AGGRESSION 53: KOTC Rd. 2 - High Flyer vs. Fusenshoff
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
- Start date
- Joined
- Jan 6, 2005
- Messages
- 1,076
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 40
- Location
- Los Angeles, CA, formerly PA
- Website
- www.genlmnop.com
(BLACK VIDEO MATTE : SFX : BEEPING. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.)
(FADE IN: A near empty hospital corridor. A lone nurse is sorting medication on a push cart. Her inappropriate heels click over the tiles as she takes a few small steps.)
(BEEP. BEEP. BEEEEEEEEP.)
(This nurse drops her pills onto the cart and rushes to the nearest room. Following behind her, the camera notices a manila folder containing patient information of one Jack Harmen.)
Better known to the wrestling world as High Flyer.)
**
**
(CUTTO: Hospital bed. High Flyer is seated upright, eyes wide awake. He's wearing a hospital gown and frowns to a man sharing the hospital room with him.)
HIGH FLYER: Glad I'm not that guy.
(Going wide, Tony Davis and Mary-Lynn Mayweather st around Flyer's hospital bed. In the back of the room, another patient is in a vegetative state, as doctors and nurses flood the room. Mayweather is wearing her red skirt suit. Tony is wearing an oversized shirt he no doubt got from the Salvation Army. It reads "I'm with Stupid" and is currently pointed to a doctor.)
HIGH FLYER: I hope my next roommate is a talker.
DOCTOR(OS): CLEAR!
(A large buzz sound is heard as the doctor zaps the patient. The heart beat restarts. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. TONY DAVIS rolls his chair into frame, looking up at the doctor.)
TONY DAVIS: God was like, I want him, and you were like, NAH-UH He stays here! Fist bump!
(Davis raises his fist. The doctor doesn't respond.)
TONY DAVIS: Conventional high five?
(No response.)
TONY DAVIS: Winking nod of approval with thumbs up!
(Davis winks, nods, and raises his right hand, thumb skyward. He spins back to Flyer's side.)
DOCTOR: You know, you two shouldn't be here. This is intensive care. And you?
(The doctor walks over to Flyer's side.)
DOCTOR: You've been well enough to get out of the ICU for the past two days. You should be home re-cooperating. You can do you’re physical therapy somewhere other than here.
HIGH FLYER: But doc. I'm not a hundred percent. I'm paying for a hundred percent care. If I buy an x-box, if it has 98% of it's functions but doesn't have it's power button I'm gonna return the sucker.
(The doctor frowns, looking toward Mayweather.)
DOCTOR: You're the sensible one. Use some logic on him.
MLM: You obviously don't know Jack.
HIGH FLYER: Logic is as ineffective on me as BP against an oil spill.
(Flyer yells after the doctor as he exits the room.)
HIGH FLYER: Or a lightsaber against Superman!
(Mayweather leans in and pats Flyer on his forehead.)
MLM: You gotta get back in the game Fly. You've got Fuse next and I remember him taking you out in TEAM.
HIGH FLYER: Well, how was I supposed to know the guy had a hidden s in his name... I mean, you know I only retain 20% of what I read cause I’ve watched so much TV. (Frown) How do you even say his name? (slowly) Fu-sens-hoff? Fu-sen-shoff? (quickens pace)I don't like 50/50 multiple choice. And I don't like listening to commentary from no talent hacks. I do the commentary myself.
MLM: So, the man who champions preparedness lost to a man because he couldn't PRONOUNCE his name because he doesn’t listen to commentary tracks? How convoluted is that?!
HIGH FLYER: Hey. I had to learn that lesson somewhere. Wasn't Aesop's Fables.
MLM: No, because Aesop didn’t have recorded media in his time line.
TONY DAVIS: Wait. Wait. Wait.
(Davis grabs the side of Flyer’s hospital bed to brace himself.)
TONY DAVIS: You’re saying there’s a time when there was no such thing as music?
(Tony gasps at MLM’s nod. His eyes go wide.)
TONY DAVIS: That means I can use your time machine that’s in hammerspace and go back in time to invent the rap music with my Two Tone Tony gimmick! Oh man, what should the inventor of hip hop music wear? Probably something by Nelly. Or Hilary Duff if she makes man’s clothes.
HIGH FLYER: Time machine’s no more. It went rogue and tried to destroy time and space. I had to send it into a paradox. Because it created paradoxes. I mean, I just couldn’t keep track anymore and it was easier to send it to space time’s version of boarding school.
(Flyer leans in to Tony.)
HIGH FLYER: (whispering) I lied. Ginger here hates the thing.
(Mayweather crosses her arms over her chest.)
MLM: If you’re not gonna take this seriously, I don’t know why I’m even bothering. I should be focusing on my own career. Not worrying if you’re gonna get yourself killed by a mad man like Stalker or a true professional like FUSENSHOFF inside of a steel cage.
HIGH FLYER: C’mon. I had a near death adventure. Cut me some slack.
MLM: Is that why you shaved your head?
(Indeed, if you haven’t noticed, High Flyer’s trademark long locks had been erased by clippers.)
HIGH FLYER: The two are mutually exclusive.
MLM: Cause I think it’s cause you almost died.
HIGH FLYER: Listen. Can’t a guy get a haircut in a hospital bed without the third degree? And can’t a guy just get some rest in a hospital bed?!
(Mayweather stands to her feet.)
MLM: Yeah, but you’re not just some guy Jack. You’re High Flyer. You’re the greatest cruiser weight this sport has ever seen. Or at least that’s what you tattooed on your ****ing arm. Grow some balls and show you earned that ego boosting honor. Because if you don’t, I’m going to fork stab you, and believe me, you do not want to be forkstabbed by a fiery irish red head. Besides the fact it’s a cliché, you’d get it in the EYE!
(Mayweather promptly storms off. After a beat…)
HIGH FLYER: Charming. No wonder she doesn’t have a boy friend.
TONY DAVIS: She’s right though. You gotta stay serious. I’m basically outta this business at 36. I’ve retired twice. So have you. You don’t have a lot of time left.
(Flyer doesn’t say a word. After a long pause, Tony continues.)
TONY DAVIS: Could be your last chance.
(Another long pause. Tony shifts awkwardly in his seat.)
TONY DAVIS: Unlike the Phillies. Chalk this year up as a mulligan, eh? Can’t even beat the Pirates.
(Another lengthy pause. Tony frowns.)
TONY DAVIS: You want me to leave, don’t you?
HIGH FLYER: Please.
TONY DAVIS: Leaving.
(Tony gets up and exits the room quickly. Flyer watches him exit and sighs. He reaches over to his nightstand and pulls out a wallet. He takes out a picture, one taken ten years ago when he and his tag partner Tony Davis were young, impressionable, and IWO Tag team champions. His eyes tear up, a single drop rolls down his cheek as he puts the sentimental reminder away.)
HIGH FLYER: I should’ve done better…
(CRANE SHOT. FADE OUT.)
(FADE IN: A near empty hospital corridor. A lone nurse is sorting medication on a push cart. Her inappropriate heels click over the tiles as she takes a few small steps.)
(BEEP. BEEP. BEEEEEEEEP.)
(This nurse drops her pills onto the cart and rushes to the nearest room. Following behind her, the camera notices a manila folder containing patient information of one Jack Harmen.)
Better known to the wrestling world as High Flyer.)
**
**
(CUTTO: Hospital bed. High Flyer is seated upright, eyes wide awake. He's wearing a hospital gown and frowns to a man sharing the hospital room with him.)
HIGH FLYER: Glad I'm not that guy.
(Going wide, Tony Davis and Mary-Lynn Mayweather st around Flyer's hospital bed. In the back of the room, another patient is in a vegetative state, as doctors and nurses flood the room. Mayweather is wearing her red skirt suit. Tony is wearing an oversized shirt he no doubt got from the Salvation Army. It reads "I'm with Stupid" and is currently pointed to a doctor.)
HIGH FLYER: I hope my next roommate is a talker.
DOCTOR(OS): CLEAR!
(A large buzz sound is heard as the doctor zaps the patient. The heart beat restarts. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. TONY DAVIS rolls his chair into frame, looking up at the doctor.)
TONY DAVIS: God was like, I want him, and you were like, NAH-UH He stays here! Fist bump!
(Davis raises his fist. The doctor doesn't respond.)
TONY DAVIS: Conventional high five?
(No response.)
TONY DAVIS: Winking nod of approval with thumbs up!
(Davis winks, nods, and raises his right hand, thumb skyward. He spins back to Flyer's side.)
DOCTOR: You know, you two shouldn't be here. This is intensive care. And you?
(The doctor walks over to Flyer's side.)
DOCTOR: You've been well enough to get out of the ICU for the past two days. You should be home re-cooperating. You can do you’re physical therapy somewhere other than here.
HIGH FLYER: But doc. I'm not a hundred percent. I'm paying for a hundred percent care. If I buy an x-box, if it has 98% of it's functions but doesn't have it's power button I'm gonna return the sucker.
(The doctor frowns, looking toward Mayweather.)
DOCTOR: You're the sensible one. Use some logic on him.
MLM: You obviously don't know Jack.
HIGH FLYER: Logic is as ineffective on me as BP against an oil spill.
(Flyer yells after the doctor as he exits the room.)
HIGH FLYER: Or a lightsaber against Superman!
(Mayweather leans in and pats Flyer on his forehead.)
MLM: You gotta get back in the game Fly. You've got Fuse next and I remember him taking you out in TEAM.
HIGH FLYER: Well, how was I supposed to know the guy had a hidden s in his name... I mean, you know I only retain 20% of what I read cause I’ve watched so much TV. (Frown) How do you even say his name? (slowly) Fu-sens-hoff? Fu-sen-shoff? (quickens pace)I don't like 50/50 multiple choice. And I don't like listening to commentary from no talent hacks. I do the commentary myself.
MLM: So, the man who champions preparedness lost to a man because he couldn't PRONOUNCE his name because he doesn’t listen to commentary tracks? How convoluted is that?!
HIGH FLYER: Hey. I had to learn that lesson somewhere. Wasn't Aesop's Fables.
MLM: No, because Aesop didn’t have recorded media in his time line.
TONY DAVIS: Wait. Wait. Wait.
(Davis grabs the side of Flyer’s hospital bed to brace himself.)
TONY DAVIS: You’re saying there’s a time when there was no such thing as music?
(Tony gasps at MLM’s nod. His eyes go wide.)
TONY DAVIS: That means I can use your time machine that’s in hammerspace and go back in time to invent the rap music with my Two Tone Tony gimmick! Oh man, what should the inventor of hip hop music wear? Probably something by Nelly. Or Hilary Duff if she makes man’s clothes.
HIGH FLYER: Time machine’s no more. It went rogue and tried to destroy time and space. I had to send it into a paradox. Because it created paradoxes. I mean, I just couldn’t keep track anymore and it was easier to send it to space time’s version of boarding school.
(Flyer leans in to Tony.)
HIGH FLYER: (whispering) I lied. Ginger here hates the thing.
(Mayweather crosses her arms over her chest.)
MLM: If you’re not gonna take this seriously, I don’t know why I’m even bothering. I should be focusing on my own career. Not worrying if you’re gonna get yourself killed by a mad man like Stalker or a true professional like FUSENSHOFF inside of a steel cage.
HIGH FLYER: C’mon. I had a near death adventure. Cut me some slack.
MLM: Is that why you shaved your head?
(Indeed, if you haven’t noticed, High Flyer’s trademark long locks had been erased by clippers.)
HIGH FLYER: The two are mutually exclusive.
MLM: Cause I think it’s cause you almost died.
HIGH FLYER: Listen. Can’t a guy get a haircut in a hospital bed without the third degree? And can’t a guy just get some rest in a hospital bed?!
(Mayweather stands to her feet.)
MLM: Yeah, but you’re not just some guy Jack. You’re High Flyer. You’re the greatest cruiser weight this sport has ever seen. Or at least that’s what you tattooed on your ****ing arm. Grow some balls and show you earned that ego boosting honor. Because if you don’t, I’m going to fork stab you, and believe me, you do not want to be forkstabbed by a fiery irish red head. Besides the fact it’s a cliché, you’d get it in the EYE!
(Mayweather promptly storms off. After a beat…)
HIGH FLYER: Charming. No wonder she doesn’t have a boy friend.
TONY DAVIS: She’s right though. You gotta stay serious. I’m basically outta this business at 36. I’ve retired twice. So have you. You don’t have a lot of time left.
(Flyer doesn’t say a word. After a long pause, Tony continues.)
TONY DAVIS: Could be your last chance.
(Another long pause. Tony shifts awkwardly in his seat.)
TONY DAVIS: Unlike the Phillies. Chalk this year up as a mulligan, eh? Can’t even beat the Pirates.
(Another lengthy pause. Tony frowns.)
TONY DAVIS: You want me to leave, don’t you?
HIGH FLYER: Please.
TONY DAVIS: Leaving.
(Tony gets up and exits the room quickly. Flyer watches him exit and sighs. He reaches over to his nightstand and pulls out a wallet. He takes out a picture, one taken ten years ago when he and his tag partner Tony Davis were young, impressionable, and IWO Tag team champions. His eyes tear up, a single drop rolls down his cheek as he puts the sentimental reminder away.)
HIGH FLYER: I should’ve done better…
(CRANE SHOT. FADE OUT.)
Fusenshoff
League Member
Fade in to Fusenshoff sitting out in front of the Mall of America. With a show in Minneapolis this week Fusenshoff thought he might check the place out. After all, he actually has money now to spend on useless material possessions. A few years ago the only function this mall would’ve had for him is plenty of dark corners around its perimeter to snuggle up with an empty bottle and catch a good night’s sleep.
Fusenshoff: “I’ve been asking myself lately, ‘What does it mean to be a king?’
“Me, being who I am, simply won’t settle for anything but the very best example of such a responsibility. Since our current World Champion thinks being a king means blowing lines off strippers’ asses, dressing up like its Halloween for GQ and pissing on a preteen with anal beads in his ass because nothing else excites him sexually anymore…
“I’ll pass on his example.
“Kings of past monarchies don’t even hold a match to the true rulers. How can one pursue the example of a man born into a position they’ve never earned? While some kings may have been noble—truly noble as in their character, not the status definition widely used in monarchies—it doesn’t change the fact that what we recognize these people for is their class status instead of what truly defines them. It was given to them as a birthright, never a form of recognition from achievement of any kind.
“The kings of the jungle, from Africa to Asia and even what one can only call criminal captivity at places like the San Diego Zoo…
“The lion is the one true king. The rest are just strutting on the stage of symbolism.
“Lions are only prey to humans and other lions. Yet a human without his tools doesn’t earn a pauper’s glance before getting ripped apart by such a dominant creature. They massacre cheetahs, hyenas and buffalo like a butcher in a slaughterhouse.
“The man who wins this tournament will be called a king. It would be a benefit to all those entertained by this sport if that man sought insight from the true kings of the jungle. The character of a lion is a virtuous paradigm. A lion is the prey of none and a prevailing force of nature unparalleled without significant engineering. Their pack is their own until they’re mauled by a lion superior to them.
“Sometimes lions walk as nomads, without a pack. Personally this type of lion tugs at all the right heartstrings inside yours truly.
“Often the defeated lion who once ruled his pack is critically injured and never in the condition of being able to succeed in returning to his throne. Perhaps you’ve had a similar enlightenment when confronting the frailty of your knee High Flyer. Let alone the fact that you took a gruesome spill the likes of which we haven’t seen in a long time here in EPW. I’d argue not since Rocko Daymon and Stalker took their plunge has it been so ghastly.
“But hey, it sounds like you’re better. Pretty impressive, frankly… it took Daymon months to recover from his injury. I guess you’ve been taking your vitamins.
“I’m glad to hear it, frankly. I remember our fight from a couple of years ago too. Your showing was about as impressive as Ashlee Simpson at a karaoke bar.
“The sad thing is that you think ‘the man who champion’s preparedness lost to a man because he couldn't PRONOUNCE his name’.
“You lost because you weren’t focused Flyer. Do you remember anything about our match? Do you remember spending the entire week trying to muster up information about the origin of my name? It was an absurd waste of time and your distractions were obvious when we met.
“You were running around all week like a half-blind, half-deaf nursing home patient, old as hell and senile, rambling while you asked ‘What’s in a name?’. I felt like I was in high school reciting Shakespeare again. Then you finished the performance by fighting like Juliet Capulet instead of the self-proclaimed greatest cruiserweight breathing.
“Let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson. You can chalk the loss up to anything you want. Just come prepared to fight this time or you’ll be making even more excuses.
“We have a responsibility to this federation to represent it as best we see fit if one of us conquers the rest of the field. That in itself takes preparation. It takes discipline and focus, just like every single match from here on out.”
“I’ve seen good things from you High Flyer. I’m just waiting to see it when you’re staring me down in the ring.”
Fade out as people pass in front of the camera. Fusenshoff pulls out his flask and walks up the steps of the Mall of America, taking in the atmosphere and size of the place.
Fusenshoff: “I’ve been asking myself lately, ‘What does it mean to be a king?’
“Me, being who I am, simply won’t settle for anything but the very best example of such a responsibility. Since our current World Champion thinks being a king means blowing lines off strippers’ asses, dressing up like its Halloween for GQ and pissing on a preteen with anal beads in his ass because nothing else excites him sexually anymore…
“I’ll pass on his example.
“Kings of past monarchies don’t even hold a match to the true rulers. How can one pursue the example of a man born into a position they’ve never earned? While some kings may have been noble—truly noble as in their character, not the status definition widely used in monarchies—it doesn’t change the fact that what we recognize these people for is their class status instead of what truly defines them. It was given to them as a birthright, never a form of recognition from achievement of any kind.
“The kings of the jungle, from Africa to Asia and even what one can only call criminal captivity at places like the San Diego Zoo…
“The lion is the one true king. The rest are just strutting on the stage of symbolism.
“Lions are only prey to humans and other lions. Yet a human without his tools doesn’t earn a pauper’s glance before getting ripped apart by such a dominant creature. They massacre cheetahs, hyenas and buffalo like a butcher in a slaughterhouse.
“The man who wins this tournament will be called a king. It would be a benefit to all those entertained by this sport if that man sought insight from the true kings of the jungle. The character of a lion is a virtuous paradigm. A lion is the prey of none and a prevailing force of nature unparalleled without significant engineering. Their pack is their own until they’re mauled by a lion superior to them.
“Sometimes lions walk as nomads, without a pack. Personally this type of lion tugs at all the right heartstrings inside yours truly.
“Often the defeated lion who once ruled his pack is critically injured and never in the condition of being able to succeed in returning to his throne. Perhaps you’ve had a similar enlightenment when confronting the frailty of your knee High Flyer. Let alone the fact that you took a gruesome spill the likes of which we haven’t seen in a long time here in EPW. I’d argue not since Rocko Daymon and Stalker took their plunge has it been so ghastly.
“But hey, it sounds like you’re better. Pretty impressive, frankly… it took Daymon months to recover from his injury. I guess you’ve been taking your vitamins.
“I’m glad to hear it, frankly. I remember our fight from a couple of years ago too. Your showing was about as impressive as Ashlee Simpson at a karaoke bar.
“The sad thing is that you think ‘the man who champion’s preparedness lost to a man because he couldn't PRONOUNCE his name’.
“You lost because you weren’t focused Flyer. Do you remember anything about our match? Do you remember spending the entire week trying to muster up information about the origin of my name? It was an absurd waste of time and your distractions were obvious when we met.
“You were running around all week like a half-blind, half-deaf nursing home patient, old as hell and senile, rambling while you asked ‘What’s in a name?’. I felt like I was in high school reciting Shakespeare again. Then you finished the performance by fighting like Juliet Capulet instead of the self-proclaimed greatest cruiserweight breathing.
“Let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson. You can chalk the loss up to anything you want. Just come prepared to fight this time or you’ll be making even more excuses.
“We have a responsibility to this federation to represent it as best we see fit if one of us conquers the rest of the field. That in itself takes preparation. It takes discipline and focus, just like every single match from here on out.”
“I’ve seen good things from you High Flyer. I’m just waiting to see it when you’re staring me down in the ring.”
Fade out as people pass in front of the camera. Fusenshoff pulls out his flask and walks up the steps of the Mall of America, taking in the atmosphere and size of the place.