Fade in on one Alister Hayze, a big bruise on his forehead, seated in a metal folding chair before a NEW backdrop.
ALISTER HAYZE: You know, there’s been an awful lot of nasty things said as of late. I’m particularly talking about the words that have been exchanged between myself and the champ, and the men known as DREDD. There’s been a lot of big talk, a lot of it. And hey, you know what? I’ll be the first to admit it. Yeah, I’ve done my fair share. In fact, if you look back across this storied little career of mine, I think you’ll find that I’ve done more than my fair share. But hey, that’s me. That’s what I do.
And because it’s what I do…I don’t really feel the need to make excuses. I talk big. I talk REALLY big. Sometimes it means biting off more than I can chew. Sometimes it means I get beat. And this time, I got beat.
The champ knows that I’m out there working hard. The champ knows that I’ve got his back. The champ also knows that there isn’t anyone better than me when it comes to Marx’s dirty little word…
Wrestling.
I have apologized to Rabesque. He knows that this time around, his enemy is my enemy. He knows that I’ll pull out all the stops, I will do whatever I have to do to make sure that DREDD goes down. That they lose in the end. That’s where it matters.
And yeah, I can definitely see some of the irony in me calling the guys that pinned “losers.” I realize that some are going to try and take that statement and make me look like a liar or a hypocrite. I’m no such animal. Yes, I lost, just as they have lost in the past. The difference between them and me is that when I lose, I can see that it’s my own fault. I can admit that I talked a little too big, and that I didn’t bring enough bite to back up my bark. They, on the other hand, seem to think that the solution to losing is to get together with enough other losers that you can finally defeat those that have beaten you.
I lost. Period. But now I know that I have to go harder, and I’m not such a coward that I need to take someone else by the hand. That’s what WRESTLING is all about, Jonathan. That’s the difference between you, and yours truly. It’s the difference between a loser, and the next World Heavyweight champion.
Because even though Rabesque knows that DREDD is a common enemy…he also knows that he holds something that I want. He knows that if Marx and Doe decide to get in his face, I’ll be there to back him up. At the same time, he knows that I’m winning this tournament. He knows that I’m going all-out to beat Gordon at Rapture. He knows that it’s my life’s quest to hold that belt.
Above all else, he knows that he can trust me. And I’m telling him, now, that his trust can include the peace of mind in knowing that failure is no longer an option for me. Marx will never again pin me.
Now…Mr. Gordon O. Powell. We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we, Gordy? You’re Nazi fascist -- oops, I mean moral conservative…and I’m the no-good pinko hippie, and I’m gonna pay for it like those peaceniks at Kent State, and blah, blah, blah…
We’ve done all this before, Gop. This was already a big radio hit back in the day, and because of that, I’m sure we can all remember how it goes. I pin you, the ref says “One, two three,” and then I walk away the number one contender. Easy as whistlin’.
But now things are different, right? You have doubled your efforts in the war on terror, and you’re now certain that there’s some WMDs behind the bong in my van, and THIS TIME you’re coming straight for me, guns a-blazin’, THIS TIME, I don’t’ stand a chance. Is that right?
This time, I’m weaker, right? I’m “conforming,” simply because I got drugged and had my head shaved. I’m conforming because I’m helping a good man that needs it. I’m no longer the “free spirit” that everyone has always labeled me, just because my hair doesn’t go back my shoulders anymore. I’ve lost my edge, my gimmick, my smile. Politically speaking, I’m ripe for the chopping block.
The truth is, Gop, you’re right. I mean, I can definitely see why the public opinion would be turning against me. Without those gorgeous locks of mine, without that symbol of my hippie status, well, I’ve already lost the liberal leftist Commie vote. I’m no longer their man. And yes, you’re right, I am kinda friendly with “The Man,” with the biggest name in this promotion right now. That’s just adding respectability to my name, and Lord knows that hippies despise respectability. My biggest fans have gone right out the window.
He grows concerned, his brow furrowed as he considers what he’s saying.
HAYZE:And yeah, you’re right, I got beat. I’m looking more and more like a DREDD member and less like Alister Hayze! Oh my God, the fans are gonna riot! Public opinion of me has never been further down!!!
He freezes for a second, a look of panic on his face, which then melts back to his normal grin.
HAYZE: All of that would be right, except you’re forgetting one thing, Gordy. This ain’t politics. This is wrestling, my man, and there ain’t no one better at wrestling than me. When I walk out to the ring, I do it alone, and once I get there, I put on the greatest show on Earth. I kick ass, I take names. Me. Not the viewers at home. Not the pollsters. Me, all by my lonesome. That’s all I’ve ever needed.
You are a great political machine. Good for you. See if I care. Politics won’t beat me in the ring. Politics won’t give you a win over moi. Maybe you would run me into the ground should I ever decide to be a governor…but when it comes to this tournament…when it comes to the number one contender position…that spot is all mine.
Rabesque can stay in the back. I don’t him to win. Jeffords can stay in the back. He can’t save you. That spot is mine, Gordy, ‘cause I’m a god of wrestling, and you’re just a politician in tights.
Fade to black.
Woman’s V/O: This has been a 901 production.