Outside of the new corporate building of The New Era of WFW. The bench outside the office is empty, a few birds scattered about on a warm sunny summer day, small breezes force their way across as a single person sits on the bench, the camera’s walk towards him. He is in blues jeans, a pair of Heely’s shows black and white in color and sports a t-shirt that reads “I Shot the Sheriff, But I Crucified The Deputy.” As the cameras get closer his sunglass that sit on the bridge of his nose can’t hide his features any long. It is John Doe, he is semi-clean shaven, hair a mess and arms stretched out laying on the backing of the bench. John sits there for a few moments, he finally, after so long away from a camera, decides to talk.
DOE: “Days have turned to weeks, weeks into months, a lack of excellence clouding me like mustard gas over the Germans. What caused this downfall? Was it the fact the Coast Guard practically let me drown after my match at Banned in the USA? Was it the fact that after my tireless hours of campaigning for Edmunds that he still didn’t receive election for WFW President? Was it the fact that no matter how many times Marx failed to go toe to toe with me the NEW Corporation considered me to much of a rogue star to be put into a title position?”
DOE: “Maybe it was all of these things and more that made me genuinely hate the corporate side of wrestling professionally, or maybe it was the sheer fact that I was sick to my stomach at how easily I went from a promotional wrestler to one dragged through sh-t? Was it so simple to ask these cigar smoking, yacht purchasing tools to enter me into a position that would credit me for my tireless amount of hours?”
DOE: “Yet, they haven’t, they wouldn’t and the name would be lost through the ages as the memory is forgotten, every day the question has plagued me, through the tireless empty fighting and the meaningless matches, ONE question plagues the mind, who am I?”
DOE: “I guess the question is in every human, no one really knows WHO they are, and they all have a name, a family, an address. I had to scar my body to purchase a home to GET an address, my family was an allegiance of wrestlers backstage who seemingly turned their back to me, and the fans who would watch my blood pour out for their own sick amusement would abandon all hopes and dreams of a John Doe.”
DOE: “Just a face, just a name, no real legacy to follow, like a crack addict out of halfway houses I have been in and out of these promotions, mistreated by these promotions tormented and discarded like a tampon out the loose lips of Lindsay Troy.”
DOE: “Then I received a call, like many others that were traveling around the indy circuits while business was awaiting a spark. The corporation called me, I remember it, one of the only things I can remember so clearly. While others turned their backs to NEW and WFW only to rub the KY on their asses for EPW and NFW I stayed at home playing World of Warcraft. I stayed at home leveling an Orc Shaman, hell I even killed some dragon winged f*ck with some nerds yelling in my ear about how they reached 5k DPS.”
DOE: “I know, the question is why did I do that? Because I had nothing better, it was between WoW or reading Twilight, and books about faggy vampires don’t really tickle my rectum. To be honest I had no strive TO wrestle anymore, it was drained away very quickly. I have no REASON to wrestle, I was nothing more than a wash up, a man who couldn’t produce, sure I did my time, I did the calls from small independent companies to get my pay day…”
DOE: “But some how, in my heart of hearts it was never enough, the roar of the stadium, the music cueing up as the ring explodes, and me to walk on that ramp to the loud ignorant fans that would boo me till one died from lack of oxygen. Yes, it was all missing, that little factor, that little notion that tickles our minds. I even missed commentaries in complete disgust with me.”
DOE: “But here I am, once again, here I am to wrestle, to force my way through, I suppose that it is for a different reason this time. I would gloat and smirk at the paychecks at the contract signings, no more of that, there is no reason to, consider this a fresh plate.”
FADE IN:Framed wall studs stand erected - a cool New Orleans breeze whistles through the maze of 2 x 6 studs. Standing in a large opening, at least ten foot by ten foot, is the Prototype and WFW newcomer, Tyler Houston. His curly blond hair is dampened and his brow glistening with sweat. Houston's chiseled, yet sinewy 6'4" frame is covered by a white, sleeveless WFW: New Era tee and light blue Silvertabs, complete with a claw hammer hanging through the carpenter loop. Houston peers stoically ahead - his expression hardened yet seemingly relaxed.
TYLER HOUSTON: “How fitting that the merger and reincarnation of World’s Finest Wrestling and New Era kicks off in the Big Easy, New Orleans. As you can tell, New Orleans knows its fair share about rebuilding and restarting. And just like I’m helping build this house with Project Rebuild New Orleans, I plan on helping WFW: New Era rebuild and stand as prominently as the two promotions once did. And by God I will, with these two hands, some heavy lifting, and a touch of elbow grease. That’s my mission statement and promise to all parties involved, and his word is all a man really has.”
Houston’s firm expression gives way to his charming smirk.
“With that out of the way, time to get down to business … time to talk about WFW’s return card … time to talk about Tyler Houston’s debut … time to talk about Almost Live. I was quite pleased to hear that I’d been involved with the kickoff show – that I’d get an opportunity to contribute to the restart. Getting WFW off to a running start will no doubt be a team effort and there’s no better way to describe my first match.”
“As I’ll be competing in a tag team match against John Doe and Peter File, two men have no familiarity with. And adding to the unknown is my tag team partner, King Krusher. That’s the catch with joining new promotions in a new territory. While I’m sure these men have done good in this business, I’m not aware of their accomplishments or accolades.”
Houston rubs his hands together.
“I’d rather step inside the ring and not know what a man is capable of. No, not because I fear the talent they may possess or what they’ve done in the past. All that is thrown out the window … every time you step inside the ring your past accomplishments are washed away. Whether you’re a greenhorn making his debut or a World Champion defending his title, you’re getting my best -- each and every time I step into the ring. It’s the only way I know how to compete … the standard I uphold … an attitude and drive that I believe everybody should strive for.”
“This topic of competition, standards, and drive really jumped to the forefront after John Doe spoke. Doe seemed rather eager to step inside the ring for Almost Live, which is something I can relate to. I also am eager, but there’s a difference between John Doe and Tyler Houston. John Doe spoke about competing and drive, but in a much different light than I did. He spoke about a lack of drive and the lack of desire to compete. Not to step on any toes, but the greatest athletes in the world are just that because of their drive, their desire, and, of course, training.
Three fingers are held up to represent drive, desire, and training.
“Whether your admission to simply lounging around on the couch and playing videos games is true or not, I do not know. I can tell you this, however. If you’ve been slacking off, if you’ve been stealing time … there’s no chance for success in WFW. No chance to compete with the thoroughbred wrestlers that clutter its ranks. While I admire your honesty, I can’t help, but imagine that your in-ring performance will suffer. In the end, we won’t know until Almost Live … until one team stands victorious and the other goes back to the drawing board.”
The camera FADES OUT with Tyler Houston’s arms resting on two 2x6 studs, his gaze stoic.
(Fade In: The dimly lit streets of a major metropolitan area, with the buzz of sirens in the distance and the perpetual clash of neighbors from tenements above a narrow alleyway. As rain gently pours down from the brick walls, the mortar seeping with each drop of water, even in the hustle of life, the city appears wrapped within tranquility. Wretched, depraved and undeserved a man walks from the shadows of this dark corner of urban decay. A familiar melody from cult classic Glen or Glenda is heard as this shadowy figure approaches skipping to the melody coming from his lips, in perfect step. As the tempo increases so to do his steps, he then reaches the light from a nearby fixture and the face is revealed to be that of Peter File. His tattered Warrant tee matches perfectly with the skimpy acid wash shorts he dons bellow his waist. His hair glistening in the rays, and stubble so rough it could sand end tables, he still resembles the man that fans across the world had grown to be disgusted by and love. Smirking, he begins.)
File: Mmm ... so it would seem that the NEW Era has begun, and it shall commence with a battle of brains, brawn and .. mm.. balls. Perhaps it is fitting that the decrepit streets of New Orleans would be the stage for an event so massive that it would make Katrina a mere pimple on the ass of the rednecks who inhabit its filthy borders. Some would say that.. coming.. mm .. to New Orleans could be a sweet dream for me, as it is the home to sexual miscreants from across the land.. a disease ridden pit of debauchery for me to dip in.
(Looking down, File scratches his head and allows flakes of dandruff to cast a wintry mix within the frame.)
... they would only partially be correct. For while these beings are my play things, from their tiny toes to their bulbous.. .. unmentionables, they are not the best reason for me being glad to dwell within its seedy borders for one eveing. WHAT.. do you say, would make me squeel with the excitement of a double sided Darth Maul with vibrating action? Of course my sillies it would be the return of me to the ring, in a double team, gangbang, rollercoaster ride of a sausage fest featuring two testosterone filled roid monkeys. One can only hope that they're still the ... 'total package'... now.
(Snickering to himself, File walks in circles momentarily collecting his thoughts.)
While yes, my record within the NEW was never one you could.. mmmm.. shake a stick at, it did show my willingness to battle any opponent, on any grounds, single handedly placing myself in a myraid of positions... luckily for me, missionary is one of my ... mmm.. favorites. But records my friends were meant to be improved upon, and that is why I agreed to return to the ring in the newest venture deemed WFW.. for it gives mt the chance to.. RISE to the ATTENTION of all within the crowd. From the sultry teens to the lust filled tweens.. with their Miley Cyrus rhinestone boycut roast beef hiders on, with full camel toe visability.
Mmmm .. as my partner, the illustrious and glorously rippled John Doe has eluded to, he's ready for the sloppiest of all seconds ..
.. and one knows that the sloppier the second, the sweeter the juices.. mmm. And from what I can tell, any man who deems himself a King Krusher, must have more than enough juice to.. spread around. As for Tyler Houston, mmm.. my darling, you appear more than fitting to take a ride down the darkest roads, for as I see you nail.. you so perfectly strike each with a fury unseen in most men.. it turns my insides into Jell-O and my outsides into timber. Perhaps you can ask your God what he can do the reduce my urges when I see your puckered face kissing the mat and my hands gently carressing your inner thigh.. adjusting for every flinch.. every attempt at reversal.. mmm.. oh God.. if you could please find a way to make him see the error of his ways, and have him give into the temptation of ... mmmm.. failure.
You've shown you know how to handle a firm piece of wood, but are you proven enough to say you can handle pieces much.. thicker? You seem eager to show your prowess within the ring.. and let us hope that your delicate mouth can handle the rough nature of our meeting. For my young man.. while your words breath fresh air, and cast a long shadow.. one can only hope that, if I were you, your actions inside and outside of the ring can match its ... mmm.. length.
Your drive, desire and training have shown us little more than inches of growth in a man, who's size would create a myth of a foot of .. legacy.
(File takes time to laugh to himself, licking his lips and placing his hands in the rear of his shorts.)
So I await my teams fate, for it is not written in stone.. it is merely awaiting a chisel and at Almost Live, we shall show the world why even the most vile can succeed when allowed access.
(The following is an excerpt from an exclusive interview done by former NFWA and GLCW announcer Tony Ross, now a media correspondent for WFW:NE. This interview will be distributed to several websites and magazines including 1wrestling.com and wrestling-news.com.)
TONY ROSS: After a six-year absence from the wrestling limelight, the man known as King Krusher is returning to the wrestling ring for another shot at glory. The last we saw of him, Krusher was the commissioner of Great Lakes Championship Wrestling and made life miserable for the likes of Michael Manson and Anarky while running a tight ship. Before that, he held several major titles in many different federations, including the NFWA, AFWC, IWC, MFL, NGEN and many others. His career started way back in 1991 and now he is back to the delight of the fans everywhere. Krusher, it's a pleasure to speak with you again.
KING KRUSHER: Tony, you and I go way back and you were always the consumate professional. The pleasure is mine.
T.R.: Thank you. My first question is the obvious one, why return now after six years?
K.K.: Well first of all, I don't want to be considered the Brett Favre of wrestling as far as not knowing when to quit. Six years ago, when GLCW closed, I was the commissioner and not an active wrestler and had not wrestled since a year before that. So technically, I've been out of the ring for 7 years. I would have wrestled for GLCW but I was very good friends with the owner Scott Malec and we decided that it would be a conflict of interest and I ended up as the commissioner. It was a great role for me and I enjoyed it tremendously... I mean who wouldn't like telling Michael Manson what to do? But the thrill of competition was missing. However, I had several nagging injuries that I did not make public at the time that were keeping me out of the ring.
T.R.: Care to elaborate?
K.K.: Yes. I was in my early 30's yet my body felt 20 years older. I had been going non-stop for 10 years in several different leagues all over the world. One night I would be in Chicago for one fed and then I'd have to be in Japan the next day for another. The travel was insane and all the wear and tear took a serious toll on my knees. It got to the point where I couldn't be sitting on a plane for more than 30 minutes without writhing in agony. The decision was easy to take a break when Malec offered me the GLCW Commissioner position. That break ended up lasting seven years.
T.R.: Let's talk about what happened after GLCW closed, if you don't mind. Your wife Kelly contracted breast cancer later in 2003. Tell us about her battle and how if affected you.
K.K.: Kelly is the strongest person I have ever known. She makes me look like a field mouse. (laughs) We were only married for a year before she was diagnosed. She battled the cancer for five years, had a masectomy on one breast and thought it was gone, only to have it come back in the other. Cancer is a vicous, debilitating disease as everyone knows but I have never seen anyone so strong and optimistic in the face of such dire adversity.
T.R.: She was declared cancer-free late last year. Can you describe your feelings after hearing that news?
K.K.: I can't begin to describe the feeling we both had when we got the word from the oncologist that the cancer was gone. It was by far the hardest thing I've ever had to go through and I can only imagine what it was like for her. I opened up a wrestling school back home in Chicago right before her diagnosis but relied on several close friends to help run the place while I spent most of my time with her. You had to be prepared for the worst and I didn't want to miss a minute of time with her if I couldn't help it. I feel extremely blessed with the way things turned out and now more than ever I feel the need to give back.
T.R.: I couldn't be happier for you and Kelly. You mentioned your wrestling school...is this one of the ways you've given back?
K.K.: I think so. The school opened in October of 2003 back in my old neighborhood in Chicago. I got a great deal on an old warehouse in Bridgeport right before property values skyrocketed there but of course now I don't even want to think about what it's worth after all this economic mess. (laughs) Anyways, I charge a low fee to join the school and like I mentioned before I have a few friends like the Midwest Wrecking Crew that help me run the place. We've lost money on it a couple years but I don't care. I'm helping start careers and giving back to the community which is what it's all about. We run several charity shows around the Chicagoland area and we do a lot of work with inner-city kids, several of which have joined the school. It is extremely fulfilling and worthwhile at the same time.
T.R.: Now that you're returning to the ring, who is going to run the school?
K.K.: The Midwest Wrecking Crew will take over day-to-day duties while my cousin, who is a former wrestler, handles the financial side of it and I fully trust all of them to keep things going in tip-top shape. My schedule in WFW:NE isn't as grueling as I've had in the past so I will be able to stop and visit often.
T.R.: You have been placed in a tag team match on the first card of the newly merged WFW:NE along with Tyler Houston pitted against John Doe and Peter File. Your comments?
K.K.: I don't know a lot about Houston and he doesn't know me personally, but I've seen enough video to know that I am impressed with his attitude and work ethic. He is exactly the type of guy I want in my corner against two lunatics like File and Doe. You got a sexual deviant and a guy still trying to find himself after his memory was wiped clean with a squeegee. File makes me sick to my stomach and I will have no problem tearing him apart like a used rag doll but I do have a bit of sympathy for Doe, not that he cares.
K.K.: Yeah, the poor guy can't remember anything from his past. Maybe a slingshot brainbuster will jar loose some of his repressed memories. Then again, that may not be a good thing for him.
T.R.: Do you truly feel that you are ready after all these years?
K.K.: Tony, I am 40 years old and have never felt better. I have maintained a strict training regimen while I've been out of active competition. I certainly did not let myself go by any means. After what we went through the last 5 years, I am also mentally stronger than I've ever been. There isn't much that can phase me at this point in my life. My knees are as good as new after surgery and years of rehab. I feel like I'm 20 again. That is REAL bad news for File and Doe. And THAT SUCKS FOR THEM! (laughs)
T.R.: I've been looking forward to hearing that again for a long time, Krusher! It's been an honor and a pleasure speaking with you again and I look forward to much success from you here in WFW:NE! Thank you for your time.
(The following is an except from a radio interview conducted by Johnny O'Toole and features an interview with legendary pro-wrestling superstar Peter File about his life, loves and personal interests inside and outside of the squared circle.)
Johnny O'Toole: Frohman's Jams and Jelly's! Makers of the finest fruit spreads and water-soluble personals lubricants money can buy! Alright everyone we're back with 'The Sultan of Twat' himself, Mr. Peter File. He's hear to discuss his upcoming tag team match for the newly reformed WFW and anything else on his mind! So Peter, how is life treating you since we saw you last?
File: Life, oh life. It has been a Topsy-Turvy ride since I last stepped into the ring for NEW. I had begun contemplating my line of work and how fruitful.. or in many cases, fruitless it had become. For people across the country had not fully welcomed the man, the myth, the John Holmes legend of this here.. your Peter File. While I had accepted that, I wasn't sure if middle America had.. and it was time for me to take a break from wrestling and return to my roots.. the junior high schools of the bread basket. To as movie legend Curtis Armstrong once said.. 'I'll be out coming the high schools all day!' It was there, while serving time for a misdemeanor flashing.. well, one could say the wind was whipping that day and a tad pole happened to jump out of the lake if you know what I mean.. and by the look on your square jawed face.. I can tell you want do, and want more.
But anyways.. I digress. It was then, while I sat by myself I realized that professional wrestling was where I belonged, and I made my way back to the offices of NEW only to find them boarded up and ready to be packed away. Another federation down the hatch.. but earlier this year I heard rumors that the WFW would be buying out the NEW and all its contracts, which meant I would once again have the chance to seduce the growing minds of teenage America and my jollies were once again gotten off. Mmm.. let us say, Peter File bought many a Kleenex that day.
O'Toole: What is your impression of the NEW Era of professional wrestling?
File: Hmm, to put it kindly.. I believe it to be one tub girl short of an internet meme. But.. perhaps that is why they tendered my contract, for they knew that.. I could resurrect what was once a valued treasure within the northeast. I have confidence in the men at the top.. which is always where I like my men.. ha ha.. to do what is best for the company, and if that means parading my depravity on Saturday morning recap shows and on the cover of marshmallow puffed high fructose corn syrup laden breakfast cereals.. then so be it. Because you see, whether they like it or not.. No one is safe for I'm the model for date rape, and my opponents and owners are destined for a south of heaven sleigh ride to obscurity and painful anal stitching each and every week.There is a lot for me to accomplish within the WFW, and it all starts soon, with my match against the chiseled mass of rotted flesh we can now don, "The American Douche" Tyler Houston and his solid block of man lovin' partner King Ka-ka-ka-ka-Russsshaaaaaaa. Now.. a lot must be given to my partner in all of this, that of the legendary and often confused.. not so different from myself, John Doe. Perhaps this Simon and Garfunkle we call a team can truly put together a tight tandem of tenacious toughness against our greaseballed opponents.Now.. mmm.. thats alliteration.
O'Toole: Speaking of your opponents. Recently, Tony Ross interviewed one of your opponents for Almost Live, he described you as a 'sexual deviant', someone who 'makes me sick to my stomach' and 'a used rag doll.' What is your take on his few choice words?
File: Mmm.. the few choice words, as you put it, he had for me.. they show his inability to fully grasp me, although for all intent and purposes I would love for him to wrap his burly man hands around my narrow waist and thrust himself upon my frail frame as I wither and cry out. Panting.. screaming.. howling.. moaning for it to never end. See, King Krusher attempts to appear as a massive rock, who's vulnerability is seen as non existent.. but who's true vulnerability is his inability to see through the clouded judgment that swirls around his narrowly spaced head.
O'Toole: Wow.. perhaps, we weren't expecting THAT type of response.
File: Y'see, it may be that a value myself more than those around me.. my peers.. who attempt to use their mental fortitude, but only end up shriveled between the legs, as I lay over them .. arms raised to the sky, screaming with joy. But who knows Johnny.. who knows.. I am not one for whimsical banter as many men in my field are. I prefer to play the field and let my words merely dance around me, and not mold me, hold me and scold me. For people are turned off by the image of one grotesque individual in the same ring that 'legends' of the sport once stood.. where they bathed in the applause of thousands, glistening.. mmm.. with sweat, as it rolled down their curved backs, resting upon their adult undies.. oh, excuse me.. I seem to have forgotten where I was.
O'Toole: You were mentioning how..
File: Oh yes.. yes.. mmm.. I apologize. Parents bring their children to a rasslin' show in hopes of getting away from their home life, and having little Timmy get a chance to see brooding latent homosexual men grab and prod each other in a 12' x 12' square with padded canvas. But, once I come to the ring.. promoters across the land receive countless phone calls, 'Don't book that disgusting man! He's ruined my son/daughter/hermaphrodites life! HOWWWW DAREE YOU!!!' And well.. I laugh at this.. for little do they know little Timmy already touches himself to pictures of men in the Abercrombie ad while his father is at work touching other grown men with his hammer in the construction site. All I do is mirror reality.. the same reality Americans and humans for that matter are afraid to see. Pishaw.
O'Toole: Well thank you very much for stopping by Peter, we're out of time. You can catch him next week on WFW: Almost Live as he takes on King Krusher and Tyler Houston! For Johnny O'Toole this is 99.3 WGRN Grundle Radio!
FADE IN: Standing in front of a WFW: NE background is Tyler Houston, dressed in a black button-up dress shirt and charcoal slacks with matching Bostonian dress shoes. Houston’s arms are folded across his chest, showing his shirt sleeves to be rolled up to mid-forearm. There is no grin or jubilation present as Houston appears to be all-business, in attire and mindset, on this evening.
HOUSTON: “It’s been a couple days, and now we’ve been able to hear from all parties involved.”
“I must say I was relieved to hear what King Krusher had to say. Walking into this match, I had no idea what to expect from him. I knew he was a veteran of the sport and that was all. What I quickly came to learn is that Krusher is a man of principle, a family man. He speaks his mind and tells you like it is. You can admire a person with that approach, with that forwardness.”
“There’s no doubt that King Krusher and I will be in synch when match time rolls around.”
“While John Doe and Peter File view this match as an opportunity to shine separately, our team realizes that without cohesion and a united goal, there is little hope of victory. I can assure that come Almost Live, Tyler Houston and King Krusher will be on the same page … the question is, will you two be?”
Houston tilts his head slightly to the side and downward.
HOUSTON: “Peter File … twice now I’ve heard you speak leading up to this match. The first was filled with sexual innuendo, off-the-wall behavior, and a complete disregard for any sense of decency. The second was no better. I’m going to show my hand here and put all the chips on the table. I give everybody a chance to prove themselves … and I’ve got no problem awarding second and third chances. You, Peter File, have already run the well dry on your end. There will be no amicable meetings between you and I. There’s not a chance I allow somebody of your nature to step inside a wrestling ring and be successful.”
“At first, I thought maybe you’re just going for shock value. Perhaps, merely a tasteless joke. I was wrong because you followed that up with more trash. It’s not very often that you’ll see Tyler Houston honestly infuriated. I very rarely get personal, but, File, I’m going to personally make sure you are taught a valuable lesson. That’s not a threat, but a promise that I make to any parent, grandparent, brother or sister who might tune into WFW and is sickened to see such a man on TV. And it will serve as a warning for anybody who embraces your though and might follow in your pathetic footsteps.”
“I can assure you that nobody will call in to stop you from performing at Almost Live.”
“You think this is a big joke? You find acting like this amusing? You want shock value?”
“There is nothing lighthearted about this and I’m not amused.
“As far as your shock value goes, I'll give you shock value and hope you’re fully prepared to face the consequences.”
“Right now, you just may be a desperate man grasping at straws, but after Almost Live … you’ll be eating through one.”
The image FADES OUT with Tyler Houston glaring into the camera.
(FADE-IN: King Krusher's wrestling school, "Krusher's Kingdom" in Chicago, Illinois. A converted warehouse is the setting with a wrestling ring set up in the middle of the floor. Workout equipment and mats line the rest of the floor while the walls are lined with several photographs, awards, trophies and championship belts. Two youngsters are in the ring doing crossover drills while Bonecrusher Bradley of the Midwest Wrecking Crew keeps a close watch on them. Outside the ring, the Motor City Maniac talks to two other hopeful grapplers about the science of throwing a stiff clothesline. The camera pans past the ring to a back office visible through a window in the wall. King Krusher can be seen finishing up watching the latest Peter File promo, posted on WFW's website.
(CUT-TO: The inside of K.K.'s office. Krusher swivels his chair around and looks into the camera. He is wearing blue jeans with the newest black WFW:NE T-shirt)
KING KRUSHER: Nice act, File. I liked it better the first time I saw it when Madonna Wayne Grossard was doing it. And of course everything he did was lifted from Marilyn Manson so you're a third generation copy of this little gimmick. (Sigh) Yet another loser trying to play off the fears of the "moral majority" and exposing the deep underbelly of society to show everyone what a screwed up world we live in. And then we all get bored in five minutes and move on to the next flash-in-the- pan trying to shock us out of our middle class doldrums. (rolls eyes)
(K.K. spins the chair back around and faces the computer screen. He pulls up a profile of Tyler Houston and displays it on the screen)
K.K.: Tyler Houston. This is the athlete of the future. Someone with a sense of RESPECT and HONOR who knows the value of HARD WORK. A guy that understands full well who pays the bills and why we do what we do. An athlete with a profound grasp on what it is to be a winner. Not some androgynous clown looking for his 15 minutes before he gets his ass kicked right back to the indies to come up with some other way to disguise a lack of talent. I got Houston in my corner and File has the latest escapee from Bellevue who may or may not be within several miles of the same page. Houston and I may not know each other personally, but we're both driven by the same things...RESPECT...COMPETITION...and THE FANS. It begins and ends with THAT.
(K.K. stands up and looks out the picture window towards the students working out in the ring)
K.K.: There was a time when I was their age. I was young and brash and cocky but I was always down to earth. I knew where I came from and never forgot it. My father worked his ass off to put meals on our table and I picked up his work ethic and got by with BLOOD, SWEAT and TEARS for all these years...and I'll be DAMNED if I let some sideshow freak like Peter File convince anybody that he mirrors reality! Those kids out there in that ring working hard to realize their dreams is REALITY. Tyler Houston is REALITY. And worst of all, File....*I* am your REALITY. I'm the NIGHTMARE that interrupts your wet dream and puts the proverbial BOOTS to your brand of nonsense! And when your silent partner runs off leaving a trail of urine behind him, who are you going to turn to? The fans? They've been solidly in my corner for years and that ain't gonna change anytime soon. It's HOPELESS, File. I'm on a MISSION to top everything I've ever done and I've got way too much momentum, hard work, and years of hard-won experience to let some PISSANT like you stand in my way. And with Tyler Houston in my corner, that's just icing on the cake on the way to my first of MANY victories here in the WFW:NE. AND THAT SUCKS FOR YOU!!
(K.K. steps out of the office, walks up to ringside and yells encouragement to the students in the ring. He feels like he's looking into the past, but at the same time has an eye on a bright future. FADEOUT)
(Fade In: The dimly lit streets of Anywhere U.S.A. still cast their dreary memories upon the cameras fixed lenses. Peter File leans against a worn brick wall holding his head in his hands chuckling to himself in a juvenile manner. As the camera comes closer he picks his head up and turns it to the side.)
File: La-de-freakin'-da! Each time Tyler Houston opens his mouth more right winged, fecal spewing, ass-backwards down home country gibberish comes out and impales the audience with fits of laughter and confusion. I tend to think the whole Narrator Jack-Chuck Palahniuk gimmick you're running with of talking in third person, projecting yourself like another Tyler is bringing down the intelligence of our viewers.
You mention your partner King Krusher, and how you two will mesh together so well. Mmm.. a peanut buttery concoction, it is my hope that I can be the Presley fried banana right in the middle of your mix. You boys can go right ahead.. be chummy, old pals.. good friends.. partners in more than one sense of the word.. but how well can that truly help you in the ring? You are not a team, your merely slapped together to create a mid-card for the first Almost Live! You're merely filler for the main course, and at least Doe and I have come to accept that for ourselves. We've been around the business, the same as the massive meat muscle you call King Krusher.. perhaps before the match he can sit you upon his knee and give you a lesson about what it truly means to be a professional wrestler.. not just a slack jawed yokel who took too many chair shots from their cousin in the backyard.
Doe and I .. well.. we aren't partners in the truest sense, heck! I just met the guy, even I am not that easy Tyler.. so you're right on one end, too bad it isn't the back end..because I can tell by those high wasted '88 Fall collection Wranglers that you've got an ex.. mmmm.. excellent back end. So.. what we may lack in a true partnership does not take away from our need to succeed come Almost Live.. for we've both tasted GLORY before.. and we have many a HOLE to fill since last stepping foot into the ring. I know how a man like Doe works.. and what his advantages are, and he the same for I. This is what shall make us a formidable pair of opponents for you and the King Kong Kruncher, Mr. America.
(File smirks, scratching the back of head. Tilting his head towards the light above his head he sighs and returns his vision towards the camera.)
File: Captain Wholesome.. I have a sense of decency, but you are astute in my character, for I really do not care for it.. it has no place in entertainment, in wrestling.. in life, and especially not the bedroom. But, what should this have to do with proving myself to you? Take a look at the archives of the NEW or any other circuit that I've run.. and you can see that I've tamed the wildest beasts.. mmm.. and even ridden out on some, saddle and all.
(File makes a whipping motion with his hand.)
I've stepped inside the ring, and left opponents, mothers, daughters, brothers, sisters,cousins, aunts, uncles, fraternal twins, retarded infants.. wishing for more.. asking for it.. on their knees awaiting a hot lo.. And.. let us just say, they've received it. They've seen me stride towards success and tickle its taint.. and their unmentionables became soiled with the image. I'm sure to be plastered on walls all across this land.. and it is my hope to remain.. stain filled, yellow caked and with a slight tuna stench.
Now Lassie is calling, go help him grab Timmy out of the well why don'tcha?
Krusher.. The King... Krushman.. Mr. Krush, you sit in your nice office, with its florescent lights giving the viewing public a headache, and that is even before you let the words roll off your tongue. Mmm.. Kingy Baby, you're too good for this.. perhaps you can come to my home and I can dress you up better and show you some.. mmm.. thing better. So my friend.. you say you like my... 'act' better when MWG was doing it.. you mean the same MWG whom was a friend, partner and opponent in many a circuit? The same man who broke into the business.. and many virginity.. with me? Ah... Mr. Krusher.. if you're going to make false comparisons, at least do your research.. otherwise you come off as Tyler 2.0.. and is that what you want? You want to be another blue jeans wea... Oh..I forgot.. there must have been a sale on acid wash Wranglers at Wal-Mart.
So my friend.. please go back to 1997, when I first appeared on the screens of America.. and review my resume, track record and so forth. I hope this isn't telling of what we'll see in the ring, a soiled old man who can't even remember who he's facing and what direction is up. But it is okay.. those jeans you have on must be cutting off circulation to your brain. Hmmm.. I am not here to show anything to a moral majority, for .. why would I.. care what they think? They still pay my salary.. as they pay yours.. so whatever they wish to do is up to them.. if they want to despise me, that is fine.. they don't. So why don't you take your 1950's stalwart gimmick and give it back to Ronnie Reagen. The shock-and-awe of Peter File has existed for over a decade, and mmm.. the length of time I've been here.. they've loved me more.. so why would I be doing anything but casting the image they want? So darling.. don't project on me, what you fear in yourself.
(Peter sighs and then looks sternly into the camera, showing a true sense of concern.)
File: Ah you are the King baby.. who are you to say what hard work both Doe and I have put forth? Have you followed us our whole career? Apparently not.. but you are judging us, based on little more the circumstantial evidence you've created in that tiny peanut you call a sack. So you can spew vitriol from your mouth.. your gum's bleeding which each lie..and soon you'll see that not only were you misguided, but confused. Confused.. by how two 'clowns' could get over the big King. Because baby.. the Indies never held me, that is why the NEW tendered my contract.. that is why they fill my pockets with the money from ticket sales.. and your blue jeans are filled with hotel receipts and plane tickets.
..dear friend, competition.. there is only one competition.. and you've not shown me you're able to take part in it. You apparently competed for every meal at the dinner table.. oh your poor little sap.. did daddy touch your ass when you flipped the tractor? Did he seduce mommy in front of you, and make you watch the consequences? Aw.. boo hoo! Poor American tragedy! What a nightmare! This is reality Kingy.. it truly is, whether it mm.. penetrated your veil is another story for another time.. but you can sit on my couch and tell me all about it. Don't deny that there are more facets to life than those pretty white fences you see outside your chummy cape.. because the world is complex.. life is the Fibonacci numbers of the universe. Always changing.. always confusing.
Your reality is a Star Wars fan fiction saga where Yoda never dies and Anakin remains pure. There is no science in your fiction, no reality to be found. Your cowardice comes across in your need to 'crush' those personalities around you that are threatening to your way of life. Aww boo-hoo! Hopefully the trail of urine that Doe leaves trickles down my chin as I lay spread eagle over your face and get a .. mmm.. one..... two... ugghhh.. three King Baby. So my darling.. the fans will remain where they always have.. in the same place your complacent mother stood when your dad used to strap her to the bed and force himself upon her.. in my place.
Now go grab yourself another pair of Wranglers off the rack.. your bunching up in the front kiddo, it is time to dosey-do..
(CUTTO: PROBLEM CHILD sitting in front of his TV, eyes wide open, dumbfounded. His greasy spiked mullet is dripping onto the shoulders of his black L7 t-shirt)
PC: Will you four queers shut the hell up already? GAT-DAMN, these WFW promo tapes keep getting mixed up in the mail and sent to me. Here I am, thinking Friday's the day when German Goo Girls Anthology finally arrives, but NOOOOO...UPS f*cks up and instead I'm forced to watch King Krusher, Tyler Houston, John Doe, and Beau Michaels yammer on about GOD KNOWS WHAT.
Yo...King Krusher...aren't you like, 45 or something dude? Nah, I'm just saying, you've been around a long ass time, that's all! You're like an old baseball card, but not a Cal Ripken rookie...more like a Candy Maldonado that's only good as a door stopper. 1991 called, King, and it said it DOESN'T want it's gimmick back...cause it sucked back then too.
What, you think I'm a TV tough guy or something? Sh*t dude, I actually went down to Krusher's Kingdom to challenge you, but I wound up playing ski-ball, laser tag, and House of the Dead 4 instead. Krusher's Kingdom RULES! Won a crapload of tokens, too. Good times. By the way, any relation to Queen Qrusher?
Now maybe I've had my penis stuck in one too many Chinese finger traps in my time, but I could swear there's something different about Beau Michaels. New haircut, Beau? Seriously, John Doe and Houston whatever the hell is name is should know better than to use words like "rectum" and "desire" around you. They're just making your job all the more easier. I mean if you're gonna relegate yourself to picking out and swooning to all the innuendos your opponents make, you should have to work for it, damn it. But seriously Beau, I'm a huge fan.
John Doe...REALLY?...F*CKING REALLY?!...so you're saying I DIDN'T have to watch that John Ritter movie 12 years ago to come up with a snappy name? Man, I feel cheated. I'd just give you my real name if I wasn't afraid of Cameron Cruise using it like a cheap town bicycle. Crap, I just violated my New Year's resolution: "I shall refrain from burying Cameron Cruise at every turn."
And as for you, Tyler Houston...well...you're about as bland and useless as Krusher's wife's rotted off cancer chest.
In fact, f*ck all four of you douches...I challenge you all...ALL...you a four on one match at the next show. All four of you, VERSUS ME. Oh no, I'm dead serious. I want the gauntlet baby, THE GAUNTLET! And you know why I can do this? Take a gander, you tumbling d*ckweeds. CAUSE I'M THE SH*T!
Damn, I've gotta remember to stop saying words like "gauntlet" in front of Beau...
(FADE-IN: Louis Armstrong International Airport, Arrival Terminal, New Orleans, Lousiana. It's about 2am the morning of the Almost Live show and King Krusher is making a late arrival in town after some pressing business at his wrestling school had to be taken care of. The terminal is sparsely populated, yet a few passengers recognize K.K. and ask for an autograph. As tired as he is, Krusher is happy to oblige. As he turns to head toward the luggage pick-up, a cameraman/reporter from the WFW website approaches)
CAMERAMAN: Hey Krusher! Krusher! Can we get one last promo for the website for the show?
KING KRUSHER: Good Lord, you guys couldn't wait until the afternoon? I didn't realize how damn often that website gets updated. Yeah I suppose I can crank one out while we're here. It's not like I need sleep or anything. (rolls eyes good-naturedly)
CAMERAMAN: OK, it's all set. Roll 'em.
K.K.: OK, so here I am in New Orleans at the airport at 2am and it's been about 5 or 6 years since I've been here. I can't tell you how many Mardi Gras celebrations I've witnessed and how much drunken debauchery I was a part of down here...but then I grew up. Something I can't say the same of Peter File. I did catch the promos on the Wi-Fi with my laptop and I got a nice little chuckle from Problem Child before passing out for the rest of the flight thanks to File's infantile ramblings. I didn't even think about the Beau Michaels thing. But there is a big difference here...Michaels was only looking for love and attention. File is something more dangerous. File represents what happens when your parents don't give you enough attention and you end up growing up on porno magazines and late night cable television. A very confused young boy who never had any guidance or direction becomes the pathetic excuse for a man who has the misfortune of standing across the ring from me and Tyler Houston later on tonight.
(Krusher puts down his carry-on bag and glances at the passengers walking through the terminal)
K.K.: You talk about my 1950's values and my wholesomeness and I hate to break it to you...but this country still believes in heroes, regardless of the efforts of scum like you to destroy that belief. I represent everything that deep down inside you wish you had. A loving family, public acceptance, and stability just to name a few. Sure, there's a few trolls living in their mother's basements that get off on your antics and there's no doubt that you have quite a little cult following...but these are the future criminals, child molestors, and rapists of the world. Way to be a role-model File. I'm sure you're proud.
(Krusher takes a sip of his bottled water and stares intently at the camera)
K.K.: I don't have all night to stand here and describe all the ways I'm going to take File and Doe apart piece by piece and I certainly don't have time to listen to all the sexual inneundos File is going to come up with as part of his "shock for shock's sake" act. That kinda crap doesn't faze me in the least. It never did. I've been around a long time and stepped over much better men on my way to the top and while I'm not underestimating your abilities, File...I just want you to understand that you're not going to remember much after you careen into the brick wall known as King Krusher. When the smelling salts are applied to your nose and you regain consciousness from the perverted fantasyland that you no doubt will be prancing around in...I do want you to remember who did this to you. You may think I'm "wholesome" and "decent" but when I'm in the ring, all bets are off and I become a man possessed. (snarling) I will snap your neck without a second thought and sleep like a baby tonight. No remorse. No regrets. Just like that. (snaps) It's probably not the best example to set for Houston and all the other younger wrestlers in WFW:NE...but maybe I'm not as wholesome as you thought I was, DIRTBAG.
(Krusher quickly turns and walks off to pick up his luggage. The cameraman thanks Krusher for his time but he's already out of earshot. FADEOUT)
File: Welp.. there is good news today, at least on my front. For mmm.. it appears that King Baby doesn't know when to close his mouth, insert the gag, and just take it like the champ he is. But tidily-deedily-boe, it is okay.. because everything is turning up File and Doe!
Kingy, you get all your autographs from those sinewy rascals you call fans. Smear your autograph across their class notes, or sweatshop 'free' t-shirts with your slimming face plastered across the front.. it must be worth the $24 their coke addicted mother spent..even though she had to sleep with Uncle Don to pay for it. But hey.. a smile is a smile..an autograph is an autograph.. and you're still missing the ..mmm.. point of this whole situation.
My friend.. growing up has nothing to do with me, or you. It is a frame of mind, an
attitude.. a certain je ne sais quoi.. so parade around calling my actions 'infantile' or
whatever useful dictionary phrase you've picked up while actually picking up a book. Like a good magician.. I'm always full of tricks and surprises.. but while you're watching one hand, the other is truly performing the magic.. and let us just say.. there is magic all around darling. Y'see, Problem Child.. whomever that is.. wishes to do the same as you, and confuse me with characters of wrestling lore.. wrestlers, like Beau whom I even faced..
(Breaking the fourth wall, Peter yells at a production assistant off screen to cue the
Pole on a Pole reel.)
File: Ha... this was one of the best matches ever seen within the NEW, and Boy George it was beautiful, even if I ended up on the bottom. To see the squirming bodies and jiggling bellies cowering, while they stuffed mmm.. footlongers down their throats while Beau, Gossard and I paraded around in our Sunday best and birthday suits. So yes my darling King Baby, we did receive a lot of attention and fame, just as Beau wanted.. and it created a stir within the wrestling world, garnering the NEW much needed support.. and well.. that is why I am here, is it not?
I am not here to defy you, or break the spirit of heroism that this country cherishes ..heck, they believe in Jesus.. who is the first superhero, he even has his own graphic novel full of incredible albeit unbelievable actions! Just like that fantasy character, you too are full of incredible talk.. but deniable actions. I don't wish to have anything you have baby cakes.. mmm.. except maybe you on top of me, because who doesn't love a strapping young Nancy? What you have is simply on the parallel spectrum to me, so why would I crave an element that is already attributed on my periodic table? You've become a comedy for the ages, parroting what those shills you call fans want.. not what you.. mmmm truly want snookums.
The family I want, is alive and well.. the public acceptance is seen every time I enter a ring.. need I show the clips from the tape once more? And stability.. well.. you've got me there.. but what good ever came from doldrums? If I wanted mediocrity and cardboard I'd be.. well.. You. That is why I stay true to myself .. mmm.. and all the deviants, miscreants and rapscallions who dwell in their basements ooze through the world.. taunting you, and creating a fear inside your mind that dwarfs all your actions. So cry as you want cutie.. but you can't take us out.. we're like rabbits. Constantly multiplying.
My baby.. I hope you're as dirty as you say you are..
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