(FADE-IN: A boardroom in heart of a hotel building in Minneapolis, Minnesota. We're not talking rinky-dink, fit-three-people-if-you're-lucky. This room makes Donald Trump’s “Apprentice” board room look like a tiny, quivering b*tch by comparison. Seated around the table are a few very young, entry-level reporters. Several of them look bored as all get-out just sitting around waiting for this meeting to start. The meeting was supposed to have started at one-fifteen sharp, but creeping up around two, there was no activity. In fact, a couple of the reporters look ready to leave when…)
“WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA… WHOA.”
(Call it the nick of time. Call it some BS ploy in order to build suspense. Call it the latter cause that’s exactly what it was. But in any event, the crowd came to life after a loud “BANG!” echoed into the streets. The forms of Frank Pierce, Mack Brody, and Ryan Gallway poured out in tremendous fashion. In fact, somehow, someway, they were walking in slow motion.
Frank Pierce looked every bit the badass with a black Armani dress shirt, D&G sunglasses, and $500 sneakers. Mack Brody looked even more badass in a black leather vest with diamond studded earring, O ROKR Pro sunglasses, a perfectly neat golden fauxhawk with a leather vest and black jeans. Ryan Gallway kept a steady gait; silver silk scarf blowing in the wind [read: fan blowing next to them] with a yellow shirt, blue jeans and for some f*cking reason, a bowler cap he probably borrowed from Muse during their “Chamber of the Muse” appearance. And if you need some music, “Die, Motherf*cker, Die” by The Geto Boys blasted from… someplace.)
REPORTER: How the hell are they doing that?
REPORTER #2: WHAT the hell are they doing?
(Indeed enough, they were STILL walking in slow motion to the podium, despite everything else around them moving at normal speed. Each man took a spot near the podium with Frank Pierce taking the first position. The music cuts as Frank, complete with 1.3 Trillion Yen Championship over his shoulder, adjusts the mic.)
FRANK PIERCE: All right, b*tches. I’d like to thank all of you for coming. For sponsorship, I’d like to thank the following: Twix, Wendy's, Sharpie, Rolex, Hilton Hotels, Dasani, Lexus, Binaca, D&G Right Guard, Cap'n Crunch, Pepto Bismol, Chick-Fil-A, Bazooka Joe, Lysol, Caesar's Palace, Compaq, Arby's, Sony, the National Basketball Association, Nintendo, Casio, and most importantly, Charmin. Because when your opponent runs his mouth constantly and all that comes out is crap, what else cleans it up better than Charmin? Uh, NOBODY.
(Ryan and Mack nod along with him as several camera bulbs flash.)
FRANK PIERCE: Now, earlier this week, we made an announcement that the Heirs of Wrestling were going to be utilizing our Freebird Rules clause and would be having one of us wrestle as a sponsor for each round of the tournament we compete in. Much speculation has been making the rounds. The questions have been asked. People have been wondering exactly WHAT action we are going to take against Anarky come Aggression 53. But before we drop The Decision™ on you, Ryan Gallway was nice enough to count the minutes while doing recon on our opponent a we prepared for this spectacular occasion. Mr. Gallway, you have the floor.
(Approaching the extra tall podium, he steps on a stool [read: phone books] and clears his throat before he begins.)
RYAN GALLWAY: 6:00PM. F*ck, I thought I was taping “Hot In Cleveland.” Oh, well. 6:01PM. Okay, so far, all he’s established is that people dismiss him. 6:03PM. Turned this sh*t off to play the new EPW Aggression game, now on sale at your local video game depositories. 6:25PM. I unlocked Lindsay Troy and played as her 25 straight times, winning all of them in record time with taking no damage. Nobody stood a chance. 6:36PM. Turns out that video game Anarky is much better than the real thing. I actually scored some achievements with him. I didn’t even make him deliver labored interviews that are so wooden, I could throw them on the fire to stay warm. 7:04PM. Remembered I was supposed to be doing recon. 7:05PM. Went back to the Anarky promo again to study up on him. He started flailing about; delivering dialogue that I think was really meant for The First. 7:12PM. Realized that he does for the side of good what Amy Winehouse does for sobriety. That is all.
FRANK PIERCE: Thank you. Now, The Decision, Tee Emm, has been weighing heavily on the hearts and minds of all those who are keeping up with this match… HOW are we going to beat Anarky? Are we going to pin him? Are we going to make him submit? Are we going to live to fight another day and escape the cage? These questions must be weighed carefully when taking this match into account.
(Off-camera, Mack Brody reaches down to a console panel built into the table and begins fiddling with a few buttons. A large screen begins to retract down from the ceiling and a projector rises up from underneath the table. Frank removes the lens cap and turns the device on, then walks to the back of the room to hit the lights.)
FRANK PIERCE: Thanks, Mack. Now, we’ve drawn out all three scenarios to see how all these will play out and measure them accordingly.
(FIRST SLIDE: A crude crayon drawing of what appears to be a stick figure with a painted skull on it face-down on the mat while a very bold, almost comic book-esque rendition of Mack Brody stands proudly, pinning him down with a boot on his chest.)
FRANK PIERCE: Pinfall. Anarky has thus far, talked a big game about how he’s going to flail our skin off and such. He’s made wild and unsubstantiated claims that we’re cowards and that he will torture us, but when we last competed against him… mind you, our official debut about three Aggressions ago, he and Layne Winters were OUR b*tches. Point: Heirs. Pinfall is a simple and efficient method, the majority of all matches nowadays are won in this manner.
(SECOND SLIDE: Another crude picture of a stick figure in skull facepaint locked in some newfangled torturous submission being twisted into pretzels. The assailant? Another comic book illustration of Ryan Gallway.)
RYAN GALLWAY: Submission. By trade, Anarky doesn’t even know the word “submission.” This is not a complement on his resolve, but really, his wrestling style matches kick-kick-punch-punch-stompy-stompy. His chair shot-addled brain cannot retain new information past a certain date, hence his Nintendo 64-ian Create-A-Wrestler name and appearance. We’d have no trouble beating him in this game.
(THIRD SLIDE: Cage escape. Frank Pierce climbing outside the cage. Guess how he’s animated. And in the ring appears to be a face-painted stick figure with tears running down his cheek, reaching out futilely as Frank is on the way to victory.
FRANK PIERCE: And we can’t forget. Cage Escape. Out of these three, this is the only real thing that Anarky is good at. He talked a big game about how he wanted to hurt us and before that, how he would be proud to injure Karl Brown and make him regret his words. And yeah, he won… BY RUNNING AWAY. Ooooh, scary. And as a man whose body has NOT been ravaged by tacks, wires, and other stupid crap that would ruin this badass physique, I could clearly outrun run... IF we were to run from the fight, that is.
(FINAL SLIDE: A professional mock-up of all three Heirs holding the EPW World Heavyweight Championship as well as their own horrid vanity belts in place of the EPW Tag Team Titles.)
FRANK PIERCE: So no matter how you slice it, Anarky is merely a turd in the punch bowl that is our greatness and will be removed swiftly, thus keeping our precious EPW Titles in place. In fact, we were planning on making a public demonstration right now by burning an Anarky t-shirt, but we then realized he isn’t popular enough to even HAVE merchandise, so we’ll open the floor for questions.
(All reporters raise their hands. Frank Pierce picks a portly fellow in the front row.)
FRANK PIERCE: You, sir.
REPORTER #3: Okay, so… this is all well and good, but have you decided which of you is actually going to FACE Anarky?
(All three Heirs exchange glances before turning their attention back to Mack Brody.)
MACK BRODY: We have. And we’ve decided that… well, you all need to shut the f*ck up. Get out! GET. THE. F*CK. OUT. I’ve got plenty of reporter jackets that we’ll burn on this floor right now! SCRAM!
(The reporters each file out of the room, stunned, leaving the Heirs to their own devices.)
RYAN GALLWAY: Wait… shouldn’t have this gone meeting and THEN open letter? Probably would’ve made more sense.
FRANK PIERCE: No, we're working backwards. Like Momento, b*tches.
(FADE.)