Round 3: Jack Harmen vs. Troy Windham

[Chad]

Roleplay begins Sunday and ends next Sunday. 3 RP maximum.

You may submit a card segment for use on the card by private messaging it to the following usernames: Chad; Ford; User Poets Not all segments may be used (i.e. we might only include winners, just depends on the amount of craziness).

 

[GreggG]

(CUT TO: The interior of a Lear Jet. the camera slowly zooms in on the very back where, on a two-seat leather bench-style couch, sits TROY WINDHAM. Troy's tips are frosted as usual, tussled in that intentionally sloppy manner. He has on a $500 pair of Dolce & Govanna sunglasses and is wearing a black T-Shirt that reads THUNDER UP in sky blue -- the new playoff T-Shirt of the Oklahoma City Thunder, of which Troy just bought a 5% stake in. A champagne flute's positioned on a tray -- with appropriate sized holder -- to his right. Troy's reading the latest issue of Variety, with a headline about Captain America 2 on the cover. Troy continues to flip through the back pages of the magzines, perusing it, not even caring that a camera's on him. He finally puts it down, has a sip of his champagne, and tastes his lips. He then takes off his sunglasses and places them on the collar of his shirt.)

TROY: "Two up, two down, and an I don't know nor care amount to go."

(Troy takes another sip.)

TROY: "Now, one of my many agents informed me that my next opponent is a guy named Jack Harmen, who used to call himself High Flyer. It took me a while to place the name. It's difficult for me to keep track of every name in the business since I spend my time in first class accomodations and in private dressing rooms far, far away from the riff-raff and degenerates who populate professional wrestling. But, after I got his dossier sent to me on my third Blackberry -- I have one for Hollywood-related ventures, another I give out to the likes of Ryan Seacrest and Tiffany Amber-Thieseen and the other celebrities I call peers and friends, and then one for wrestling -- I now know who he is."

(Troy takes off the sunglasses and points them at the camera.)

TROY: "It's funny how things line up. My first round opponent, he was a boy pretending to be a wrestler. My second round opponent? He was a wrestler making a comeback, pretending like someone ever gave one sh*t about his existence on this planet. And now Harmen? He's a wrestler pretending to be some sort of icon. He's a wrestler pretending like he's on my level."

(Troy chuckles and then laughs.)

TROY: "Flyer -- let's be real for a second. One of my many, many agents sent me your interviews from the last round in which you bragged and boasted about all of your 'accomplishments.' As in 'I won the NFW National Title.' Well, Flyer -- I TOOK OVER NFW. That's the difference right there between you and I. An ant can jump over the bar you set for your career. Whereas me? I shoot the basketball with my off-hand because it's the only way to even out the competition. I write the record books. I sell out the arenas."

(Troy puts his glasses back on his shirt collar.)

TROY: "Jack Harmen? You're a wrestler. But me? Troy Windham? The Epitome? I DEFINE WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A WRESTLER."

(Troy smirks and takes a ship of champagne.)

TROY: "Now, Jack, I'm going to give you a little bit of advice. I don't usually do this for people but I"ll do it for you since you're on my payroll. You call yourself the friendly neighborhood lunatic. You fly all over the ring and crash through god knows what and will die to get ahead. You're a bit unhinged in the ring. Me? My whole success in the ring has been predicated on just finding a way to knock your opponent out for three quick seconds. And the only way you can do just that is by being in control of your mind. Of your emotions. And how do I do this? Well, a few years ago, I was getting drinks with my man Danny Masterson, currently starring on TBS' Men At Work, of which I've booked a guest spot. And he gave me a book called 'DIANETICS' written by L. Ron Hubbard. That book... it changed my life. It opened my eyes in a way to retain control. I became a Scientologist and, in fact, am my way out to Los Angeles as we speak to get audited. I've kept my beliefs secret until now but, as a way to cross The Bridge to Total Freedom and show that I am indeed a Superior Thetan, I'm here to spread the word. It's just a recommendation to you, Harmen, and to everyone else out there who wants to be a bit more like yours truly."

(Troy takes a sip of champagne.)

TROY: "Those beliefs are what makes me who I am. Like I've said before -- the Ultratitle will culminate my career. Holding that trophy above my head ensures that I am the Toppest of the Top Dogs in this industry. It's the final bullet point on my resume. I've won titles. I've sold out arenas. I've taken over promotion. I've won Cable Ace Awards -- and that's in PLURAL. I own 5% of the next NBA Champions youuuur Oklahoma City Thunder! And now... now I'll hold that trophy and place it on the mantle in one of my many, many, many mansions... and will be untouchable."

(Troy takes another sip of champagne.)

TROY: "And, at the same time, I'll make that Ultratitle MEAN something. Take a look at who has won it. Joey Melton? Doc Silver? Mikey Manson? Nova? Sure -- they're names in this sport, names that are certainly bigger than Jack Harmen. But are any of them named TROY WINDHAM? The Ultratitle has been held by the second string. And once I get it... once I get it, it's not just held by the team captain. It's not just held by the league MVP. It's not just held by a Hall of Famer. It's held by THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME. There's some Gold on the Cieling. And it's mine-oh-mine!"

(Troy puts the sunglasses on and picks up Variety. FTB)

 

[Ford]

(FADEIN: The Odessa Dungeon. The dank dark basement illuminated by two spotlights on either side. Numerous students are going through their training routines.

In the far corner, Josh Klein and Derek Edwards are instructing two students on the fundamentals of tag team wrestling.

Near the entrance, Mary-Lynn Mayweather is checking out Ken Day’s newest entrance attire, a shiny blue jacket with Randy Savage like strings hanging from the hems. Mayweather is all smiles in her trademark red skirt suit.)

KEN DAY: I dunno. Think it’s too garish?

MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: You’re a professional wrestler. Get used to garish.

(At the top of a staircase leading up to Jack Harmen’s office, Tony Davis is anxiously pounding on the door with his fist. He wears cargo pants and a Knight Rider t-shirt.)

TONY DAVIS: Jack! Jack! I got the tape! It’s hot off the presses!

(The office door opens. Jack Harmen steps out, eyes half open. He rubs the brim of his nose and sighs. He wears a lopsided blue hoodie over his classic CSWA t-shirt.)

JACK HARMEN: I told you to give me a call when it was on its way. Now I look like I just woke up.

(Jack opens his eyes and sees the...)

JACK HARMEN: Great. Cameras.

TONY DAVIS: I did call you! Your phone was off!

(Harmen frowns. He picks his cell out of his pocket. The screen displays “seven missed calls." All from Tony Davis. Flyer nods his head in realization.)

JACK HARMEN: Oh yeah. I set you with a silent ringer cause you’re constantly harassing me with non – emergencies.

(CUTTO: ARCHIVED FOOTAGE: Jack Harmen, in a supermarket, bagging his own groceries. “Pokerface” by Eric Cartman plays, as Harmen takes his cell out of his pocket.)

TONY DAVIS (O.S.): Dude, I just ate a watermelon seed. Does that mean I can’t drink water anymore?

(Harmen frowns.)

(CUTTO: ARCHIVED FOOTAGE: Jack Harmen is busying on a treadmill. “Rabbi E Tarentella” plays, as Jack Harmen answers his cell.)

JACK HARMEN: Tony!

TONY DAVIS(OS): Dude! You knew they made a Garfield movie?! Why didn’t you tell me?

(Harmen stops running on the treadmill and literally falls off.)

TONY DAVIS(OS): Find me a Blockbuster, STAT!

(CUTTO: ARCHIVED FOOTAGE: A hospital’s emergency wing. Jack Harmen is putting pressure on a severely bleeding forehead wound when his phone rings. Jack answers.)

JACK HARMEN: Ahoy hoy.

TONY DAVIS(OS): Dude. Are vampires real? I think vampires are real.

(Jack rolls his eyes. He looks over to his side and sees a young woman staring at him. She looks down at Harmen’s covered wound and licks her lips.)

(CUTTO: PRESENT DAY : The Odessa Dungeon. Tony Davis crosses his arms over his chest as he stares Harmen down.)

JACK HARMEN: That's just what I was able to record on tape.

TONY DAVIS: You never did say whether vampires are real.

(Harmen ignores Davis and walks to the center of the room. He presses a small button and a foghorn blares over the home made PA system. Annoyed, most of the trainees and trainers turn their attention to Jack. Tony however, has suddenly become entranced by the back of his own hand.)

JACK HARMEN: Alright. Gather ‘round peons!

(The students of Harmen’s academy take a seat in front of a projector. Jack paces along, casting a silhouette.)

JACK HARMEN: So this is promo 101. I’ll be playing a video from a rather well known wrestler, and I want you all to give me your best short succinct response! Alright let’s go.

(As Jack walks off to play the video, Mary-Lynn Mayweather leans in to Ken Day and whispers.)

MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: He just wants us to come up with some material he can steal.

(Mayweather smiles as Ken laughs.)


**TRANSITION: TEN MINUTES LATER**


(The video ends. Students and teachers alike talk amongst themselves in hushed silence. Jack Harmen, however, hasn’t moved since the video stopped playback. He may as well be a living statue. Mary-Lynn notices and walks to his side. She places her hand gently on his shoulder.)

MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: You alright?

(From behind, Ken Day raises his hand as if he were in a classroom.)

Ken Day: What if you called Troy Windham the offspring of a monkey and a platypus, with the social grace of watermelons bouncing on a trampoline?

(Harmen exhales. Frustrated, he walks off without another word. His office door SLAMS behind him. Tony Davis, meanwhile, is nodding his head in approval. He smiles and gives Ken a thumbs up.

Ken frowns, turning to Mary-Lynn Mayweather.)

KEN DAY: Was it something I said?

MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: Probably.

(CUTTO: Jack Harmen paces in his incredibly cramp office. He growls under his breath.)

JACK HARMEN: Mark Windham’s gonna get this TEETH kicked down his throat.

(Harmen looks directly up to the security mounted camera in the corner of his office. Behind him, we notice his cluttered desk and book shelf filled with fitness and psychology books.)

JACK HARMEN: Don’t worry TROY. I know who you are. But considering you don’t even have the decency to address me by MY given name, I figured I’d address you by your more TALENTED and IMPRESSIVE kin’s name. Fair enough? I don’t really care.

Listen Mark. If you bothered to follow the company that you own a fifty percent stake in, you’d know that I gave up the alias High Flyer almost a year ago. I would appreciate a modicum of respect when you address a fellow peer. Do NOT call me by that LIE.

(Harmen shakes his head, sighing.)

JACK HARMEN: Y’know. I got excited when the brackets came out. I figured if I made it to round 3, Troy Windham would be on the other side of that ring. We’d have a match that could sell out the WORLD. And I thought we’d have fun. I thought we could be amicable. I thought we might even see eye to eye. We’ve had similar careers, even if we have polar opposite personalities. We’ve both traveled the globe, had success everywhere we’ve been, and headlined some of the biggest shows in professional wrestling.

I thought you might view me as an equal.

(Harmen laughs, scoffing to himself.)

JACK HARMEN: But apparently you don’t view ANYONE as your equal. You’d meet God and tell him to carry your bags. You’d meet the devil and tell him to shove that pitchfork into his own eye. You’d meet Wrestling Jesus and tell him he’s just a wrestler pretending to be an icon.

(Jack winks.)

JACK HARMEN: Troy Windham thinks of himself as the alpha human, an elite superior athlete the likes of which the world has never seen before and will never see again. And yet, I have to ask. Why?

(Harmen shakes his head.)

JACK HARMEN: Cause Troy followed the coat tails of his brother, won the CSWA Unified Championship TWICE over the course of TEN years, and now wrestles TWICE A YEAR for New Frontier?

(Jack rushes toward the camera, climbing on a step ladder. He frames himself in an extreme close up.)

JACK HARMEN: I’ve won SEVEN world championships in SEVEN different promotions. I’ve ascended to the highest level EVERYWHERE I’ve been and the Ultratitle will NOT be the exception.

(Harmen shrugs.)

JACK HARMEN: And neither will NFW. Y’know, while you were busy at Supercrash III with your cadre of compatriots winning 50 % control in New Frontier, I was busy taking over 75 % of the show BY MYSELF. Just, because I could.

(CUTTO: )

JACK HARMEN (O.S.): Just for the LULZ.

(CUTTO: Jack Harmen, smiling inside his office.)

JACK HARMEN: And I had a BLAST. That’s all I’ve wanted in my wrestling career these past few years. I've had my success, I've had my titles. Shiny. I don't need to add to my legacy. But the Ultratitle... I actually WANT to win. Either way, every day in that ring to me is a JOY. Every match I get to have is like a trip to Six Flags riding Bizarro while Alison Brie rides me. I feel ALIVE in that ring. You MARK, I think you feel more alive OUT of the ring.

(Harmen backs away, shrugging.)

JACK HARMEN: And I get that. Hanging out with Jew-Fro from the 70’s Show and midget Joel McHale would probably impress a lot of people. Chatting up the girl from FASTLANE on a Saturday night, kudos Troy. Nice pull. Fifteen years ago. That’s about how long ago you “defined” what it is to be a wrestler, isn’t it Troy? Just about the last time you were truly relevant? Now look at you Troy. You’re not a wrestler. You’ve had, what, three matches in the past two years or something. You’re just one coke binge away from becoming another C list celebrity going on the not for broadcast sixth season of Celebrity Rehab.

So go watch the Oklahoma Supersonics from your penthouse balcony. I’ll be wrestling every night I can against some of the greatest names in wrestling you’ve never heard of. It’s not your fault you aren't aware of legends like Alias, Superstar Vince Jacobs or HIGH FLYER. I’m sure Danny Masterson takes up a lot of your time.

(Harmen opens the door to his office and goes to exit. A beat. Jack re-enters the room. He looks directly into the camera.)

JACK HARMEN: Oh good luck with your film career. Playing a barista or a mechanic on TBS’s Men at Work. I’m sure that’ll be your big break. Hey! Maybe you can win another Cable Ace award? Whatever THAT is.

(Harmen exits, shutting the door behind him. FADEOUT.)

 

[GreggG]

(CUT TO: The Elevate Nightclub, downtown Los Angeles. A DJ with half his head shaved and the other half to his shoulders is behind a series of turntables and laptop computers playing "House Chillwave" dance music. The guys at the club look like Jersey Shore types -- gelled hair, bad tans, Ed Hardy shirts, etc. The girls look like your typical Southern California girls shopping for a reality TV show deal -- a lot of blondes, a lot of tans, a lot of day-glo tube tops and skirts which barely conceal thong underwear. CUT TO: A back private lounge. A cocktail waitress obscures the screen as she places a bottle of Krug Clos Du Mensil 1995 champagne in an ice bucket. But she leaves to reveal TROY WINDHAM. Troy's hair has received its daily frosting and is intentionally messy. He's wearing his $500 D&G brown-tinted sunglasses and a black T-Shirt that reads THUNDER UP in sky blue, with his trademark khaki slacks.)

TROY: "It's been a busy few days for yours truly. Last week, I was at the skybox in OKC watching my Thunder -- the team I owe a 5% minority stake in -- pull of a comeback for the ages against those dullards from San Antonio and make it to the NBA Finals. Post-game, I hit up Bricktown and spent all night chillin' with my boy ROYAL IVEY and partying down like OKC's never seen before. And then I came to this. (Troy rolls his eyes.) Downtown LA's a lot better than it was a few years back when it was pretty much a third world slum. But man... this place is BEAT. But it's cool -- because this is a paying gig. Me and Danny Masterson and the rest of the cast from the hottest show on TBS today MEN AT WORK are here for some promotional work. I got in a little early and figured I'd use the camera here to make the most of my time wisely."

(Troy smirks.)

TROY: "So, Flyboy Jack Harmen -- even though I'm a busy man, I've been a busy man my whole professional career. I know how to make the most of my time wisely. One of my many, many, many agents got me a bunch of your matches for me to study. One of my many, many, many physical trainers reserved for me some gym time and got me hooked up with some sparring partners out here. And one of my many, many, many personal assistants got me my new iPad to watch your promo. And when I mean new iPad, I mean that I buy a new iPad EVERY DAY. But you know these things always have bugs in them, so we needed to test it to make sure it worked."

(Troy smiles.)

TROY: "It works fine, especially the fast-forward function. And that came in handy when I fast-forwarded through the first 45 minutes of that jibberish you sent in before you got to the important stuff... namely, me. So, let me address a few of your points before my boys come in."

(Troy adjusts his neck.)

TROY: "You mentioned my extra-curricular activities and how they excite me more than what happens in the ring. Let me congratulate you on your accuracy. You see, Flyer, I'm the first wrestler to ever see this as a business and classify himself as a businessman. I'm the first person in this industry to consider himself a BRAND. And I did that for a reason -- because there's a LOT more to the world than the squared circle and there's a LOT more money to be made than professional wrestling. I make TENS OF THOUSANDS of dollars for supporting roles like the one I got on Men At Work. I makes TENS OF THOUSANDS doing voice-over work for Arthur Treacher's Fish-and-Chips. I make TENS OF THOUSANDS of dollars showing up to nightclubs and other personal appearances. And I make all of this money without getting thrown on my injured neck. I make all of this money without getting hit with a television monitor and then thrown through a table. I make all of this money without some 200 pound man flying off the top rope onto my prone body. I make money without getting hurt. I'm 38 years old and I don't have all the time in the world left as a wrestler. But I've got, what, another 40-45 years left to live after that? I don't want to spend my life in a wheelchair."

(Troy pours himself some champagne.)

TROY: "But I don't need the money. Heh -- I haven't needed the money since my fourth year in this industry. But what I crave... what I *NEED*... is the SPOTLIGHT. I need to have my name on that marquee. I need to have my name put on the Preview Guide. I need to have my name chanted. I don't care if I get booed or if I get cheered. I've gotten both and neither matters as long as they say it. And I *NEED* them to say it. I've said since Day 1 that I am THE EPITOME of professional wrestling. Those are big words and I back it up every single time. Ask around, Flyer, and you'll know the reputation. I am the biggest money player in this industry. I am the biggest main event wrestler in this industry. Absolutely no one delivers when the lights are on them like I do. It's been my goal since the first day I became a wrestler to be known as the greatest of all time. I've already cemented that reputation. But now I'm trying to lap the field and set the bar so high that it will NEVER be touched. And winning The Ultratitle means just that."

(Troy takes a sip of champagne.)

TROY: "Now, Flyguy, you compared your title reigns to mine. And that's fine and good, but all titles mean to me is that one of my many, many, many personal assistants has 20 more pounds to lug around when he carries my bags for me. The only time I've needed and wanted titles is to get that aforementioned spotlight. But I've always found that people who need to flex their d*ck muscles by bragging about belts are overcompensating for not being someone like me. Winning titles may impress a bunch of idiot marks and may make it a little easier for you to look in the mirror. When I win titles, they MEAN something. I make them WORTH something, just as I will this Ultratitle. But when you and people at your lesser level win titles? You take away that worth. And when you're defending the title, I'm in the main event. And being the main event and The Epitome... that matters a whole lot more in the grand scheme of life."

(Troy takes another sip.)

TROY: "Now, as far as your status as a legend and the names of all the other people you've namedropped? I'm not going to apologize for not knowing who you or any of those people are. But let me ask you this -- what have you people done to make me know who you are? And don't you dare come out here and say that 'oh, you don't matter to us' because you've been eyeing me up like the $85 piece of ribeye I eat with ostrich eggs every morning since these brackets got announced. In NFW, when I was busy taking over this league, did you stage any attacks on me? Poison me with chloroform? Hide out as a security guard to break a chair over my head? Recruit any of the aforementioned no-names to invade the invaders? No, you haven't. And why not? Because you and your gang are content on crying about how people like me don't give one sh*t about you despite your alleged spot as a legend. You're content with what you have. Me? I've never been content in my entire career. And that's why I'm winning that title and you're only in the round of 32."

(Troy puts down the glass.)

TROY: "Now, you mentioned me dabbling in nose candy. And, yes, I've gone through some addiction issues in my past. But I no longer use cocaine or any drugs, other than the occassional sip of alcohol, because I've learned the self-control which can only come from someone who has gone through the self-discovery process that is Scientology. And, yes, winning that title will also give me the bully pulpit to spread the word about the benefits of emotional auditing. Maybe, Flyer... maybe you should consider visiting the Center?"

(Troy takes another sip.)

TROY: "But we can talk about that after the show, when you're no-doubt asking for my autographed head shot. But for now, Flyer, all I'm thinking about is that Gold on the Ceiling. And it's mine-ohhhhh-mine."

(FTB)

 

[Ford]

(FADE IN: Sunny Los Angeles, California. An exterior establishing shot of the Church of Scientology located directly on Sunset Blvd.)

(CUTTO: Jack Harmen, chewing on a tooth pick steps through the entrance doors. He’s wearing a “Who Watches the Watchmen” crew hoodie and blue jeans.

Inside the lobby, two bookshelves line opposite walls filled with Scientology books. A large reception area in the back corner includes cut-out displays of L. Ron Hubbard. Jack Harmen surveys the room and frowns when an older gentleman with grey hair walks up.)

OLDER MAN: Hello there! Might I ask the purpose of your visit to the Church?

(Harmen doesn’t make eye contact, taking in his surroundings. He notices a small back room with large office desks.)

JACK HARMEN: Uh yeah. I’m interested in knowing my own personality.

(The older man smiles and leads Harmen to the reception desk.)

OLDER MAN: Well you think you have thirty minutes to spare?

(Harmen smiles.)

JACK HARMEN: I’d say so.

(The older man nods.)

OLDER MAN: Now I’ll have to ask for the camera to be shut off. Please. Respect of privacy.

JACK HARMEN: Really? I just wanted to prove to Troy Windham I actually went—

(The cameraman hesitates, but lowers his camera. A moment later we CUTTO: STATIC.)

(FADEIN: SUPERIMPOSED TEXT “2 Hours Later.”

Jack Harmen walks out of the entrance of the Scientology building. He rubs his eyes and places on perfectly circular lens sunglasses. He shakes his head.)

JACK HARMEN: Wow.

(Harmen runs his hands through his hair, leaning back and taking in a deep breath.)

JACK HARMEN: I just spent the last hour talking about my dead dad and my divorce. For an organization that detests psychology, they sure acted like a therapist in there.

(Harmen laughs.)

JACK HARMEN: I gotta wonder what Troy blathered on about. “Oh, I’m not on the cover of Entertainment Weekly.” “Variety said ‘Men at Work’ was the sitcom equivalent of empty calories.” “My iPad budget is just getting out of hand these days…”

Y’know Troy, maybe I should invest in some emotional auditing. I’ve tried religions before, tried therapy. I’ve remained just as crazy as ever. There’s gotta be a reason. It couldn’t be because I have so much fun causing chaos and anarchy. Which is actually the EXACT reason I didn’t lift a finger to stop you from taking over NFW. I liked your little stunt. I found it amusing. Why mess with a good thing? I like NFW, but if the place implodes from the inside, at least I’ll get to watch the city Craig Miles help build, burn. A front row seat to that is a once in a lifetime show I wouldn’t dare miss.

(Harmen cracks his neck.)

JACK HARMEN: Just like I wouldn’t miss a chance to get in the ring with Troy Windham. I’ll be honest. I love this sport. I’m as much a fan of it as anything else. I’ve respected you as an athlete and professional since the day I saw tape on you. A smart cunning athlete that could test and push me beyond my very limits. I’d be LYING if I said I didn’t want to get a change to face you. Cause you’re GOOD. I will GLADLY accept the challenge of kicking your head clean off your spine.

(Harmen frowns.)

JACK HARMEN: I mean, if I just wanted to win, I could take your chloroform suggestion into the ring and beat you that way. But you gotta go with your instincts. My locomotive boot knocking that chip you call a head off your shoulder would be way more satisfying.

(Harmen stops in his tracks. He pulls out a tape recorder from his pocket.)

JACK HARMEN: Note to self, consider using chloroform to win a match if desperate.

(Harmen hits stop on his recorder and returns it to his pockets. He continues to walk.)

JACK HARMEN: I’m sure the mighty Troy Windham would no doubt have an assistant telling another assistant to write that down for him. But I don’t spend my money on extravagance. Substance over style, always been my motto. Cause I could go out and make money doing the Hollywood thing. I’ve been on tv shows and done the voice over monster on a kids show. It’s fun, but it’s not my PASSION.

I LOVE professional wrestling Troy. When I’m 42, I want to be in that squared circle, whether it’s in front of twenty people in a bingo hall or a hundred thousand at the Toyko Dome. I want to raise highest prize that promotion has high and let my heart give out in a moment of pure joy.

That’s the way I want to die.

(Harmen kicks a rock as he walks.)

JACK HARMEN: You Troy. You’d rather die on the red carpet. Get shot on the set of Crow 5. You’d rather die watching yourself on TBS quip with the guy who got flayed alive on Buffy. You’re passionate about your brand but you’re not JUST about professional wrestling anymore. You don’t NEED to win the Ultratitle to cement your career, nor do you even need wrestling anymore. So why risk it? To prove something? To hold a trophy high and tell a hundred other guys they suck?

(Jack stops at a crosswalk.)

JACK HARMEN: You said it yourself. You can have your spotlight and your money and your fame away from the dangerous squared circle. Far from people who enjoy randomly blind siding someone with a fish tank or lighting people on fire. Far from the proud degenerates. Far from guys like me. Far from guys like Melton and Silver and Nova, the second string if I were to use your words.

I just don’t get why you want to risk your pretty Hollywood face on a meaningless trophy held by a bunch of worthless lesser thans? Just to make the trophy worth more than it does now? Just because you think it'd be fun?

Is this supposedly meaningless trophy held by the riff-raffs of the wrestling world really worth missing out on being cast as Fred in Scooby Doo 3? To lose the chance to play the Fonz on Happy Days : The Next Generation all because of a broken jaw?

Whatever happens Troy, know I'm gonna break your face. Just 'cause it AMUSES me. And every time you have to spend an extra three hours in that make up chair, you're gonna remember the name Jack Harmen. All ‘cause I kicked your nasal bone into your brain.

(Harmen steps off the corner as the lights change and walks across the street. The cameraman stays behind, watching him walk off. Harmen turns around as he gets to the other side. He shouts.)

JACK HARMEN: Then maybe you won’t be such a dick!

(Harmen turns back around and puts up his hoodie. FADE OUT.)

 

[Ford]

(FADEIN: The arena parking lot. Jack Harmen pulls through security, showing his Ultratitle ID badge. After a moment, he’s ushered into a private talent parking station.

Harmen parks his classic Chevy Lebaron and slams the door shut behind him. He cracks his neck from side to side. After a moment, Harmen takes in the arena with quiet reverence.)

JACK HARMEN: The historical first meeting of the Epitome of Wrestling and the Friendly Neighborhood Lunatic. This date’ll forever go down in the annuals of history as the day two icons from separate circles finally meet after dominating their respective home bases for decades.

And Troy, I know you won’t consider this much more than another run of the mill match. You don’t view Harmen/Windham as anything. I get it. Hard to show respect for others when you respect only yourself. I know you think facing me is just like facing Cameron Cruise or Jeff Andrews or any of the other plethora of athletes you’ve dismissed as not “being Windham enough.”

(Harmen pulls out a cigarette and lights up. He lets out a deep exhale.)

JACK HARMEN: Troy may not be nervous, but I sure as hell am. I want to make sure we tear that house down. I’m expecting to send every fan home happy even if the only match they get to see is the two of us beating the crap out of one another.

(Harmen adjusts a backpack over his shoulder and makes his way down the parking lot. Other wrestlers have already arrived. Harmen notices Chris Sheppard ushering Deacon inside. Harmen notices Freddie Sagawa’s car as ash from his cigarette falls on it’s trunk. Harmen heads to the entrance.)

JACK HARMEN: And don’t get me wrong. I plan on making sure I decapitate Troy Windham with my locomotive. I just mean, if Windham and I have a match of the year candidate? I’ll consider my Ultratitle run a success.

(Harmen scoffs.)

JACK HARMEN: Of course, that should be easy. That should be expected. If I win and the match SUCKS because Troy doesn’t care, well, that will STILL be a disappointment.

(Harmen takes a puff on his cigarette.)

JACK HARMEN: Then again, considering how much Troy talks up his own accomplishments and abilities, and all the times he’s backed that up in the ring, I shouldn’t have to worry. I know I can hang move for move, hold for hold with Mr. Epitome. I’m putting everything I have out there in that ring tonight. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it to Round 4… And I’m sure I won’t let Troy make it to Round 4.

Cause the finish can come out of nowhere. Troy’s built a career of hitting Slackknife out of nowhere. I only need one opening to run Troy over with my Locomotive. So really, it comes down to who makes the first mistake.

(Harmen hesitates before opening the entrance door to backstage. He tosses his cigarette on the ground after only have a few drags.)

JACK HARMEN: Win or lose, Troy Windham’s Ultratitle dream ends tonight. Because I plan on PERFECTION. And barring that? I plan on BITTER MALICIOUS VENGEANCE.

(Harmen cups his hands over his mouth to scream.)

JACK HARMEN: ALLLLL ABOOOOOOOOAAAARD the 10:14 locomotive! Final destination? TROY WINDHAM’S FACE!

(Harmen enters the arena. The door closes behind him. FADE OUT.)

 

[GreggG]

(CUT TO: Troy Windham, now on the top floor of a luxury hotel suite. The carpets are plaid. He's sitting in a high-backed red leather chair, wearing his D&G sunglasses and a blue T-Shirt with an outline of James Harden's beard that says 'FEAR THE BEARD' in retro cursive white. His champagne flute sits next to him.)

TROY: "Flyer, once again you are proving the difference between yours truly and yourself. You're proving to everyone why *I* am at a level that has never been reached in the annals of professional wrestling HISTORY and why you're... you're lucky to be considered one of the Top 32 wrestlers alive."

(Troy takes a sip.)

TROY: "I like that excuse, Flyboy. I like it a lot. 'I'm standing by, entertained, as I watch Rome burn.' That's what you said about the takeover/coup attempt I led in New Frontier Wrestling. You're standing by, entertained. Son, please. Do you know what would happen if the roles were reversed, Flyer? If you led some ragtag group of outcasts to take over a league I was a member of? Do you think I'd stand by? No, I wouldn't. Instead, I'd scheme and calculate and find a way to hijack your angle, steal your heat and end up in the main event. I don't stand by, entertained. I don't watch from afar. I see an opening and I take it and OWN things. So, I'm glad I entertain you. But that's why I'm the guy whose signature matters... and why you're the guy feuding with people whose names I don't even know in the league I happen to co-run."

(Troy cranks his neck.)

TROY: "Now, harping on my award-winning acting career has been a time tested strategy of my opponents for close to two decades now. It couldn't be more cliche. It couldn't be more expected. Do I enjoy the Hollywood lifestyle? Well, just look around. I don't stand in general admission. I don't sleep in queen sized beds. I don't unfold streetmaps. I have skyboxes with my own private bar and sushi chef. I stay in five-star accommodations where the manager -- not the bell-boy, the MANAGER -- carries my bags and fluffs my pillow. And I have a stretch limo waiting for me with a personal driver employed to drive me around to wherever it is I need to go."

(Troy smirks.)

TROY: "I like this. I like having all of this. I intend to have all of this for the rest of my life. That's why I'm not some short-sighted idiot who spends his whole life rolling around on some STD-infected mat hoping to entertain the 350 people in Youngstown, Ohio who took their monthly slot machine money and instead decided to buy a rasslin' ticket. I found another career as a way to pad my bank account... a career in Hollywood that also allows me to have agents, managers and personal assistants and models and reality TV stars and aspiring improv comics at my sexual beck and call. And check the backtapes, Harmen -- this isn't a NEW thing for me. Way back when I was 20 years old, getting my foot wet in the CSWA, I told everyone that this is what I wanted and that this is what I one day would have. And I have it."

(Troy then cracks his neck.)

TROY: "But I always come back to the ring. And it's for a simple reason -- I'm the best in the world at professional wrestling. There's absolutely zero people alive better than me in this industry. Do I spend as much time in the gym as you? Probably not. Do I watch 853,002 hours of Japan All-Star World Lucha Champions Cup? Nope. But what I do, and what I have mastered, is the ability to adapt and adjust to any style of wrestling. Smaller than me? I'll outpower you. Bigger than me? I'll outquick you. And why's that? Because I'm *SMARTER* than everyone who has ever been in that ring. I have ten, maybe 12, moves in my arsenal. They aren't much. But I do them better than anyone else has ever done them. And my finisher? The Slackknife? The greatest finisher of all-time? So simple in its application. So devastating in its impact. And that's why I am the best big-game performer in the world today. Game 7? I throw perfect games every single time."

(Troy takes a sip of champagne.)

TROY: "But you acting as if I won't die in the ring? Well, no, I don't want to die. I'd like to be a functioning human being well after this is all said and done. But if those lights are on me... when that spotlight's on me... I *HAVE* to win. There's no other options for me. NONE. And I win every single time."

(Troy stares at the camera. He then cracks his neck and turns to the camera. A scar runs down the middle of his neck.)

TROY: "You think that doesn't take a toll, Flyer? I've had a few of my vertebrae fused together. I've had doctors tell me that one wrong fall... one hard landing... and I might not walk ever again. So, Flyer, you can take that smug little attitude you and every other moron who 'would do anything for this sport' have always had towards me. I've sacrificed my body to be where I'm at. I've sacrificed my health to be where I'm at. I don't HAVE to do this. I can go on that red carpet anytime I want. But I come out here because I NEED TO WIN. I NEED TO SET THE BAR. Whereas all you need... is to wrestle."

(Troy returns to his chair.)

TROY: "Like I've said before -- I'm here for two reasons. The first... is that by winning The Ultratitle, I will have lapped the field. I have already cemented myself as the greatest of all time. After this win, my legacy and career will be UNTOUCHABLE. No one will ever be able to touch my already untouchable resume. And the Ultratitle? A belt held by people nowhere near as good as me? Well, the next time someone wins it... they can say they won the title that I MADE IMPORTANT. There's GOLD ON THAT CEILING! And it's mine... ohhhh... minnnnne!"

(Troy takes a sip. FTB.)