[Black background. A single, solitary stool. Plain. Simple. Cameron Lee Waubash wouldn't have it any other way. Walking into the shot, probably a bit too close to the camera, comes "The Beverly Hills Bastard" dressed in the brand new Freddie Sagawa "Gwai Lo Gonna Die" t-shirt, and a pair of knee length camo shorts.]
CLW: "It started with a simple blog. Then a webcam. Now I'm in a legitimate television studio. The quality of my work keeps move on up ... Like George Jefferson ... and Freddie Sagawa.
But we're not going to talk about George tonight .. just Freddie."
[Sliding onto the stool, Cameron runs a meaty paw back through his mane of somewhat greasy blonde locks.]
CLW: "Our adventure to this moment in time started with the sob story of Kevin Hardaway. A never was who was anxious to "do it" for his dead wife.
We then moved on to the sexual deviant and his crackwhore of a sister, because they "needed" the win.
Next came the individual, that depending on who you were talking to was either the laughing stock of The UltraTitle _or_ a true Cinderella story. Doesn't matter, because he fell like all the rest.
And then came the religious freak with a penchant for believing in fairy tales. A legend of the sport who whether he wanted to admit it or not, felt that Freddie Sagawa was going to be a walk in the park. He may say otherwise, but if that were the case, he would have worried less about doing good deeds for some stagehand - and focus on the task at hand.
So what about you Jack Harmen? What's your story? Huh?"
[Waubash raises an eyebrow as he stares back into the lens confidently, taking a swig from a bottle of water.]
CLW: "Oh wait. We know your story. Because it's been the same thing round after round after round."
[Waubash breaks into a tone that is part old timer, part mentally handicapped, and full on sarcastic.]
CLW: "Oooh I'm Jack Harmen.
I run a wrestling school in a dingy ass basement.
I was a champion a billion times over.
I left my wife and kid in the dust, because I love professional wrestling that much.
Blah blah blah. Yadda yadda yadda. Bull, bull, bull."
CLW: "See that Jack? I just saved you a load of work, because I went ahead and cut your promo for you. Now you can go back to your dungeon and worry about advancing the careers of a half dozen never will bes - instead of keeping YOUR focus on the threat that lies before you.
"The Kochi Cannibal" Freddie Sagawa."
[Waubash winks into the camera, but the words are pretty matter of fact.]
CLW: "Jack, listen. We're not taking you lightly. It's not my nature. Not when the promised land is within pissing distance. We know you are one hell of a competitor, otherwise you wouldn't have some of those accolades that you like to mention over and over again ad nauseum.
But let’s be frank, shall we? Your opinion of yourself? Probably just a shade higher than everybody else’s. And if that hits a sore spot, I'm sorry.
But think about it.
When people talk about the real "names" in this UltraTitle Tournament, they throw around names like Joey Melton, Troy Windham, Eli Flair, and even Joe the Plumber. But the name Jack Harmen .. Well .. it didn't come up as often as the others ... Now did it?
Why is that Jack?"
[There is the usual pause that Waubash leaves after a rhetorical ques-]
CLW: "That was not a rhetorical question Jack. Why is it that fans of the sport of professional wrestling hold those names in a higher regard than yours?
Is it because you've never grabbed that brass ring that we are calling The UltraTitle?
Because, if that is all that stands between you being "just another guy" and being "THE GUY" - then I would hate to play the role of spoiler and knock you back into the forgotten .. or maybe I should say overlooked realm. Especially when you have sacrificed sooo much in your personal life to get where you are today.
But real talk .. If it's a choice between throwing you a bone or raising the stock of my Kochi Cannibal that much higher .. Well then I am going to be the dick that I was born to be.
[Nodding his head, Waubash shrugs his shoulder kinda sheepishly.]
CLW: "Because you see, you threw aside your family for professional wrestling. You call that admirable. You call that hunger. You call that passion.
I was ostracized from my family _because of professional wrestling_.
My brother, Bradley
My sister, Macey
Much like many of your contemporaries that we have mentioned, they have been to the top of the mountain and made a name for themselves in this game. Legendary? Depends on who you ask.
But me? I was fine screwing around and living off the spoils of daddy. I was the "party boy" of the family, poisoning my body with alcohol and painkillers. And because of this, I was no brother of theirs."
[There is an uncomfortable pause as Waubash nibbles on his bottom lip, his eyes shifting away from the camera. If people don't know what a heartless prick he really was, you would swear that there was the glimmer of a tear in his eye.]
CLW: "So like I said day one. My whole involvement in this tournament, was my way of giving a big " You" to the entire Waubash clan. This UltraTitle is my way of proving to every single one of them that just because I don't have a penchant for broken bones and concussions, that I can still make a name for myself.
Because I am better than them ...
Because I am smarter than them ...
And I don't need their stamp of approval to be a success in this business or in life."
[Another pause, as Waubash takes a deep breath and stews for a moment in anger.]
CLW: "And to think, I came into this whole "promo" with a bit of respect for you on a personal and professional level. Hell, I may have even had a little bit of pity for you.
But the more I talked.
The more I thought about things.
Jack Harmen ... I ing DESPISE YOU/"
[His head snaps around towards the camera, as he glares anyone on the other side of it with the utmost contempt.]
CLW: "UltraTitle be damned.
Jack Harmen, I now have a new mission and that is to see you suffer. To see you bleed. To bask in the glorious sounds of your tears and screams of pain as my Kochi Cannibal tears into you with un-relentless fury.
Some may call me a hero for what I will have done to you.
But me? I call it sweet justice."
[The corners of Waubash's mouth start to upturn into a smile. Not his usual charming smile nor his eating grin. This smile is much colder .. much more sadistic.]
CLW: "In a few short days Jack, your road to UltraTitle Glory will end. But if Deacon's beliefs are true, and there is a God, your career will end. It will end for Kate ... For Allocca ... For Sarah ... and for ME
They say that kharma is a .
Well I'm Cameron Lee Waubash .. and I'm .. A .. BASTARD!"
[Sneering coldly, Waubash gets to his feet and forcefully kicks the stool out of camera shot as he storms away.]
(FADEIN: A medium close up on a backdrop with the Ultratitle imprinted on it. There is a podium set up directly center of camera. Stepping into frame, wearing her trademark emerald glasses and red skirt suit, is the tiny attorney, Mary-Lynn Mayweather. She pushed a small office chair to the side.
Mayweather set down a stack of papers and adjusted her glasses. She cleared her throat and began to speak into the microphone.)
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: My name is Mary-Lynn Mayweather. I was a student at the prestigious Odessa Wrestling Dungeon. I am now an assistant trainer under the tutelage of Mr. Jack Harmen and the company’s public relations department. Let me say on behalf of the Odessa company, we refute all claims made by Freddy Sagawa’s friend Cameron Lee Waubash. Our school has a 35 percent graduation rate, but those 35 percent of graduates have an 80 percent success rate of a career in wrestling. Over a dozen students have been in this business for five years or longer, including myself.
(Mayweather takes a moment to look at her notes. After a deep exhale, she decides to go off script.)
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: Listen, Cameron. I get it. You think my parents really liked my decision to become a pro wrestler? All they could think their little girl becoming another Kenny Rock or Syphon Fission or any of the other tragedies this sport has seen. They about spontaneously combusted when I told them where my rent money was going.
(Mayweather shook her head.)
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: But if your family truly loved you, they would support you in WHATEVER you are or do. That says to me it’s not that they disapprove you. They just don’t LIKE the person you are. The alcohol, the pain killers, the drugs, whatever, caused YOU to decide to be a DICK to them. And you’ve spent the past years pissed at your family for being pissed at you, when you should just sober up and figure out, hey, maybe it was ME who screwed up. Maybe I just manifested my own conflict and perpetuate it for fear of facing the fact that Mr. Cameron Lee Waubash, is not PERFECT. Just the way he is.
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: I bet you know how to ride a bike, right Mr. Waubash? And I’m sure as you learned, you fell a few times. But you picked yourself back up, and eventually, you mastered it. You CHANGED, you LEARNED and you became DIFFERENT. And THAT’S what it will take to solve your misguided family issues. Sit down with a therapist or a counselor and get to the root of your problem. For your own sake. Winning the Ultratitle with Freddy Sagawa isn’t going to fill that void you’re feeling. Please, get help. I’ve seen friends go through—
(The camera jostles off its tripod. CAMERA CUTS TO STATIC.)
(CUTTO: MULTIPLE BURSTS OF STATIC. CUTTO: Mary-Lynn Mayweather tied to the office chair with at least six feet of rope. Standing behind her is Jack Harmen, wearing all black and his “Superfly Express” t-shirt from New Frontier. He finishes gagging Mary-Lynn, and then KICKS her off stage.)
(DUTCH TILT ON an abandoned sound stage. Mary-Lynn Mayweather’s chair glides thirty feet before slowing to a halt. She struggles. In front of the podium set, Jack Harmen stands. The camera dollies on its dutch tilt until it reaches a medium close up.)
JACK HARMEN: MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER DOES NOT SPEAK FOR ME!
(Harmen turns around and kicks over the podium, causing it to buckle and collapse like something from ikea. Harmen spins back camera side.)
JACK HARMEN: See what I did to someone I LIKE? Imagine what I’ll do to someone who ANNOYS me. Listen, Waubash, steer clear of the conversation between two lunatics. Alright? I may understand a guy like Sagawa better than you can, cause I’ve been DYING for this. I’ve been CRAVING a bit of violence. I’ve been BORED of the Ultratitle. We may have had Anarky, but we haven’t had TRUE ANARCHY.
(Harmen smiles. He can’t help it.)
JACK HARMEN: I believe… I believed I was going to face the wrath of the seven foot man of God I blew up with dynamite, but instead, I get a chance to face one of the sickest deranged chaos-riddled mother frakers since ME. I get to step into that ring with a man that, if he weren’t HERE, in WRESTLING, would be in a white padded room.
JACK HARMEN: It’s like Christmas and the Super Bowl got together and had a BABY!
(Harmen hands the camera back to the single cameraman. There’s a bit of jostling, as Harmen begins to pace in the empty sound stage. His boots echo with every step.)
JACK HARMEN: Big W wants to sick Sagawa on me? Mr. Family issues gonna send his pet Rottweiler and not expect me to be carrying a brick of C4? No. I am NO prey Waubash and I WILL be the one doing the intimidating. Cause I’m a SANE Kochi Cannibal! But after all these years, I’m STILL just as crazy as ever! I’m still a Kamikaze Cannonball! I’m Mr. Sagawa plus twelve years of accolades and experience. That’s the legacy of the man they called High Flyer.
(Harmen sighs, lowering his head.)
JACK HARMEN: I know my career is shortly coming to an end. Yet when it began, I was called Reckless because I didn’t care to live to see tomorrow. Let me say I don’t care to live to see a day where I’m not competing in this squared circle. And you know what that means?
JACK HARMEN: I’m a TICKING TIMB BOMB! I’m HUMAN C4! Every day I have in that ring is a BLESSING and a CURSE. Every day could be my best or my last, or BOTH! So end my career all you want, because f*ck a whimper, I’m going out with a BANG! Be careful what you wish for Waubash, I might just take Sagawa out in the blast.
(Harmen smiles and raises his eye brows.)
JACK HARMEN: It’s a shame we got off on this wrong foot. I think we could have made beautiful chaos together.
(Harmen wipes away an imaginary tear.)
JACK HARMEN: But **** you Waubash and your family. I’m done with Mr. Pity Party.
(Harmen leans in closer to the camera.)
JACK HARMEN: Sagawa, you want to be your own man? You find me. I’ll do whatever I can to help you. It’s the least I can do as your older peer. As the veteran. As the man who will tame the unleashed Cannibal.
JACK HARMEN: Spoiler alert. I’m going to tell you how the match will begin. I’m going to extend my hand to Sagawa in a show of sportsmanship. Then, I’m going to slap Sagawa across his jaw. Because it’ll make things FUN!
(Harmen smiles. He’s almost shaking.)
JACK HARMEN: I haven’t been this excited since I cameoed in the ASYLUM. Cause I don’t care I don’t get mentioned in this corner of the globe with names like Windham or Melton. You ask any wrestling fan who’s the craziest and most unpredictable man in that squared circle? It’s STILL Jack Harmen. THAT’S all that matters! I CHOOSE to be crazy. I CHOOSE to give in, EVERY! SINGLE! TIME! … Because it FEELS SO DAMN GOOD!
(The Lunatic rubs his hands together.)
JACK HARMEN: When we step into that ring, you aren’t going to be facing Jack Harmen. You won’t be facing High Flyer. You won’t face Thirteen, FAKEPulse, or any of the other alias I’ve had throughout my storied career.
(XCU: Jack’s eyes.)
JACK HARMEN: You’ll face the LUNATIC!
(XCU: Harmen cracks a smile. Camera zooms out into a close up.)
JACK HARMEN: I don’t even know what I’ll do to win the Ultratitle… but I do know I’ll do ANYTHING.
(OVERHEAD LONG SHOT: Harmen walking away from the camera as we fade to black.)
(MULTIPLE BURSTS OF STATIC. CUTTO: Mary-Lynn Mayweather still tied to the chair. She loosens her gag and tilts her head back.)
(CUTTO: Exterior shot of Odessa Dungeon. A sign with the Odessa Dungeon's logo hangs above a thin doorway. It creaks as it sways back and forth.)
(CUTTO: BLACK VIDEO MATTE GFX : “One Legendary Wrestler.”)
ANNOUNCER(V.O.): What do you get when you cross a temperamental professional wrestler…
(CUTTO: Jack Harmen starring Ken Day down. Jack is wearing wrestling tights and Ken Day is panting heavily. They look to have just finished a work out.)
JACK HARMEN: Get the *CENSORED* out of here.
(CUTTO: BLACK VIDEO MATTE GFX : “8 Students.”)
(CUTTO: A wide shot of all eight of Jack Harmen’s current students lined up in what could only be described as a class photo. Our trainers, Mary-Lynn, Tony Davis, Derek Edwards, and Josh Klein surround them like book ends.)
(CUTTO: BLACK VIDEO MATTE GFX: “The Ultratitle.” A GFX of the Physical Ultratitle replaces this in all it's glory.)
ANNOUNCER(V.O.): … And the biggest prize in professional wrestling today?
(CUTTO: Jack Harmen paces in the ring.
CUTTO: Mary-Lynn Mayweather helping Ken Day lace his boots.
CUTTO: Jack Harmen smacking a younger eighteen year old student in the back of his head.
CUTTO: Derek Edwards and Josh Klein giving instructions to two aspiring trainees about “hot tags.”)
JACK HARMEN(V.O.) : I don’t mind helping you live your dream…
(CUTTO: Jack Harmen dressing down his students in the ring.)
JACK HARMEN: …But don’t get in the way of mine.
(CUTTO: Jack Harmen watching Ken Day bench pressing over three hundred pounds. He seems rather impressed. He nods to Day as Day continues benching.)
JACK HARMEN: You should lift heavy things professionally.
(CUTTO: Mary-Lynn Mayweather, wearing her trademark red skirt suit and emerald glasses, tapes her confessional.)
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: Jack's sacrificed a lot for his students.
(CUTTO: Jack Harmen in the middle of his wrestling ring, screaming.)
JACK HARMEN: I’m here on a SATURDAY PEOPLE! SATURDAY!
(Harmen shuffles and stomps his feet.)
(CUTTO: Derek Edwards in his confessional, wearing a golden monocle and a golden open vest.)
DEREK EDWARDS: Jack Harmen is a consummate professional--
(CUTTO: Jack Harmen screaming at a woman doing push ups.)
JACK HARMEN: You can shove a kid out of your *censored* but you can't do ten push ups?! Grow some *censored*-ing balls!
(CUTTO: Josh Klein in the confession booth. He wears a baggy tank top with a Pink Floyd "Dark side" logo.)
JOSH KLEIN: I wouldn't be where I am without Jack.
(CUTTO: Josh Klein instructing Ken Day. Jack walks over infuriated.)
JACK HARMEN: You're teaching it all wrong. Are you retarded? Don’t answer that.
(CUTTO: Ken Day taping his confessional.)
KEN DAY: Mr. Harmen has always been supportive.
(CUTTO: Ken Day locks in a submission hold. Harmen looks on and crosses his arms.)
JACK HARMEN: You couldn't even tie a pretzel! Do it right or I'm transferring you to our Janitorial Death Squad! I have the mop RIGHT THERE!
(CUTTO: Tony Davis in his confessional. He is busy playing his Nintendo DS, and doesn’t look up at the camera at all.)
CAMERAMAN: Uh. Mr. Davis?
TONY DAVIS: Hold up. I’m cross examining.
CAMERAMAN: Do you have any—
TONY DAVIS: LAWYERED!
(Davis jumps out of his chair and spikes his DS into the ground like a football. Davis looks down at the shattered pieces and realizes just exactly what he’s done. His bottom lip quivers, his eyes begin to water.)
CAMERAMAN: Any opinion on head trainer and you brother-in-law Jack Harmen?
TONY DAVIS: He’s a prick.
(CUTTO: Jack Harmen in the ring, holding a microphone. His trainers and students surround the ring like lumberjacks. Harmen wears his NFW “Superfly Express” t-shirt.)
JACK HARMEN: Now, you’ve all come here to achieve your dream of becoming a professional wrestler. But know that none of you will distract me from MY dream of winning the grandest prize in his sport, the ULTRATITLE. And when it’s sitting on that trophy shelf, you’ll have the privilege to stare at your reflection in its cup, and dare to dream to see your name carved in its plates.
(CUTTO: BLACK VIDEO MATTE “8 STUDENTS. 1 EGOMANIAC”)
ANNOUNCER: Will wrestling’s Friendly Neighborhood Lunatic put the well being of his students above his own? Or will Jack Harmen destroy his pupil’s futures for a shot at ever lasting glory?
(CUTTO: Tony Davis is currently juggling in front of the female student and a small 18 year old student.)
TONY DAVIS: It provides coordina—
(Jack Harmen walks up and smacks Tony’s hands, causing Tony to drop all that he juggles. Harmen stares daggers toward his brother-in-law and snarls.)
JACK HARMEN: We aren’t a circus.
ANNOUNCER: The Odessa Dungeon. Live this Spring on –
(CUTTO: A modified logo of the Odessa Dungeon, with High Flyer behind it. He has his arms crossed and they lay over top of the Odessa Dungeon’s logo.)
JACK HARMEN(V.O.): "I have won titles, sure. Shiny. I've had victories, I've fought wars, I've blah-bity blah blah blah... The point is that I am crap and you should underestimate me. I'm horrible. I've got this eye twitch, it totally ruins my depth perception..."
[And with those words we fade in, once again, to Cameron Lee Waubash. This time out, The
Beverly Hills Bastard is coming to us from an undisclosed location, a rough and tumble
looking stairwell somewhere .. well .. somewhere. With a trusty bottle of MacCutcheons
sitting by his side, Waubash is dressed in a pair of faded denim jeans and a white and
pink vertical striped long sleeve button down shirt.]
CLW: "I've never been the type of person to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I am
going to thank you for the psychobabble Miss Mayweather. But you'll have to excuse me if
I'm not going to be forthcoming with my insurance information, since in my non-
professional opinion, it was a load of poppycock.
Yes, I used the word poppycock."
[Waubash smirks as he undoes a button on his sleeve and rolls them up a little bit.]
CLW: "But the whole reason that I "came out" last time wasn't because I felt the
need to spend some time on a leather couch somewhere - honestly, it was never my
intentions at all. But as I thought about Jack Harmen .. I thought about my family and
everything that they have put me through .. the similarities were more than a little
And contrary to popular belief the issue is _not_ with me. It is with closed minded
imbeciles that are unable to accept that fact that some people .. like myself .. are not
destined to just simply fall in line. Some people march to the beat of their own drummer
and feel that it is their God given right to make decisions for themselves instead of
having it made for them.
_THAT_ is the issue with my family. I'm an outcast because well .. I never wanted a thing
to do with this business. And they may use my fondness for the bottle as an excuse, but my
mind was made up to go my own way looooong before I ever thought about raiding daddy's
[Reaching down, Waubash picks up the bottle of MacCutheons and shows it to the camera.]
CLW: "Nothing more than a scapegoat. A reason for him to say, I want nothing to do
with a son that won't allow me to live vicariously through him. And since Bradley and
Macey were just fine having someone else do their thinking .. they followed in suit, like
good little sheep. Sheep that are in line to get raped by the Shepherd.
And The UltraTitle is my way to make me the Shepherd and ultimately them in the
It's not some pathetic attempt to make daddy proud. It's not a cry out for belonging.
Because I have said many a time, I am happy with the man I am .. the man that I have
become .. eff .. tee .. dubbya."
[Having unscrewed the cap from the bottle while talking, Waubash pauses for a beat to
take a nice sip of his whiskey - accentuating the enjoyment with a nice sigh.]
CLW: "But this isn't going to be another vent session for the pleasure of Mary-Lynn
Mayweather. Because just like Jack Harmen didn't give a damn about what she had to say,
neither do it.
What I do care about is what Jack Harmen had to say, about how he is a sane lunatic. An
out of his mind psychopath that is perfectly right in his head. As little sense as this
makes, it is obviously nothing more than intimidation tactics. An attempt to make me
cower in fear - to make my knees knock and cause my to soil my knickers. And let's just
assume that your tactics did work .. you do know what happens when you make assumptions
You make an ass out of you and umption."
[Waubash snickers at his little bastardizing of the most annoying and overused line of
wit in modern history.]
CLW: "See Jack-o, the main issue here is that when we step into the arena in just a
days .. I'm not the one you're fighting. So intimidating me .. doesn't change a damn
thing about what your opponent - Freddie Sagawa - is going to do to _YOU_.
I mean lets be honest. What did you expect me to do? Go running in panic and completely
change up my gameplan? Because at the end of the day, I am just the mind .. he is the
body .. and you will not break _either_ of us.
Yes you "blew up" Deacon with some C4. But last I call, it was you staring at the
lights. Wasn't it?"
[A wink to the camera says that maybe a little bit of research was actually done .. or
gossip gets around the locker room.]
CLW: "No matter the case Jackie boy - I .. DON'T .. FEAR .. YOU."
[Waubash snaps his finger and the camera pans back a bit to take a little more of the
scene. As we cut back, a solitary and familiar wooden sign hands overhead. A sign we
have seen before that reads "The Odessa Wrestling Dungeon. But that is not all there is
to see, as sitting a few steps above Cameron Lee Waubash are "The Great White Predator"
Sharkey Schultz, and at the end of a choke collar is a rather sedate "Kochi Cannibal"
Freddie Sagawa. Hunched over with his hands resting on his knees, Sagawa is gnawing away
at some indistinguishable piece of meat.]
CLW: "Ya see Jack, I came to this .. this building .. for lack of a better term ..
to show that I have no issues stepping into your "yard." Consider it a symbolic way of
proving to everybody else that this isn't a game that can simply be won with words. What
we say here .. when talking to these cameras .. while they may play with the psyche ..
it's really nothing but a bunch of hype.
It is ACTION that truly cements our legacy. Know what I mean? And believe it or not,
Cameron Lee Waubash is about sooooo much more than flapping gums. I too can be a man of
[Reaching backwards over his shoulder, Cameron Lee Waubash takes a white handkerchief from
the foul-mouthed Irishman and douses it with a little bit of the MacCutcheons.]
CLW: "You talk about all the sacrifices that you have made in this game to get to
where you are today. To be a premier name in our sport .. to run a top notch wrestling
[Looking around at his surroundings, Waubash coughs out a ... ]
CLW: *cough* "Bull" *cough*
[... all the while sticking the whiskey soaked rag into the neck of a bottle.]
CLW: "And to think, it only takes three seconds for that all to just disappear ..
to .. go .. up .. in .. flames."
[And almost on cue, Waubash flicks his thumb on a Zippo lighter, as a flame begins to
dance in the air. The sight of the fire causes "The Kochi Cannibal" to drop his hunk of
meat and rock back and forth violently, emitting a sound that is somewhere between the
shriek of a banshee and the maniacal laugh of a motion picture psychopath. Smirking back
into the camera, Waubash gives a little wink - teasing the end of the alcohol laden rag
with the flame.
Glancing back over his shoulder, The Beverly Hills Bastard nods and Sharkey Schultz pulls
himself to his feet with the assistance of the handrail and forcefully drags a still
hysterical Freddie Sagawa out of shot by his choker chain.]
CLW: "Think about that my friend. Think about that."
[Moving his hand closer, the fire licks the edge of the rag and slowly it begins to
smolder - the flame growing larger as it feeds off the alcohol. The camera quickly moves
in on the face of a proud Cameron Lee Waubash, illuminated solely by the pyre.]
CLW: "I'll see you soon Jack."
[And giving an arrogant nod towards the camera, he tosses the flaming bottle of whiskey
out of the shot - turning and walking up the stairs as the smoke continues fill the air.
Arriving at the top of the stairs, he gives the door a shove and exits with a few parting
[The camera returns once again to a scene that was left just a few minutes before. At the bottom of a set of stairs sits a bottle of MacCutcheon's Whiskey, tipped over with a soaked rag hanging out of it - a trail of flame flickering across it.]
"I'm an asshole. I'm a villain. I am alot of things. But a petty criminal? I am not."
[And suddenly a trickle of water begins to pour down on the fire causing it to smolder a little bit.]
CLW: "This whole thing Jack was about symbolism. In just a few days time, your entire world as you know it is going to go up in flames. It is going to be destroyed. And everything that you have prided yourself on working so hard to achieve ... gone .. in an instant."
[The camera pans back a little more, rising further up the shot as the water continues to douse the flames.]
CLW: "But this here .. your Odessa Wrestling Dungeon isn't the time .. it isn't the place. The UltraTitle is.
With the help of my Kochi Cannibal, I intend on ruining you .. where it is all perfectly legal. You want no rules? Just say the words, and if the powers that be grant it - it'll be just another nail in your coffin.
Just like your words don't send my heart racing Jack .. No action could make Freddie Sagawa run and hide."
[Finally the camera fades back a little more and a censor bar is introduced into the shot - showing the source of the "water" that is putting the fire out."
CLW: "So name the game .. Seal your fate .. And just like this fire .. I'll piss all over your legacy.
There is a reason people are talking about others more than you Jack. And in just a few days time you'll realize why.
It's because you never stood a chance."
[Exaggerating a bit, Waubash shakes his hips (as the censor bar moves along) before taking his goods away. Laughing to himself amusedly, he walks out of the shot.
(FADEIN: The offices of the Odessa Wrestling Dungeon. Packed to the brim with bookcases and paper work, Jack Harmen and his brother-in-law Tony Davis are watching Waubash’s latest interview. Jack stands behind his desk wearing his old school Prime Straight jacket “Lunatic” baseball jersey open over his chest. He walks over to Tony Davis, who’s wearing a “Childish Gambino” home made t-shirt.
It’s a white Fruit of the Loom shirt with the word “Gambino” scrawled on it in sharpie.
Harmen frowns and smacks Davis in the back of his head.)
JACK HARMEN: Get the f*ck out of here.
TONY DAVIS: You used to find that hilarious.
(Reluctantly, Tony leaves the office. Harmen shakes his head and looks up to the security camera placed in the corner of his office.)
JACK HARMEN: My biggest concern right now is the lack of security at the Odessa Wrestling Dungeon. MARY!
(After a few moments, Mary-Lynn Mayweather peaks her head through the office door.)
JACK HARMEN: How exactly did Cameron Lee Waubash breach our security?
(Mary-Lynn frowns, looking away. As always, she’s wearing a trademark red skirt suit.)
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: Uh…. You fired all of our security after the lice outbreak of ’08. Plus you were the last one out of here yesterday… so…
JACK HARMEN: So?
(Mary-Lynn narrows her eyes.)
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: So… it’s your fault.
JACK HARMEN: Pretty sure it’s never my fault. Listen. I want to upgrade security ASAP. I want electrified door knobs. I want anti-gravity fields. I want three security guards fitted with adamantium claws ready to Wolverine the next poor sucker who steps through those doors off hours. And, if we can fashion it, please turn my snow creation machine into a device that shoots lightning.
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: Booby trapping your home or office to prevent break ins is technically illegal.
JACK HARMEN: Then why the f*ck didn’t they arrest Macaulay Culkin?
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: … That was a movie.
JACK HARMEN: Just get to it! Chop chop!
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: I could order a ten number coded security system with trip lasers.
JACK HARMEN: Do it.
(Mary nods, and exits the office. Harmen rolls his eyes.)
JACK HARMEN: So hard to find good henchmen these days.
(Harmen runs his hands through his hair and steps around his office desk. He takes a seat and rubs the bridge of his nose.)
JACK HARMEN: Cameron. (quickly)Cameron-Cameron-Cameron. (End quick speech) I thought I told you I was done listening to your pedantic tirades and your insuitably laughable insults? An ass out of you and umption? Really? That’s the BEST you can do? God you musta been on your fifth handle by the time you pretended to burn my gym down.
JACK HARMEN: Listen, disregarding the fact that you were obviously trespassing, you were clearly publically intoxicated and may as WELL committed Second Degree Arson…
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER(O.S.): THAT’S INCORRECT!
(Harmen growls, ignoring Mayweather.)
JACK HARMEN: You decided the best way to symbolically show the end of my vibrant career would be… what? To party foul on my concrete staircase with a homemade Molotov? GOOD JOB.
(Harmen gives Cameron a thumbs up.)
JACK HARMEN: That Jack Harmen, the man known as High Flyer, would one day die in a blaze is a fairly obviously assumption. I WILL die in a blaze of glory. But it will NOT be this week, this month, this YEAR! And when it DOES happen, I’ll be reborn like a phoenix. Stronger, smarter, and that much more dangerous.
(Harmen cracks his neck and stands from his desk.)
JACK HARMEN: But you and Sagawa do not decide when I supernova. But y’know Cameron, go ahead and try to ruin me. Better and worse men than you have tried. Cause even if my gym smolders to ash, even if my family treats me like a hooker on a street corner, I have the ONE thing that matters to me in this business. COMPETITION. Right in that squared circle. Oh. And the VIOLENCE. Can NOT forget the violence. Oh sweet sweet brutality.
(Harmen licks his lips.)
JACK HARMEN: You say actions speak louder than words, and yet, here you are, PRETENDING to burn my dungeon and then TALKING a big game about destroying me. Seriously? I mean, you should have just finished your little stunt with your fallen whisky comrade, burn this MOTHA FRAKER HOLE IN THE WALL DOWN.
(Harmen takes a deep inhale.)
JACK HARMEN: Listen, Waubash, you want to destroy me cause I remind you of your parents or something--I don’t know, it all stopped making sense when you started “WAH WAH WAH”-ing about poor little Cameron. But know that I want to destroy you because you are a modern day SLAVE owner. Keeping the fine if a bit unstable Freddy Sagawa on a LEASH, you’re playing a dangerous game. Cause Sagawa, like all lunatics, can NOT be contained by the sane. One day, Freddy will bite the hand that feeds him. And I can’t WAIT to see that day.
(Harmen shoves a bunch of papers off his desk, causing them to fall on the floor. Jack takes a seat on the edge of his desk.)
JACK HARMEN: So you want me to pick the stip? You really want me to make this a table match, a Japanese death match or a spin the wheel, make the deal match? Cause I’m going to swerve from the beaten path and choose an option YOU never envisioned.
JACK HARMEN: When I defeat Freddy Sagawa in round five of the Ultratitle tournament, you, Cameron Lee Waubash, are to have NO further contact with your rabid “weapon.” You will relinquish custody of your crazy slave into MY hands, where I will make sure that Sagawa’s unfiltered rage and violence is put to GOOD use. MY use. And over time, with some rehabilitation, perhaps Freddy Sagawa can one day go to a buffet and USE A FORK. My GOD man. What have you done to the kid? Just because you’re eating Soylent Green DOESN’T mean you can’t have TABLE MANNERS.
(Harmen smiles. He takes in a deep sigh.)
JACK HARMEN: And if Sagawa beats me?
JACK HARMEN: And that’s a BIG if.
JACK HARMEN: If Sagawa beats me, I’ll let you burn my gym to the ground. Hell, you can move in and set up shop if you like the place. Maybe recruit some traumatized twelve year olds to gnaw at raw meat while you overdose in a pile of your own vomit. I DON’T CARE. But I’m willing to put up this gymnasium and the name I’ve carved over a decade of running this joint to make SURE that Freddy Sagawa becomes a friendly, civilized, lunatic.
(Harmen holds his head high, and smiles.)
JACK HARMEN: A “Downtown Abbey” cannibal.
(Harmen stands, and leans into his security camera so he’s framed in a close up.)
JACK HARMEN: And Sagawa. If you’re listening, and you understand English or language in general, KNOW, there are better ways to live your life than chained and caged as Cameron Lee WAH-*****es personal A-Bomb. When you find yourself chained to a radiator after you failed Cameron and lost to me, remember my offer to help you. While you watch me take on guys like Eli or Castor or Melton in the finals of the Ultratitle tournament, know that it was a man like CAMERON that held you back from your glory. When you see me raise the biggest trophy this sport has ever seen high above my head, watch my name etched into infinite infamy upon the Ultratitle’s frame… You should know Freddy, I’ll still be here to help you.
JACK HARMEN: Cause we Lunatics gotta stick together, right?
(Harmen tilts his head back and cackles. His laughter echoes as the image fades to black.)
It has come to my attention that you do not choose to speak. I do not know if you can read, but it appears you are at the very least a deaf and mute individual. As such, I am dictating this written verbage to my attorney, Mary-Lynn Mayweather. What do you mean it isn't a word. It's totally a word! Verbage.
Fine. She is typing everything I say verbatim. Read that back to me. Can you edit out the parts where I sound like an idiot? Thanks. Let's go.
I am starting this blog for one simple reason. Communication with the man known to the wrestling world as Freddy Sagawa. It appears my verbal speech has failed me. A first in my life. So I must make my point known to the Kochi Cannibal in any way possible.
Freddy, you and I are a lot alike. I know I said that every round in this tournament. And yet, every person I said that too had a “but” placed after that statement. Not you Sagawa. You’re me twelve years ago. Young. Youthful. Vibrant. Hungry. And just a LITTLE bit psychotic. I don’t exactly know what set you off the deep end, some long forgotten personal tragedy or an incredibly introverted personality, whatever the case, know that you are now an adult. You can make yourself to be the man you want to be. Not the man others think you are.
If you’re crazy? That’s just a small personality flaw. If you’re shy? Get some self help books. If you’re a man who’s been raised by animals, you watch Walk Like a Man and you CURE YOURSELF.
Actually, that last one might make you more crazy. I mean. Howie Mandel acting? God, kill us all.
Instead, Cameron Lee Waubash has selfishly used you to advance his own career ignoring what is best for you. Sure, you can jump off of ladders and flaming steel cages and get hit by tanks and anti-aircraft missles till the cows come home for a cheap pop. Maybe you can wrap yourself in barbed wire and jump off the Empire State Building for bottom billing on Jackass 4. But that doesn’t make you a cerebral professional wrestler. That doesn't turn you into an athlete. That doesn't make you a man.
Just because you ingest Walter Matthew’s arm doesn’t mean you can host the nightly news. Just because you devour Michael Jackson’s eye doesn’t mean you can hit the high notes. And just because you plan to eat Barry Bonds’ face doesn’t mean you can hit sixty homers.
Hmmm… Maybe if he’s juicing.
The point is Freddy, there’s more to life than being a zombie and wrestling in blood fights. Hey, I love ‘em too, but I live the boring parts of life to make the violence feel more TRUE. It’s visceral, tearing apart another man before buying a few pints of water at 7-11 after the show. It connects you to the humanity you’re destroying.
And you understand why it needs to end.
Listen. I’m not gonna bore you with the specifics, but humanity? It sucks. You know it. I know it. That’s PROBABLY why you eat people. But there are WAYS to get back at the human race WITHOUT digesting their liver.
It’s called being a dick.
Let me know if you want lessons.
Nice, you indented it.
Signed Jack Harmen.
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