[We’re inside a cozy-looking room with white-painted walls all around, except for right in front of us. In the background, we can see an Apple MacBook Pro, the 13” variety, hooked up via some kind of black cable to a large-screen flat-panel TV, at least 35-40” in size, playing EPW footage from one of EPW’s pay-per-views, Russian Roulette 2012. The sound is of Dave Thomas making a screaming call.]
DT: Anarky has him…HE DID IT!! ANARKY WITH A CHAOS BREAKER OFF THE TOP ROPE!!! [Huge pop!] DIS IS MOTIONLESS!! ANARKY SLUMPS BACKWARDS LAYING ON TOP OF DIS…WE NEED A REF DAMMIT!!
[Before we get much further into the call, a large white-skinned hand reaches out and makes a couple of tapping motions on his laptop. The TV screen comes to life with a mouse, and the mouse cursor pauses the action right before the match’s most critical moment.]
[It’s at that moment when the camera pans out quickly and sitting in a leather office chair is the challenger for Anarky this coming show.]
[As he spins around to face his audience, we see Christian Light is dressed somewhat casually, with a gray Champion’s sweater and dark blue jeans. His feet are bare and his toenails are well-kept, much like his blonde flattop and blonde goatee. He leans back he rests his head and neck on an orthopedic pillow whose off-white exterior is in stark contrast to the black chair and the room’s white walls all at the same time.]
"The Last Nighthawk" Christian Light:
Do you remember Christmas morning, Anarky?
I didn't exactly have a ton of traditional Christmas mornings. My aunt always found it appropriate to decorate the house for a birthday party, bake a fiber-bran cake, and sometime in the evening we'd sing the Happy Birthday song to Jesus. A little weird, yes. Does it cut some of the excitement from the holiday? Yeah, sure. When you're 13, there's something a bit off about a piece of fiber-bran cake and a glass of milk when you compare it to the rest of your friends getting new clothes and new toys. But I do remember one Christmas that was a bit more traditional. And I do remember the one thing that was different from the birthday-style celebration - that being the anticipation. The excitement from which there seemed like no end. You couldn't think about anything else but that morning. Food didn't matter, rest didn't matter. It was all about what would be waiting for you when your parents finally woke up and you got to go downstairs.
[Light pauses to roll his neck, eliciting an audible popping noise.]
When I came to the Empire the first time, my results were displeasing. They left a bitter taste in my mouth. I was so focused on helping someone that had, now that I look back on it, clearly checked out of the business that I lost sight of the match in front of me. There were a couple of times where I had victory well within my grasp, only to lose focus on the match and have to focus on keeping my team together. In the end, that lack of cohesiveness cost me the match, as it should when you're dealing with two wrestlers the caliber of Impact and Sean Stevens. When that happened, I thought I was done here.
But then Boogie Smalls opened his mouth, and said some things that went far beyond the bounds of what quantified as normal fare, even for this business. He made it personal.
So I came back one more time to defend my honor and the honor of Defiance. I wasn't going to just stand by and let this man disparage me like he did. Unfortunately, that didn't end exactly the way I hoped, although it took a full $25 of Home Depot's finest to keep me down.
Once again, I thought that was it for me and the Empire.
Until Dan Ryan came calling.
He made mention of a newly-opened roster spot that he needed to fill, one thing led to another, and here I am.
[A smile and an extension of the hands to the side for a second before letting them fall.]
And thus the anticipation. Thus the excitement.
Aside from a one-off in two thousand seven, I've always wrestled within the same group of people. Obviously, some come and some go, and you get some new blood that way. But this is the first time in a very long time that I've been an outsider coming into a fed with plenty of established stars.
It’s like I'm running down the stairs as a kid to a world of unknown, exciting new things, all while wondering which present I'm gonna open up first.
In this case, it looks like I got the one wrapped in black paper with an anarchistic design on it.
[Light leans forward slightly, being careful to hold his neck steady.]
Much like you have heard things about me, Anarky, I've heard things about you. But unfortunately, they're really not all that flattering. I’ve heard people say obsessed with the anti-Championship. I’ve heard people say that you’re not what you used to be when you were World Champion. I’ve heard people even go as far as to say that you’re delusional in your unusual beliefs.
Maybe there’s a part of you that thinks I believe that. That I buy into the whispers that even a newcomer has heard around the locker room in his first couple of shows. Maybe you even think I’m going to look down upon you, or treat you with some kind of disdain.
Most of that is likely because you don’t know me very well just yet. So let me introduce myself.
[Leaning back into his chair, Christian allows his neck to relax back into the pillow as much as possible while keeping a good posture for the camera.]
My name is Christian Light. Some call me The Last Nighthawk. Some call me The Master of Wrestling. But Chris is fine by me all the same.
I live and breathe this sport. Since I was about eight years old, every step I've made has been designed to either get me one step closer to this business or keep me around in this business for just a little bit longer. And every time I step into that ring, I have two goals, and in no particular order, here they are.
Number one, I go out there to give the fans a show that’s worth every penny of their entertainment dollar that they’re spending, no matter which federation I’m in. After all, I remember saving my pennies as a kid to come out and see the big-name promotions when I was a kid, and I remember how bad I felt the one or two times those promotions brought a stinker through.
And number two...I’m out there to be the best in the world at what I do. Defiance, EPW, WWA, NWA...it doesn't matter where I've been or where I’m going. I want to be able to say I did everything I can to win every time I step into the ring. Sometimes that means winning. Sometimes that means taking a step back in the pursuit of gladiatorial perfection. Much like an expert glass-blower, not every piece of hot glass takes shape into a masterpiece...but that glass-blower will keep working, keep forming the glass over and over again.
And when he achieves perfection...that is the moment when he is truly proud to be alive.
[A small smile creeps up on the face of the Last Nighthawk, which he holds in a pause for a second before continuing.]
I also believe rules have a place in the context of our sport. Without rules, how would we prove who is greater than whom? It’s only in leveling the playing field for all involved that we can truly find out...on any given night...who the better fighter is.
Now, being that you’re wrestling under the name Anarky, and your finisher is called the Chaos Breaker, I’m sure you have a different opinion, and I can respect that. It takes different types to make the world go round, you know?
[Light puts his hand to his chin for a second in though, before he takes it off and holds his right index finger up in the air.]
Also, very important...I’ve learned in my travels that one’s brain is his most cherished resource when one uses it to think for themselves. For that reason, I don’t tend to go solely off of other people’s opinions, since I have plenty of thinking time between inter-city travel and the odd hospital visit.
So when people call you crazy, I don’t tend to pay that much mind.
Here’s what I do pay mind to.
You show me respect as a competitor of the squared circle. That is appreciated. I plan on paying you the same respect in deed. After all, it’s not every day that a man walks into a seven-way elimination style title defense and walks out the victor.
You also seem to seek truth.
[A thoughtful moment of pause. As he pauses, it’s now we notice a young child, no more than 4 or 5, dressed in a pink Hello Kitty shirt with curly blonde hair wander into the screen. It’s clear she’s curious about the whole setup, and it’s also clear that Christian has no idea that she’s there.]
For now, I’ll leave that one alone. I’d rather not dull my excitement over being in the ring with one of the Empire’s top competitors by engaging in a philosophical debate that will probably end with us in disagreement.
There will be plenty of time this week for the seeking of truth, be it mental or physical.
I’d rather take this time to get to know the man known as the Anti-Champion. To get to know the man I will do battle with for the first time ever this coming show.
[Light makes a motion behind him, to his laptop hooked up to his TV. The TV is now on Anarky vs Dis]
As you can see, I’ve got film aplenty to take in. So I’m going to get to work.
I do my best film study when I’m hyped about my match, after all.
See you soon, Anarky.
[As Christian smiles, we hear the sound come back on again, courtesy of a 4-5 year old child finding the play button.]
DM: Pat Jones needs to get into the ring and make this count, Dis is OUT COLD!
MN: He’s DEAD! His neck got broken! I hope you monsters can sleep at night knowing you supported this!
[Christian turns around, surprised, and finds the young lady smiling at Christian. He tries to resist the urge to smile back, but he’s cracking a slight one.]
Marissa, didn't I tell you to go to bed? Come on, let’s get you tucked back in you little rascal.
[As Christian picks up “Marissa”, the playback of the match continues.]
DT: Pat Jones is crawling back into the ring [Crowd buzzing, some of the crowd is looking off to the side] THE COUNT!!
[We start the fade as Light walks off-shot to the right.]
DM: Can Anarky do it?! Is this it?!
[And we cut.]