No Excuses
[updated:LAST EDITED ON May-28-03 AT 07:32 PM (EST)](FADEIN to the balconey of a hotel room somewhere in the Columbus, Ohio region. Anarky is leaning over the railing, watching some teenage boys and girls flirt near the pool. He has a lit cigarette in his hand, and he takes a long, slow drag and exhales into the night air as he watches them.)
ANARKY: "What does this mean? The cigarette... the hotel... the teenage girls. How does it add up? What can we conclude from this? More important... what can we use from our conclusion? In what way can we exploit it? Am I a pervert? A degenerate? Or am I weak because I smoke every once in awhile? Will it hold me back? Is that the tiny thing that prevents me from earning a title shot? From being the last man standing? What is it this time? What will you use against me?"
(He smiles and takes a final drag from his cigarette, flicking it into some nearby bushes. The teenagers continue to flirt in and out of the pool, even though they probably shouldn't be.)
ANARKY: "You see... as much as I try to explain myself... as much as I try to rationalize this... you will fail to understand. Even if I could make you see my way, you would never admit it. You would stand adamantly. You would pick and choose what you heard, just like always. I could come here, and bring out a book on physics, and I could show you that the sky is blue because of certain wavelengths, and you could refute it. You would tell me that, because I use a book, I'm not smart enough. You would tell me that my entire conclusion was based upon false presumptions. You would convince me that the sky is green, not because it is, but because you would rather spend an eternity arguing a mindless point than admit that you were wrong.
"So now what? What're you going to tell me now? Is Cannonball Kidd, of all people, going to tell me to stop using faux philosophy? Is Michael Manson going to tell me that I'm nothing without him? That my entire career has been eclipsed by his? Nevermind that I've done more than he could ever dream... and I did it in places that mattered. I didn't have to conquer backwater leagues. I didn't need the false worship of peons and peasants. I never needed it. Because I'm not like you, Manson. Oh, I may break the rules, and I may spit venom when I so choose, and I may even listen to the same dark and frustrated music that you do... but the very thing that separates us is the very reason we do this. For me... I do it for the pure joy of it. The muffled cries of pain and the tears and the blood. Not for the joy or glory of battle. Nothing so... complex. No... I am a simple man, Manson. Maybe I can spell it out for you: the more I make you hurt, the more at peace I am. And the longer I go without that... the more unstable I become. The more I need it. It is, like all great addictions... completely out of control.
"But you'll just turn it around, right? You'll throw Maelstrom's name at me. You'll pretend that we're the same because it's convenient. Because it backs up a point you need to make to be right. And that's what this is really all about, right? Who's right and who's wrong? One big game of I Told You So? Are you winning, Mikey? Is your Illusionary Belt still around your waist? Still the People's Champion?"
(He sighs and shakes his head, lighting up another cigarette. The teenagers leave, perhaps to go back to their rooms and... but who knows. Anarky just stands and watches the ripples of the empty pool.)
ANARKY: "Yet I have been unfair. Ignoring most of you. Especially those of you who have just jumped into the fray. Jobber, I find it... amusing... that you, not so unlike Jean Rabesque, resort to semantics when it comes to me. More excuses, hm? No, I did not PIN you, Jobber. But I never needed to pin you. That was not part of the game. You are a completely disgrace to this sport, and you always have been. My only goal was to embarrass you. My only goal was to show the whole world that Jobber and Maxwell Houz were JOKES... not WRESTLERS. And I did that. And I didn't have to pin you to do it. And I won't have to do it this time, either. And the real beauty of it.... is taht you'll still have your excuse. If my hand is raised, and you're the one standing on the outside, you can always say... at least you didn't pin me. You can have your excuse, Jobber. Because that's all you'll ever have.
"As for you, Nemesis... I don't even owe you an explanation. You, who suddenly decides he cares, and what is the first thing you present us with? An excuse for your absence. Excuses, Nemesis, are a dime a dozen. It's easy to rip apart my arguments when you don't have any yourself. It's even easier to miss my point entirely and simply point out the juxtaposition of my promos. Am I supposed to be impressed that you have some kind of pattern recognition, Nemesis? Am I supposed to extend my hand in respect? No, Nemesis... you don't earn respect by sitting around and criticizing others. You earn it by showing up in the goddamned ring and showing me what you've got. And you haven't done it yet, so I would advise you to keep your mouth shut for the remainder of our time here."
(He finishes his cigarette and walks inside for a moment. After a few seconds, he comes back out, carrying a decrepit wrestling title. The letters "EWC" are scawled on the front of it on some kind of fake gold, perhaps tin. The belt has seen better days and is hardly held together at all.)
ANARKY: "I keep this to remind me. I keep this worthless piece of tin and leather... because this was the first. This was my first taste of glory... my first taste of being a champion. The fans screaming my name... buying my t-shirts. Everyone wanted to be a part of me. This was before anyone knew me. I was a nobody who turned into a somebody. And it felt... real. It felt good.
"But like all good things... it fades. It's an addiction for me. If it isn't the drugs, it's the violence. If it isn't the violence, it's the hate. And so the cycle continues. So I will never be free. And you say you want to help me? You say you want to show me the light? But I've been down that road before. I've walked your path and it doesn't have anything I haven't seen before. It doesn't... have anything... at all."
(He drops the title and his eyes gaze off into the distance, lost for a second. He looks back to the camera, the viciousness returning finally.)
ANARKY: "If I say that I'm a monster... you will call me a fool. If I say that I am dangerous... you will laugh in my face. If I say that I'm smarter than you, you'll show me test results that prove otherwise. In fact... there's really nothing I can say at all. It fall fails... and it all means nothing.
"And so the battle rages on. I have no excuses. I have nothing to prove, and even less to say now. You believe what you must. And I will do what I can. And in the end, only one will remain.
"Chaos... reigns... supreme."
(FADEOUT.)