last here … but you’re so blinded by the world that you’ve created for yourself, that you ignore reality.” He flexed. “I don’t care that Vegas says you’re going to win by a comfortable margin. I don’t care that all the
chatter says that you have the easiest road to the bracket finals of any competitor. If I listened to that, I would have been gone in the first round. If I were to believe the idiots running around talking … I wouldn’t have saved this tournament from the idiocy of Cancer Jiles. I wouldn’t have saved this tournament from the blandness of the Phantom Republican.. and I wouldn’t be saving this tournament from your one-trick-pony show.”
Edmunds reached the ring and hoisted himself onto the apron.
“Face it, Eli.” He stepped through the ropes. “This is 2012… and you’re 200-late.”
Edmunds turned to face his sparring partner. He threw some punches in the air before dropping his jaw. Standing across from him … at a mean 5-foot-4, 160 pounds .. is an elderly man.
“KARLA!” he yelled.
Laughter could be heard echoing off the gym’s walls … somewhere Karla was having a grand old time.
|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|
The camera focused in on Sean Edmunds as he stood in front of his television. He glanced around to see if Karla was anywhere in sight, and being satisfied that she wasn’t, turned on the Xbox360.
“I can fit in one more Eli-bashing before I go to bed,” he convinced himself.
The screen lit up and Edmunds began setting up the one-on-one bout between E-Flair and E-Edmunds.
“Again?!”
Edmunds tensed up and gripped his controller.
“Sean…”
He turned around and was met with Karla’s confused look.
“Really? I thought we went over this.” She walked over to Edmunds, but he slowly moved the controller to behind his back. “Give it to me,” she demanded.
“C’mon, what harm is ONE more game going to do?”
He pressed the start button behind his back .. all of a sudden the Edmunds CAW came waltzing down the walkway… a sexed up blonde walking behind him.
“IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE ME?!” Karla wailed.
“Oh, ha! Yeaaaaaa.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. One mor..”
Eli Flair’s “video package” interrupted her and she stared at it in disbelief.
“Oh my,” she stood there dumbfounded.
“It’s a relic of the times, Karla!” Edmunds rested his forearms on her shoulder to get in a better position.
Karla walked over to the Xbox and turned it off.
“But!” He began to protest.
Karla held up a finger.
“No, Sean. Just no. Leave that game where it belongs; in the past.” She signed. “I’m going to bed. Make sure you’re up early tomorrow… I want to get to the arena as soon as possible tomorrow so that I can start redecorating Troy Windham’s old locker room to my liking.”
Karla walked out of the room, her head shaking the entire way. Edmunds watched her go and then looked down at the controller.
“I mean, I know that when he walks in the entrance video, Flair looks like an ape with a dildo up its ass.. but she didn’t have to turn it off.”
Edmunds was met with only silence. He shrugged.
“I guess I really should leave things in the past that belong in the past.” He looked into the camera, “maybe, Eli, you should, too.”
|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|
The lights in this small, damp hallway lurched back and forth on the ceiling. The faux-spotlight ran down one wall, across the dusty floor, and up the opposite wall. In the background voices peppered the air.
“THIS!? FLAIR DID THIS! HE HAD TO HAVE!”
The screeching voice of a harpy raged on.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! SWEET SIXTEEN AND THIS! WE GET THIS!”
All of a sudden, a beam of light emerged from a dark corner. The creaking sound of what must be hundred year wood followed almost immediately after. Miss Karla, in full regalia, swatted at the air in front of her.
“SPIDERWEBS! FROM 1695! I AM GOING TO KILL HIM!” She cautiously stepped forward into the hallway.
“Simply Sensational” Sean Edmunds gave her a little bump from behind and smiled. He shut the door behind them.
“It’s okay, Karla.” He attempted to soothe her. “After tonight, Eli won’t be around to try to play mind games.”
“OKAY?! HOW IS THIS OKAY! I PRACTICALLY GOT A SPRAY-TAN FROM THE SHOWER!”
“Oh, c’mon, Karla, the water wasn’t THAT rusty.” He chuckled.. and then sideswiped a balled fist headed in his direction. “Come here.” He reached for her hands and pulled her close. “I need you focused out there, babe.”
She huffed as the two moved underneath the swinging spotlight. “I should have known he would try to pull something like this,” she fumed, the steam pouring from her ears.
Wait. No. That’s steam from a pipe behind her. Hard to tell at first since the light keeps moving.
“You’re just mad that you didn’t think of it first,” he remarked coyly.
She glared at him, but then shrugged. “Well, that thought MAY have crossed my mind.”
Edmunds smirked. “Eli Flair knows that he’s going to have to pull out all the stops to beat me tonight.” His eyes darted down to Karla’s loaded purse. “And I’ve come prepared to make sure that won’t happen.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“Now let’s go out there and show the world once again that Sean Edmunds … is the BRACKET BREAKER.”
The two locked eyes and gazed longingly .. until the light above the head began to flicker. They looked up .. just in time for the sole light in the hallway to burn out, leaving them in complete darkness.
“As soon as we figure out how to get out of this hallway,” Edmunds quipped.
“ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!”
Karla’s frustration ends the scene … and the camera cuts … what? It’s already black!