AGGRESSION 64: Impulse (c)/Mahogany (c)/Dragons (cc) vs. Stalker/Anarky/Rezin/Winters

[DBrunkGXW]

8-Man Tag.

First pinfall ends match. If a champion is pinned or submitted, the title changes hands.

SPECIAL RP NOTE: Stacking rules are changed to the following for this match and this match only. Each team may post as many roleplays as they wish, with no waiting period for replies. HOWEVER, each HANDLER may post only once per day. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO WAIT FOR SOMEONE ON THE OTHER TEAM TO POST BEFORE POSTING, AS LONG AS YOU ADHERE TO THE RULE OF ONE POST PER HANDLER PER DAY.

Post all RP here.

 

[Stalker]

Everything happens for a reason.

"You know it took me a while.... to figure out exactly how to address this. However, it came down to the same thing it's always come down to. Everything in EPW happens for a reason, and that reason............. is ME."

(Camera fades in to Jason Reeves, he's facing the camera with a grin across his face. He's holed up in a dirty motel room somewhere outside of Boston. His face is bruised and scarred more heavily then normal, an obvious result of the brutal match that took place at Russian Roulette.)

Stalker: It's funny, you know, to find out I was right all along. Maybe for you idiots out there I should have explained it more clearly. Be The First... I dare you. Where are my thank yous? Anarky of all people should have listened to me, he should have listened to me and taken advantage of knowing the answer to the Dis riddle.

Obviously he didn't and obviously he failed. So now we look at who is champion and it's back to who I wanted all along. I mean, The First came to me, seeking help. He needed that advantage to secure a victory over someone who he simply couldn't put away. I gave him that advantage. A subtle distraction by a friend can be a powerful, if not deadly, advantage. I gave that to him and he squandered it away almost immediately.

Poor guy couldn't stand on his own two feet, much less defend a championship properly. So what does he do? He runs off like a f*cking girl and cries about it. He cries and cries...

(Jason laughs.)

Stalker: Then cries some more. But during that whole process, he comes up with this stupid idea. This idiotic, moronic idea... to HIDE behind a mask, like a coward. To name call, to call out people he has no business calling out.

I saw this ***** Ivy, celebrate him. For his determination, his grit... it's all lies. All of it.

(Jason takes a long drink from his glass, before his eyes settle back on the camera.)

Stalker: Enough is enough about him though, right? I got my guaranteed title shot, to take whenever I like. On my plate at Aggression 64 is quite a tale of misfits that's for sure.

Layne Winters. Well let's see I think the last time we spoke, you mentioned something about urinating all over my face or maybe it was Triple X's face. Can't remember the exact details, but other then that you are a worthless piece of **** that needs to simply stay out of my way.

Rezin. We go way back, at least with the Rezin I know. Not sure exactly what reality you are going to be in at Aggression 64, but again getting in my way is a bad idea. I understand that you are probably angry with me after the incidents at King of the Cage. But, you gotta let it go and now is the perfect time to do that.

Anarky. Oh.... buddy buddy. What can I possibly say to you that hasn't already come out of my mouth? I'm not even sure why are you on this team to begin with. You obviously have no idea about, where you are going, who you are, what you want to be and how you want to accomplish anything in general. You are a f*cking Frodo and I am Sauron. I destroyed Dan Ryan at Russian Roulette to ensure my shot at you.... too bad you were such a shell of yourself, you lost to a man you already whooped.

As for the opponents, well let's start with the tag champs. Otaku and Karl Brown. I almost handled, both of you, at Wrestleverse. One vs. two and you both barely snuck out of the building with a win. I honestly can't believe that you'll have the same results this time. Considering I actually will have at least one partner to show up.

Little Dick McGee. What the hell are you even doing on that side? Do yourself a favor and back up the **** you talk and drill Impulse in the head for me will ya? I mean honestly the **** you two have spewed at one another and you are supposed to co exist? That's the most laughable thing i've seen since the Dis reveal.

Last... oh and certainly not least. The ultimate good guy, Mr. I love Sunsets and walks on the beach, the guy who you can't help but cheer for!

(Jason coughs a little and holds his hand up to the camera, covering his mouth with the other.)

Stalker: Man... sorry. I just threw up in my mouth a little. If anyone, besides The First, can hold the crown for being the biggest fake in EPW, it's you Impulse. You had the nerve to get upset when I slapped your little whore around. You even had the nerve to offer assistance to Dan Ryan, which he truly needed, to help beat my ass.

You can take your good guy act and shove it up someone's ass who may truly believe it. I would say The First, but honestly, after everything that has gone down, i'm not sure what to think about the kid anymore. Impulse, you are going to be my b*tch in that ring at Aggression 64.

When I get my hands on you, i'm going to end your reign as IC champion. Just to say that I...... I was the one who ended your run.

You are a f*cking punk a$$ little b*tch, that i'm going to squash like a fly. I hope you are ready for this, Impulse. Cause at Aggression 64, your are going to truly experience what it feels like to be.... in my world.

(Static.)

 

[User Poets]

Fake Fool

"I... I don't know what to say."

"Thank you, Stalker, for setting me straight. Thank you for being the only person in the history of my life to cut through all the BS and speak the truth, not just about my career but everything I am in general."

"I am a fraud. And the insight you gave was truly riveting. Did you come up with it all by yourself?"

(FADEIN... on a lovely screenshot from the final moments of the Intercontinental Championship match from Russian Roulette. What can I say, there are certain moments that I'm happy with, and they definitely include wrestling a man who was better than me.

It's true: Larry Tact was the better wrestler that night, and I was still able to pull out a victory. That'll be one to tell the family in fifty years.

But there's no rest for the wicked, and make no mistake, I am wicked. Just ask Jason Reeves.

And...)

"I think I missed a meeting somewhere, Stalker, and I'm worried that it was because I was a rookie and I was getting hazed."

Don't tell the kid, he'll figure it out for himself.

"Ever since Varga told me that the only chance I would have at surviving in professional wrestling was to team up with him, even though he'd openly bragged about double crossing everyone that had ever teamed up with him... ever since Cameron Cruise told me that I would never make it to the top of this sport without screwing over everyone in my way... Ever since JJ DeVille told me that escalating a private war that I was reluctantly dragged to the forefront... that word has been surrounding me."

"Fraud."

I would've thought the memo would be out by now: it's not enough to say it, it has to be true.

"But you've got my attention this time, Stalker, because you had the cojones to put your hands on Rose and now, you get to stand across the ring from me. I've taken a seat at the head of the class and I've got my notebook and permanent marker ready to go, because I want to learn all I can able Stalker's World."

"First question... what's your basis for calling me a fake?"

I'm serious now, Stalker... this is important to me. If I'm a sneaky, undermining, underhanded piece of garbage I'd really like to know, so I can act like it. It's important to me to be real, no matter what the reality is.

"Is it just the fact that nobody can possibly be the nice guy that I am? I have news for you, Stalker... I ain't no nice guy, and I never claimed to be. I do what I do because it's what I do, not because I'm trying to play a part for the cameras."

"Or is this deflection? Are you projecting your own insecurities onto me?"

They'd have to be yours - we are in Stalker's World, after all.

Or... are we?

"Second question... how does it feel to be a spectator in your own drama?"

Didn't see that one coming, did you?

"If this is Stalker's World, and if you're the reason for everything that happens in an EPW ring, then why have you never been in a position to take the EPW World Title?"

"You put Rocko Daymon through a window instead of challenging him to a match."

"You held Triple X by the feet so The First could win the World Title instead of letting nature take its course and challenging Stevens to a match."

"Your interference against Anarky backfired on you and he won the Championship anyways."

"Even now, while you sit there in Stalker's World with a guaranteed shot at the big gold belt, you're wrestling in a match for every other championship that the Empire supports."

"Hell, you were jumping through Dan Ryan's hoops to earn a World Title shot before he'd even set them up in front of you."

Would that be a fear of failure, a fear of commitment, or a fear of blowing your wad too early? Because they do make a pill for that last one.

"I guess there's no real harm in it, if you're that unsure of your own ability to take the World Title from The First that you're milking this 'attention' thing for all it's got. After all, with a banked title shot and the big, all - encompassing mystery over when you'll take it, there's still reason for people to pay attention when you show up on their television. If you took the shot and lost, and the fans saw you for what you really are,"

Which, for the record, is a scared, insecure man-child with abandonment issues,

"then you'd have to go to the back of the line and there wouldn't be any ambiguity anymore as it relates to your manipulations: they really are the desperate attention - seeking of a bitter almost-made-it."

I've got some pills for you, Stalker... they're a bit bitter to swallow but you need a daily dose of truth.

"Even now, you're saying you want to take my Intercontinental Championship in order to end my reign? What that would do is give you a whole host of responsibilities as it relates to this Championship, thus putting your banked shot against The First farther and farther down the road."

"Since that was your plan all along, it makes sense... but it doesn't make you any more than a supporting character in Stalker's World."

"Maybe you should move to a nicer neighborhood. At least, one where you're more than the fourth most important person involved."

"So you'd better go alone."

(Static. And back again, to a headshot as I turned the camera around.)

"Ten seconds left."

"Rich, I don't trust you. Layne, I don't know you. Dragons, I don't have anything against you, Rezin, I don't believe you, and Anarky, I don't think this is where you saw your night going. I'm going into this to retain my Championship, gentlemen, but there's no reason why we can't have a nice, clean match."

FADE

 

[Stalker]

Fraud

"Call it what you want, Impulse, but I see the envy in your eyes. Everyone sees it, except you."

(Fade in to Jason Reeves, hunched over a small coffee table, in the same motel room where we left him. He looks like hell, with an empty whiskey bottle next to him, it's easy to see why.)

Stalker: Yeah you are a fraud, a fraud so filled with envy at the success around him that you just can't stop. I see you for what you really are, Impulse. It happens with every promo and you are too blind to see it. Asking me to explain it to you would be useless because just like all frauds you'll refuse to accept the facts.

EPW is, has been and always will be Stalker's World. Regardless of how you interpret what that means, it'll always be above your pay grade. You are a bug in my world that needs to be squashed, ended, destroyed. Your career needs to be in my hands, just as so many before you, so you can watch me 'end it' before your very eyes.

I am so tired of having to jump through the hoops and ladders you provide every time you open your f*cking mouth. I honestly thought I had seen everything in my life, until YOU entered EPW.

It's going to be a joyous moment, with you on the mat, crying in pain.

(Jason lets out an extended yawn before continuing.)

Stalker: Instead of the usual one or two partners, this match gives me greater power then i've ever had. Three partners to puppet and control at my whim. That fact alone makes me far greater then a supporting actor in my own world.

Fraud.

On the other side, looking at me will be the d*ck master and the Animezing Dragons. None of you will make a difference in this fight. Because there is one thing, that is stopping you, from achieving victory in this match. It's nothing more then a.......

Fraud.

On a final note to you Impulse. Where the hell do you get the nerve to question my drive for that World Title? Have you not seen how I handle my opponents? Or like the fraud that you are do you just ignore those facts? Instead of telling me i'm all about attention, why don't you just shut your f*cking mouth about me and beat me in the ring? That's what you claim to be best at right? That's what you claim to be all about? Well if that's true then why don't you SHUT UP and PROVE it.

Good guys don't run their mouths like you. Fraud.

(Jason leans back and grins at the camera as we blast to static.)

 

[JLevinson]

Re: Fraud

(FADEIN to a local bar in Hartford, Connecticut, we’ve seen many times before. The local patrons are drinking and wearing various UConn paraphernalia before a game. The camera pans towards a booth near the back and Anarky is leaning back, drinking a Thomas Hooker ale. He seems stoic.)

ANARKY: “There are a few cold, hard facts about this business people seem to forget now and again. Men like Stalker.

“For one… you’re surrounded by egomaniacs. Some of them, like Stalker, literally believe they control everything from the Champions to the up and comers. Others, like Impulse, surround themselves with meaningless superlatives like Best Endurance and Most Likely to Inspire You. Or men like Rich Mahogany, who mostly just talk about their junk cause high school is only as far away as you feel.

“For another… everybody loses sooner or later. People make excuses, but it happens. A day late, a dollar short, a step behind. Don’t matter. We’re all human. We pretend not to be, but… we are what we are. I won’t apologize for it.

“But you know what really pisses me off? What I’m so f*cking sick and tired of?

“I’m tired of every motherf*cker in this league trying to tell me how the f*ck I’m supposed to be. Lecture after lecture… I gotta hear every nobody who has done nothing explain how I COULD have been if only I’d been different.

“I don’t owe anybody anything. Doesn’t matter if I’m the champ or not. The belt is something YOU care about. It’s what you live for. What defines you.

“Not me, though. I am not defined by glittery objects or the opinions of my peers. I am not defined by my win/loss record or my accolades. I am defined merely by who I am.

“I am the man who gets in that ring and fights like every fight is going to be the last fight. I am the man who would rather let my body break down than give up. A man who would rather drop a belt than be a hypocrite.

“And I’m the man who lost the EPW World Heavyweight Title and still woke up the next day and went to work. I didn’t cry about it. I didn’t pack up my bags and leave. I didn’t make excuses.

“I am the same guy I was yesterday. I called Dan Ryan and said put me in a match. Don’t care who, don’t care where.

“And so now, once again, I find myself in a match I didn’t ask for, living a destiny someone else dreamed of, full of titles I don’t care about in a match with men I mostly want to hurt because… well, let’s face it… they deserve it.

“That’s what they don’t get. It isn’t about the titles or the kind of person I’m supposed to be. I mean… what the f*ck does that even mean? Supposed to be… ?

“I’m tired of it. Tired of hearing it. Tired of the endless bullsh*t.

“You’re all just walking marionettes, parroting each other… you can’t understand a man like me. A man who might be motivated by something other than glitter and gold and money and fame.

“It isn’t enough for me. I don’t give a f*ck if you like me. If I met your Seal of Approval. If you think my title reign was a success.

“In a sense… this is a relief… without the EPW Title… I can finally be what I am again…

“First can keep the title. He clearly wants it more badly than I do, to the extent that he would do anything to get it and keep it. His desperation… it means everything to him.

“He offered me a rematch. Why should I bother? So he can hide someone else under the ring? So he can do whatever it takes and prove he really, really, really wants to win, no matter the cost? No sh*t. I get it. Stalker’s the same way. So is Rich.

“You’d all stab your own mothers if it got you a pay raise and a few extra minutes on camera. Good for you. Be what you are.

“But don’t come crying to me just cause you’re a bunch of cowardly chickensh*ts who can’t stand and fight like men. That’s not my problem.

“You wanna act like a child… I’ll treat you like a child. When you wanna play with the grown-ups, you can sit at the big boy table.

“Until then… I’m gonna do what I do best. Hit people until they stop moving. Exposing hypocrites. Getting up and laughing at every dumbf*ck like Stalker who promises he’s going to be the one to finally break me.

“Break me? Kinda like how First was gonna break my arm?

“The only thing First broke was everything he ever believed in. Because he needed that sweet, sweet gold rushing through his veins. In a way, I understand it.

“We’re all addicts in the end. For him, it’s the glory of being called Champion. Of the validation of being the best. The jealousy and fame that come with it. It defines him.

“For me… it’s the rush… it’s knowing that no matter how hard Stalker tries, he’s never going to control me… now matter how much Impulse talks about endurance… he hasn’t outlasted me yet…

“… it’s knowing that we are all swirling in an ocean of chaos and entropy and we are all mad and it doesn’t really matter…

“… and I’m still here.

“Just like always.”

(FADEOUT to his crooked smile.)

 

[Stalker]

Dancing circles around 'Nark.

"Useless dirt bag #2 chiming in, good to know I still matter to him."

(Jason Reeves, unshaven face, bags under his eyes. Staring into the camera from the same dirty motel room he's been holed up in for the past week, or more.)

Stalker: Anarky every time you open your mouth it's like a rerun of 'As The World Turns'. Another excuse, another lie, another reason why you simply don't care. For a man who cares so little you sure do put your ass on the line all the time. I knew, deep down, when I saw you win that title against The First, that life as we know it would change forever.

You aren't Sean Stevens, Lindsay Troy, Joey Melton or even The First. You are your own man, who repeatedly claimed that 'The title landed on me' and not the other way around. It's a well known fact to everyone in EPW just how much you sucked as champion.

Ask the locker room, ask Dan. If he can speak that is. By the way, I gotta ask man, how was your conversation with him on the phone when you asked for a match? Did he sound upset? Angry? Sad? Bitter? Sorry for going off track, I just wanted to know how the man who I destroyed at Russian Roulette is doing.

As you have said a million times though, you don't care what anyone says about you, or your championship run. Your tired of the lectures and the boys voicing their opinions about you. I wonder is that tired feeling you have affecting your ring work? You won the six man tag match before Russian Roulette, thanks to Copycat. Steven Shane was half the wrestler, that night, then he normally was. I'm not complimenting the guy, but since I was tag team champions with him I at least know a little bit about his ring work.

Losing to Rich and now The First have been embarrassments to your motto of 'doing work'. At this moment in time, your work sucks, your ring attitude sucks, your promos suck. You are turning into a more bitter old man then even ME! And that is saying something.

In the end though, as sh*tty as it may be, you are my partner at Aggression 64. Do your job, bring your A game and don't get in my way. There is only one thing I care about and that is making sure Impulse doesn't walk out of that building under his own power. So enjoy the show and even give me some love, since i'm doing us all a favor.

Showing Impulse what it really means to be.... in My world.

(Black.)

 

[User Poets]

Narkolepsy

(FADEIN... on a complete history of my EPW career to date. No, it's not a new video series, because I would say I've wrestled in precisely one epic knock down drag out in my time here so far, and it's not a DVDR of every match I've wrestled so far, either - because that would be kind of boring.

It's just a list.

A piece of paper that literally says "Impulse wrestled this guy at this show," or "Impulse and this guy who was his partner or these guys who were his partners wrestled these other guys at this show."

And the penmanship is questionable at best.

But it's not like the list or the paper ever asked for any of this...)

"I've resisted for a long time."

"I've fought the urge, and I've been quiet out of respect."

Yes, respect. I have a lot of respect for people who have earned it.

"But wow... Anarky may be the worst World Champion ever."

And I do include all of my darkest nightmares about who Dis could've been in that.

"I know you're sick and effing tired of everyone telling you how you're supposed to carry yourself, who you're supposed to be, what you're supposed to say and how you're supposed to say it, Nark... unfortunately when you're the World Champion you don't get to decide that for yourself."

"Did it ever occur to you that the people who were critical of every aspect of your life didn't actually care a whit about you or what you were doing?"

I know I didn't.

Don't.

Present tense.

"But when you're the World Champion of a wrestling company, you represent that company to the rest of the world, and if the World Champion of your company is a whiny woman without the woman parts, wouldn't you take that personally?"

"For reference, everyone hated Sean Stevens when he was EPW World Champion because he was a cocky, arrogant S.O.B. who told everyone in the company that they weren't good enough to defeat him. He then made this company the talk of the wrestling world by holding the belt for two years. He gave every wrestler on the roster for that timeframe a sense of pride in their home promotion."

And if he didn't then those roster members don't understand professional wrestling.

"On the other hand... the belt doesn't define Anarky. He puts it in his trunk with the rest of his wrestling gear and goes away to the closest watering hole to forget about the burdens he carries."

"Of course the belt didn't define you, you were averaging a successful title defense once every five months. For all intents and purposes, The First was the Empire's World Champion for a year and a half, only he wasn't allowed to carry the title or defend it."

Just like having a drink doesn't make you an alcoholic, carrying a belt doesn't make you a Champion. Your attitude makes you a Champion, which is why everyone in the Empire called you a charlatan.

"But if it was such a burden, why did you continue to carry it? If you never wanted to be Champion, why didn't you vacate the title and hold onto your principles?"

"Do you even know what you believe in, Nark?"

"That's why all of the disdain floating toward Dis hasn't sustained itself in the wake of his victory, Nark... because The First has clearly articulated his desire for the Championship and his desire to be the man out front, carrying the promotion on his shoulders. He's accepted the burden and he's not treating it like a burden."

He's not talking about how much he loved Trendy Hispter Band back when they were just starting, but now that they're on a major label, they suck because they've sold out.

Partly because most of those bands always sucked, and partly because nobody is impressed by anyone too hip for the room.

"But don't worry too much, Anarky... you won't have to deal with people telling you how to live anymore. Your brush with attention ends here when you fail to capture any of the three Championships and four belts that you have the chance to take, and your name will be relegated to the EPW version of Trivial Pursuit in the category 'Underachiever or Overhyped?'"

If you hated the Championship so much, however, why didn't you defend it more and up the odds that you'd have lost it before the main event of a major pay per view? Aggression doesn't pay nearly as much as headlining Russian Roulette... but it's all about the art, isn't it?

"I'm glad for one thing, though."

"Yet."

'Impulse talks about endurance... he hasn't outlasted me yet.'

I'm glad you see it as an inevitability, Nark.

"But before now, when would I have had the time? Our only crossing has been as tag team partners on the same side of the ring. I trusted you as my partner just as much as you trusted me as yours: and the injury to Steven Shane notwithstanding we worked well enough together."

"Even disagreeing with almost everything you were doing,"

- or weren't doing -

"- as EPW Champion, I publicly put my support with you because you were setting the tone."

Or were supposed to set the tone.

"It didn't seem to matter, since apparently doing your own thing and exposing the hypocrites means that you don't pay attention to the things that don't support the narrative you want to support."

"If you have to twist the facts around, Nark... how successful could you ever have been at calling out the hypocrites?"

Pot, kettle, black, as Miss Ivy would say.

"I'll tell you where I did outlast you, Nark."

And I dropped the EPW Intercontinental Championship belt on top of the list of matches.

"I still have my belt."

FADE

 

[Justin]

Might as well face it, you're addicted to Love

[This is serious business.]

Toderator:
This is serious business.

[An explanation is required.]

[Rich Mahogany, along with being the brand spankin’ New and Improved Empire Television Champion, is also a man with the albatross of disease draped heavily around his neck. You see, The Ladies Man is addicted to, well, The Ladies.]

[More specifically, their vagina.]

[Even more specifically, putting his wiener into them.]

[As such, Rich has joined the only fellowship of men and women in the world who join together to share share experiences, strength, and hope in order to solve their problems and help others recover. Don’t look at me, I took all of this crap from their website.]

[The problem is, Rich is here specifically to meet chicks, and everybody knows it.]

Toderator:
Come on, Rich, we’ve asked you time and time again to dress appropriately when attending these meetings. You’re clearly attempting to arouse in that travesty you call an outfit.

[Maybe I should explain the Toderator. You see, Tod is one of those passive aggressive types of homos who have to always be in charge of everything they participate in, and then they use their positions of power to subtly turn their gay anger on the world. Now, don’t get it twisted here, I’m not using those slurs to be offensive, just putting down the facts. The dude is gay and he gets his panties in a twist about everything. The group had long-since given up on trying to do anything productive and just let Tod run things. At Rich’s first session he decided that Tod was some kind of Moderator.]

[As such, The Toderator was born.]

Rich Mahogany:
Listen here, junior, I don’t hear anybody talking about any kind of arousal but you. What’cha hidin’ from us in them trousers, Tod, you pitchin’ wood there thinkin’ about my luscious man-meat?

Toderator:
WHAT? HOW DARE YOU?!

Rich:
And besides, I made a point to wear more clothing this time, SERIOUSLY!

[Rich points to the Television Title strapped snugly around his strangely well defined lower-abdomen.]

Rich:
See, I wore my freakin’ belt!

Toderator:
You wore it over a Speedo. The only other thing you have on are a pair of dollar store flip-flops and that God-awful thing you call a neckerchief! Good God, man, have you no decency?

Rich:
None to speak of...

[The Toderator rages. I suppose now would be a good enough time to introduce the bit players in this sad excuse for an SA meeting. Sitting to Tod’s right is a man in a big ass bear outfit. Like, a mascot, but not one you’ve ever seen before unless you’re into obscure European wrestling from the early two-thousands. His name is Bungle.]

Bungle:
Personally, I don’t see the issue.

[Sitting across from Bungle and to the left of the Toderator are Mindy and Cindy. If you’ve ever seen Anger Management then you have all the information you need about these two. If you haven’t, you’re an idiot and you shouldn’t be reading this. Or breathing. Or copulating... Especially copulating.]

Cindy: [giggling]
Me neither!

[]

Mindy: [giggling]
Me too!

[]

[The Love Machine flexes.]

Rich:
See, I win.

[The Toderator huffs out a sigh, defeated.]

Toderator:
Fine, next week we can all ignore the Dress Code, I’ll put my dick in a sock and swing it around for everybody to gawk at.

Rich:
That’s gimmick infringement, FAG.

[Hundreds of homosexuals are writing angry letters right now. Deal with it.]

Toderator:
Moving right along. We were discussing our fears before you decided to stroll in here twenty minutes late and stir up a scene, care to weigh in on the subject?

Rich:
Of course! The Rich-Man knows a thing or two about fear. But, how about just for giggles you guys give me the Cliff’s Notes version of what you already said.

[Tod rolls his eyes.]

Bungle:
I was talking about how I am afraid of fire.

Rich:
Because you’re a simple woodland creature who’s tiny peanut-sized brain can’t comprehend the magic light?

[...]

Bungle:
Ah, no, because I’m wearing a big ass flammable bear suit. What kind of gullible idiot are you anyway?

Rich:
A sexy one?

[The bear’s eyes roll. Literally. For realsies.]

Rich: [jerking a thumb at the girls]
And those two?

Bungle:
Not enough cock in the world to satisfy them.

[The girls giggle.]

Rich:
An easily overcome fear! ifunowutimean!

Toderator:
RICH!

Rich:
FINE!

[A tense moment passes.]

Toderator:
Care to chime in?

Rich: [face scrunches]
Fear, huh? Yeah, I can talk about fear. There’s this guy, at my work, his name’s Jason. I’m scared sh*tless of this guy.

Toderator:
Why?

Rich:
Well, he’s huge. Well, not really, but he seems huge. He’s always skulking around in the shadows. He’s got a bunch of nasty scars all over him, too, I think he might be the spawn of Satan. I don’t know why, but there’s something about him...

He gives me the heebeejeebees.

Toderator:
And how does this make you feel?

[The Ladies Man cocks an eyebrow.]

Rich:
It makes me feel scared, stupid. Are you not paying attention?

Toderator:
And how do you plan on overcoming this fear?

Rich:
By staying the hell away from the guy, that’s how! I’m not getting within ten foot of him, ever, and there’s not a single thing that anybody anywhere can do to change that! I think he may be in control of time and space, so, that might pose a problem, but ol’ Rich can be a pretty slippery cat when it counts, can you dig it?

[Everybody stares blankly at him.]

Toderator:
What is it that you said you do again?

Rich:
Nevermind that. There’s this other guy, his name is Anarky.

Bungle:
Anarchy?

Rich:
NO YOU CRAZY BEAR! Say it with me now: ANARKY!

[Rich turns to the Fourth Wall and gives a thumbs up.]

Rich:
This guy huffs and puffs like he’s some kind of a big deal, I don’t get it though. Maybe I’ve been here on a down couple of months, but since I’ve been around the guy’s done nothin’ but count the lights, and that’s including the one time I’ve squared off with him.

I just don’t believe the hype.

Also, I refuse to review old tape, I ain’t that guy.

I like to rely on what I’ve seen, and from what I’ve seen Anarky is that he’s a whole lotta blah blah blah and not a whole lotta anything else. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure that if given three-quarters of a chance I’ll more than likely just go ahead and roll him up one more time, one-two-three, just like the last time.

All.

By.

My.

Self.

[The four members of the group not presently wearing a Television Title all stare blankly at the one who is. Rich is oblivious.]

Toderator:
So, moving right along...

[Once the spotlight is off of The Morning Wood, he quickly becomes bored. There is a whole scene about drool and odd-sounding farts that I won’t bother you with.]

[That’s just how we get down.]

 

[LQJT86C]

Re: Everything happens for a reason.

(FADEIN: LAYNE WINTERS)

WINTERS: Stalker...I JUST came back. The least you can do is honor my return by getting your facts straight. I threatened to piss on the face of Sean Stevens, not you, and after TWO YEARS of ducking me, Stevens gave the finger to all the fans he pretends to care about by retiring, because his World Countout Tour against The First finally ended with him losing in a way that mandated the title change hands, and he was all out of friends to make him look good. I will go on record by saying the title reign of Sean Stevens is not only the worst in EPW history, but in ALL of history. Yes, even if you count Lindsay Troy. For the record, I do not count her title reign, I put an asterisk next to it, mostly because she is a woman. I've been ARRESTED for beating up women tougher than Lindsay, but if you do it in EPW, they honor you. Stevens only had one option left, and that was to face ME, and he retired instead.

But take a look at yourself, Stalker. You've been here how long? And you're talking about taking Impulse's Intercontinental title? The sh*t NOBODY cares about? A ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY POUND MAN IS WORLD CHAMPION, and you are focused on the 180 pound IC champ? Take a shot at the big prize already.

Don't waste your time sh*t-talking Anarky for being a waste of life. I TOLD YOU all that over a year ago. I told you he didn't give two craps about the belt, and he'd just wind up losing it in no time. Poor Anarky, having to deal with the expectations that come with being champion - namely the desire to defend and honor the belt. He only lives to hurt people! Well Nark, this may come as a surprise to you, but I'm NOT here for the blood. I'm here to beat the best, win the belt, get the pay-day, and retire myself the F*CK out of here. Nothing you do has any tangible meaning, and you wonder why people are lukewarm on you? Little kids in the Congo are wearing the Anarky merchandise EPW can't get rid of. Your biggest fanbase is a bunch of dart-blowing villagers who communicate in tongue-clicks.

You beat me on a technicality - TECHNICALLY, my triceps ripped, and you used it to your advantage. You got the win, fair and square, but YOU did not beat ME. LAYNE WINTERS beat LAYNE WINTERS. More than a year of defending the Television title night after night, week after week, making it the most HERALDED TITLE IN EPW HISTORY, and finally it all caught up to me. The fans know who the real undefeated World Champion was during that year - it wasn't SEAN STEVENS. It was LAYNE WINTERS: the ONLY champion who never ran from a fight.

Dan Ryan BEGGED ME to come back. He said, "Layne, I just can't trust these guys to carry the company any more. Sean Stevens stuck it to me, and I need the real champ back. Will you do it?" And after saying no three times, and being asked four, I finally relented and said OK. But it's not going to be all the time. I'm going to fight on MY terms, MY way.

Welcome back to the New School. Mettle tested, Egobuster approved.

(FADEOUT)

 

[JLevinson]

Re: Everything happens for a reason.

(FADEIN to a room covered in various memorabilia and paraphenilia from the long career of Anarky. There's a life-size cutout of him from almost 15 years ago. There's the 2004 Match of the Year trophy against Maelstrom. The 2010 EPW King of the Cage trophy. And of course, the titles, ranging from the CSWA EN World Heavyweight Title to the WFW World Heavyweight Title to the ASWF World Heavyweight Title to the FWF World Heavyweight Title all the way up to the EPW World Heavyweight Title in various display cases. Anarky is sitting in a leather recliner, smoking a cigar.)

ANARKY: "You know what this match kind of reminds me of? A bunch of basement-dwelling neckbeards explaining that the girl who won't f*ck them isn't that hot anyway.

"Gee, whiz, a buncha wrestlers who have never been EPW World Heavyweight Champion only give my reign a 3 out of 10? Gosh, guys, if only I'd known I had to impress you, I'd have stopped wrestling a decade ago.

"I mean, really, listening to people like Stalker or Impulse lecture me about my career? Really? That's like Mark Sanchez telling Joe Namath he could've been really good if he'd only just cut his hair.

"Guess what, b*tches. If this was the d*ck measuring contest you want it to be... I'd already have won. I accomplished more in my first three years than most of you will in your entire lives. And in another two years, most of you will probably have hung up your tights and sat at home and told your oveweight wives that you really could've kicked Anarky's ass if only he would've given you a shot. You were so close to hitting it big.

"What really amuses me is that you literally are too f*cking stupid to understand that when you've already accomplished everything in the industry, that gold becomes something OTHER people worry about. Does Warren Buffet lie awake at night because his hedge fund didn't perform as well this year? Of course not. He just gets up and does what he does best -- goes out there and makes money. He doesn't have to wave it around.

"Does he give a f*ck if some punk kid with an eTrade account isn't impressed? F*ck no.

"So excuse me, Stalker, for not crying myself to sleep over the fact that you aren't impressed by my career. And what, exactly, have you done, besides take credit for other people accomplishing things? You were supposed to help First beat me... you failed at that. You were supposed to take the belt from me... you failed at that. You know, for a manipulative psychopath, I gotta say, you're pretty f*cking impotent. I mean, honestly, if Caitlyn Daymon could just learn what a f*cking restraining order was, you'd pretty much be on the side of the road, trading blowjobs for crack.

"And Impulse, who has been here for all of a few weeks, has decided that I'm the worst Champion ever? Wow, nice. You've really upped your f*cking ego to the next level there. But if you could take Sean Stevens' c*ck out of your mouth for a second, you'd realize there's no need for you to go down on him quite that hard. He did quite a good job of that himself. I mean, it's hilarious. For all the talk about what a fighting champion I wasn't, Stevens was even worse. You'd know that if you were here, but you weren't.

"I don't really get why fans cheer you, Impulse. You're a f*cking egomaniac. Always criticizing others. Always explaining that only YOUR way is THE way.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. You think I should've vacated the title simply because I don't brag about how great I am? Really? That's your f*cking thesis?

"You ever heard Eli Manning bragging about being the greatest before? No. You know why? Because he knows it ain't the size of the ego in the fight. It's just the fight. That's it.

"You think I'm ashamed of my title reign? Puh-lease. First admitted to the whole world he wasn't man enough to beat me the minute he concocted this insane plan. He knew it. I knew it. The whole f*cking world knows it.

"So he plans and connives and schemes, and unlike Stalker, he's pretty good at it, and now he's the Champion. Congratu-f*cking-lations to him. You wanna go give him a backrub for all of his pride, Impulse? Because you've decided pride is what matters?

"Not going out there, night after night, and fighting. Not laying your body on the line for 15 years. You sh*t on that. You can't muster even a tiny ounce of respect for that.

"Don't worry about me, Impulse. I'm always going to have to deal with people criticizing me. That's why everybody in this match is talking sh*t about me and not you. Because I've been EPW World Heavyweight Champion, unlike every other single person in this match. You are talkers. I'm the one who did it.

"You don't like how I did it? Okay. Great. It's nice that you have an opinion and that you think it matters.

"Like ol' Richie Rich. He's been here even less time than Impulse, but in a way, I almost respect him more, because at least he KNOWS he doesn't know sh*t. There's something to be said for the self-awareness of realizing you're mostly just talking sh*t and don't really have a good idea of what's going on.

"Do I think these d*ck jokes are gonna get boring after a few more weeks? Oh yeah. But who the f*ck cares what I think? Certainly not him. He's living on Planet Rich, and on Planet Rich, he's pretty much the king d*ck and he's got the illustrious Television Title to prove it. Oh, and he pinned me.

"I mean, define irony. The guy literally has spent the last month talking about beating me, and then says, well, you know, Anarky isn't a big deal. Well, which is it, then? Is pinning me pretty much the best thing you've ever done or am I a nobody who doesn't deserve to oil your pecs?

"And then we have Layne Winters. Oh Layne. You know, Layne... there was a time when I liked you. I thought you had potential. You were gonna be the Giant Killer.

"But then you exposed yourself as the same kind of fraud as The First. When the going got tough... so did you. Just like him.

"When things didn't go your way in King of the Cage, did you rehab your muscle and come back stronger than ever? Nope. You nursed your frail little ego until your need for attention exceeded your laziness and here we are. Congratulations. If only you could've hired a manger to hide under the ring, you, too, could brag about beating me. We could have a whole f*cking party full of people who spent six months crying at home and then came back to taunt me.

"But in the end... you hate me, not for who I am, but for what I expose in you. Your humanity. Your weakness. Your fear.

"I admitted the title was a burden, and you pounced on it. Why should I be ashamed? I'm a human being, for f*ck's sake.

"Most of you aren't even that. You're just a list of reasons your opponent sucks. You're just a bunch of critics. Impulse asked me what I stand for.

"Well what the f*ck does Impulse stand for? Because as far as I can tell, Impulse stands for telling other people how to do their job when he hasn't done it. He stands for stroking his own ego and basically guaranteeing he can outlast me or anybody else. He's for denying his own weakness and humanity because that would be WRONG. Because he's the face of the company, damnit. And someone's gotta tell pretty lies, so it might as well be him.

"Or Stalker... Stalker stands for the waning admission that we cannot control anything, that we are all floating in a sea of chaos, but that even this we cannot admit, we trip over ourselves, we have to control everything, we have to believe even our failures or our own doing, because if not, then the universe really is a cold, unflinching place, and there may be no happy ending to our story, and we may not have destiny on our side.

"Or Rich... Rich stands for the pure ego, the self. Glimmering and glowing and basking in his own reflected glory, and denying the existence of anything which contradicts it. The bubble of beauty, contained in itself.

"Or Winters... what does he stand for? Mostly the same sh*t as Rich. Not quite as shiny and pretty... there was a time when Winters represented something else. Something more beautiful. Missed opportunity. Potential... the savage cost of the ring. The fear in us all of not quite making it. But now... now Layne is just another poser. Just another pretender to the throne making his case. Less glamor, more hate.

"But what do I stand for, right? Isn't that what Impulse wanted to know?

"I stand for everybody else. I stand for insecurity and fear and humanity and knowing that you never really know. Knowing that this could all end tomorrow because you're a split second too late. Because you missed a spinning heel kick or a drop toe hold. Because you ran a fever and you missed your chance. Because your triceps tore at the wrong time. Because there's no such thing as better or worse, only better right now... only better tonight.

"Only better for three seconds. Three seconds of weakness and fear and self-loathing and hate and everything else.

"I am what happens when you've already been to the mountaintop and you have to find something else. A reason to pull your broken body out of bed one more time. To ease the aches that come with 15 years of wrestling. Of watching everybody you come up with retire years and years ago.

"But even after all this time... there's still something else that thrills me.

"It's every time I get a chance to get into that ring and slap the taste out of some punk egomaniac dipsh*t's mouth. Every time I prove that just because you think you're the greatest doesn't entitle you to sh*t. Just because you can talk sh*t doesn't mean sh*t.

"You're human. You can bleed. You can break. You can lose.

"You are weak.

"And in that moment of realization... when all of your rationalizations mean nothing... when all of your posturing are just words in a sea of sh*t...

"... in the ring, nothing protects you from me, from chaos, from inevitability.

"It's beautiful."

(He takes a long, slow puff on the cigar and smiles.)

ANARKY: "Don't worry, gentlemen. Belt or no belt. I get to sleep just fine.

"So f*ck you, and thanks for asking."

(FADEOUT.)

 

[EpyonMarx]

Re: Everything happens for a reason.

[FADE IN to an interview in a small coffee shop. Otaku is dressed somewhat sensibly for once; the only thing that suggests he’s an oh-mega anime fan is his home-made T-shirt showing hundreds of characters from various popular, and obscure, anime. “The Dragon” is wearing sunglasses despite being indoors, protecting his recovering left eye. The interviewer is somewhat familiar to Empire Pro fans, having appeared in a fair few promotional segments – it’s Matt Matteson, a tape recorder making sure not a word is missed as we come in mid-interview]

MM: So it really didn’t surprise you when Layne came out?

Karl: I wouldn’t say that it didn’t surprise me, I didn’t expect him there. But if you get put off by surprises you never amount to much.

Otaku: I mean, sure, Winters-san coming out as a replacement and First-baka missing out shocked me but I remembered what Dragon-domo says. Take it in stride.

Karl: You don’t get a route-map for life, life’s full of surprises and it’s how you adapt. We adapted at Russian Roulette and we’re sitting here as two time world tag team champions.

MM: I think I’m right but you’re only the third team to do that, aren’t you? Cameron Cruise Project and Blitz were both huge teams back in the day, how do you think you compare, Karl?

Otaku: Wait, do Blitz count?

MM: They were given the titles a second time by Marcus Wescott.

Karl: Leaving that aside I know what you mean. Blitz were a dominant team while they held the gold, I think they’ve still got the longest single tag team reign in Empire Pro history. Over a year. Joey and Cameron, though, they had something even more special. You’ve got to remember Blitz had been teaming for years before they came here, Joey and Cameron were able to hit the ground running and wrestled in what I think are some o the best tag team matches in history. The match against Christian and Lindsay was incredible to watch backstage. How do we compare? I don’t really think we do at the moment. We’ve won the titles twice but come on, Blitz held the title over a year and the CCP held it all told what, two hundred fifty, three hundred days, with so many title defences? We need a few defences under our belts before we can be held in that esteem.

MM: You didn’t have a successful defence last time, did you? So I can see what you mean, there must be a lot of pressure.

Otaku: Man, did you have to bring that up? I’m still gutted we lost!

MM: But does it add any pressure?

Karl: Maybe for Otaku. I don’t think I’ve had a successful title defence since I was Intercontinental champion! And maybe you should also ask The First since he didn’t win a match as World Champion the first time. There’s going to be some expectations from the fans, sure, but nothing we can’t handle.

MM: Otaku?

Otaku: Like Dragon-domo said, there’s some pressure. I wanna win, I wanna keep the belts, I wanna make sure we do get comparisons with Blitz and the Project. I mean, yeah, some of the people on the roster, they’re gonna say Blitz were nothing, Cruise and Melton-san were nothing, but those kinds of people are just jealous.

Karl: [interrupting] I don’t know if I’d say jealous. Not always. Sure, some people are jealous that others have had success, but there’s also a sense of trying to belittle others. I mean, if I say that I think Blitz were great tag team champions, and they were, or that Lindsay Troy was a fantastic World Champion, which she was, then you’re going to get people who play that juvenile game where they say “No they weren’t! You suck because you said they were, they weren’t!” It’s the pro-wrestling equivalent of “My dad could beat up your dad”, but I don’t think it’s jealousy.

Otaku: Really? You mean they’re not jealous about not being as successful here as the people they insult?

Karl: Like I said, it’s partly them trying to big themselves up. I wouldn’t expect a match to go by where someone didn’t claim they were the biggest, baddest thing to set foot in the ring in history. I just ignore it and get on with my life because, I think it’s kind of like Anarky’s said over the years, it doesn’t honestly matter what others think.

MM: You’ve been saying that as long as I’ve known you.

Karl: It’s true, though. If I took what other people say to heart about my opinions, I’d be a wreck. If I kept trying to defend my world view whenever it differed from an opponent’s or even just someone who wants to talk on the street, I’d never get any sleep. If other people think Blitz or Lindsay or Christian or anyone who’s held a title before wasn’t good, that’s their problem, not mine.

MM: So I’m guessing you’ve changed a bit? Used to be you’d always try and defend your position.

Karl: People change, Matt. I never used to care about titles. Losing the tag team title, the way we did, it stung. Losing the TV title didn’t, losing the Intercontinental title when I did, that was actually a relief at the time. People change, we’re in a state of flux. If we didn’t change we’d make the same mistakes over and over, never growing.

Otaku: And the world’d be dull, wouldn’t it?

MM: That, too, yeah. Now, I wanna get on to the big eight man in a minute, but, Karl, I’ve gotta ask since you were in Empire Pro back then. How would you compare The First and Lindsay Troy, Dis against Dis?

Karl: Lindsay was far better.

MM: Care to elaborate? I kinda guessed you’d say that.

Karl: Well… I guess you can sum it up with a couple of points. Firstly, Lindsay did the whole Dis thing on her own. She even wrestled twice on a night a couple of times.

MM: Wait, did she?

Karl: Yeah. A tag match against Blitz and a match against… Adam, I think. That was on an Aggression, then it was the four way tag and the match against Beast at Russian Roulette. So, in that respect, Lindsay was head and shoulders above First as Dis. But you’ve got to look at the other things around it; both wanted to win the title, and both did what they felt they had to. Would Beast have lost if he’d known he was facing Lindsay? Would Anarky have beaten The First rather than Dis? It doesn’t matter now, the Dis mask gave an advantage and they took it. Credit to them.

MM: I’m confused; you just said Lindsay was better but that they both needed a mask to win the title?

Karl: Lindsay was better. I don’t think The First would have beaten Anarky had he wrestled in the tag team title match, whereas Lindsay did manage to wrestle both matches. And yes, they did both use the mask to hide who they were, but if you look at it that’s part of wrestling. It’s not just a physical contest, it’s a mental one. I think I said it when I wrestled Lindsay, wrestling’s a mental contest. The Dis mask meant Beast and Anarky didn’t know who they were actually wrestling and that, yeah, it had an impact, but it was a good ploy by Lindsay and First. I think they weren’t the bravest for doing it but it got results and this is a results business.

MM: OK. Well, Anarky, who lost the title to Dis/First, is facing you as part of the big eight man tag team match. You’ve also got Impulse and Rich Mahogany, two champions, on your side against Anarky, Stalker, Rezin and Layne Winters. It’s a huge match but both teams, isn’t there some tension between the team mates?

Otaku: I think there’s some, yeah, there’s gotta be! Look at all the egos, man! Anarky-san and Stalker-san, Mahogany-san and Impulse-san, everyone wants to be the top dog.

MM: Do you think it’s going to be an advantage for you two trying to keep your titles?

Karl: It’s like any other match. Otaku and I have the other’s back. Impulse, I can’t say I know too much about the man, but I get the impression he wants to take this match, win, and move on, so as long as he’s cool with that, there’s no issues. Mahogany seems like a familiar personality but he’s not going to want to lose. I’m not going to get into the dynamics of the other team, because there’s so many permutations. But I’m guessing you’re asking what I think our chances are in this match?

MM: Yeah.

Otaku: Kind of a roundabout way of asking, man!

Karl: I think our chances are pretty good. Sure, none of the people involved want to lose – very few people ever wake up and think “Gee, I sure can’t wait to lose today!” But I think given the fact that Otaku and I team regularly, given the fact that we’re going to be watching each other’s backs and keeping things together, odds are we’ll walk away with the win, or at least our titles intact.

MM: Wait, at least keeping the titles in tact?

Karl: You never know. The other team might click, Stalker and Anarky might be putting on an elaborate act and either Impulse or Mahogany gets beaten. Too many variables that it’ll make your head spin if I start listing them all.

Otaku: It’s gonna be a great match, I reckon. I mean it’s already throwing up so much – like will Layne-san and Anarky-san destroy each other?

Karl: Layne’s an interesting one. Tough as nails, won’t run from a fight. Bit messed up in the head, but a fun challenge.

MM: Messed up?

Karl: Sorry. Personal joke.

MM: Care to explain?

Karl: Then it wouldn’t be personal. But in a nutshell, anyone in wrestling who uses the “I beat me, you didn’t beat me!” bit has a strange view of the world. Layne Winters didn’t pin Layne Winters. Or am I being overly autistic again, hard to tell.

Otaku: That would be a fun show! Layne Winters-san fighting Layne Winters-san! The viewing level would be… poor.

MM: I really thought you were going to

Otaku: [interrupting] Nope. Overused. Like arrows to the knee. Old, lame, tired. Moving on!

MM: Right. Well, Otaku, you carried a lot of the responsibility in the tag team match at Russian Roulette, are you planning on doing that again?

Otaku: I was worried about Dragon-domo! Sure, he was cleared to wrestle, but he couldn’t see clearly out of one eye so he was wearing a patch!

Karl: I still have to wear a patch in the ring.

Otaku: So naturally I’m going to do what I can to help.

MM: And you think still wearing a patch, you’ll be able to retain the titles? How long’ve you gotta wear the patch for anyway? You’ve not got it on now.

Karl: Another two, three months. I can see out of the left eye but my vision’s so blurred it messes me about when I have to do something that means concentrating that I’m better off, for now, not seeing out of that eye. I’m more likely to make a mistake with two eyes right now than I am with one.

Otaku: But even if he always had to wear an eyepatch, I’m still convinced we’re gonna win and become one of the great teams! With Dragon-domo’s skill and mind and my energy and talent were going to be a fantastic team!

MM: Sounds like fighting talk. You’re really confident, aren’t you?

Otaku: Of course! Always look forward! If you look backward you’ll trip over something in your way! Attack the problem head on and you’ll break through, either by skill or having a hard head!

Karl: Says a lot about you.

[Matt laughs as Otaku blinks, shrugging his shoulders]

MM: Okay, I think we should call it a day there. Thanks for the interview, guys. It’s going to be a great match. I’ll call you if anything else comes up.

Karl: Sure, Matt. Nice seeing you again.

[Matt stops his tape recorder as we FADE… to a black “Next Time...” logo]

Voice: Next time on Animezing Dragon…

[CUT TO: A shot of a filthy bachelor-esque pad, ramen cups and beer cans and magazines strewn every which way from Tuesday. Yes, Tuesday. Because Sunday is a lot tidier than this!]

Otaku: Hey, Otakuites! Next time on Animezing Dragon, it’s a mess! I don’t mean a fight, I mean a mess! We’ve gotta clean up the apartment before things get really out of hand! Could the war against filth be our biggest challenge yet?

Next time on Animezing Dragon – clean up!

See you soon!

Karl: Running out of ideas?

Otaku: Erm…

[“The Dragon” sighs as we END]

 

[User Poets]

Re: Everything happens for a reason.

(FADEIN to a room covered in various memorabilia and paraphenilia from the long career of Anarky. There's a life-size cutout of him from almost 15 years ago. There's the 2004 Match of the Year trophy against Maelstrom. The 2010 EPW King of the Cage trophy. And of course, the titles, ranging from the CSWA EN World Heavyweight Title to the WFW World Heavyweight Title to the ASWF World Heavyweight Title to the FWF World Heavyweight Title all the way up to the EPW World Heavyweight Title in various display cases. Anarky is sitting in a leather recliner, smoking a cigar.)

And pause.

Roll audio.

ANARKY (V/O): “Not me, though. I am not defined by glittery objects or the opinions of my peers. I am not defined by my win/loss record or my accolades. I am defined merely by who I am."

Rewind.

(FADEIN to a room covered in various memorabilia and paraphenilia from the long career of Anarky. There's a life-size cutout of him from almost 15 years ago. There's the 2004 Match of the Year trophy against Maelstrom. The 2010 EPW King of the Cage trophy. And of course, the titles, ranging from the CSWA EN World Heavyweight Title to the WFW World Heavyweight Title to the ASWF World Heavyweight Title to the FWF World Heavyweight Title all the way up to the EPW World Heavyweight Title in various display cases. Anarky is sitting in a leather recliner, smoking a cigar.)

Pause.

Roll audio.

ANARKY (V/O): "I accomplished more in my first three years than most of you will in your entire lives."

Rewind, and pause on the wide shot of the room. The best angle where we can see the most accolades.

ANARKY (V/O): ""I admitted the title was a burden, and you pounced on it. Why should I be ashamed? I'm a human being, for f*ck's sake."

Also, Anarky... watch your language.

(We're going to stay paused right here, because this is where I want to focus.

Deep breath, we're going to be here for a while.

Three... two... one...)

"I should probably just stop here, thank you for proving yourself to be a hypocrite, and move on. But since I'm an egomaniac, I can't do it."

And apparently, Anarky's idol. That's the only explanation I can come up with for why he's always working so hard to justify his life decisions to me, even if he's trying to justify them by saying that he doesn't have to.

Before he does it anyway.

Yeah, I don't know either.

"Be honest now for a second, Nark... isn't it a little telling that you spent a year of your career whining about how burdensome holding the title was to you, and now you're whining that nobody can talk down to you because nobody else in this match has held the title?"

"Which is it? Was the title a burden or wasn't it? We'll go with your decision either way, we just want you to make one."

"All those other titles you trotted out, presumably to tell us how awesome you used to be, were they burdens? Did you show them to us because you wanted us to see how many hurdles your career had overcome, or because you wanted to say "Look at this, mother hubbards - I'm the undisputed champion of the world in wrestling promotions that no longer run shows."

"I don't know why you thought it would be edgy to describe your accomplishments as burdens, Nark. And I know you decided you needed to win the who has the biggest junk contest by trotting out your trophy room in a direct response to me, dropping my Intercontinental Championship belt in the camera's way to finish off my last piece."

(And with that, there was static, and the IC Title belt landed in front of the camera again. Callback!)

"The difference, Anarky, is that I'm proud of my championship, and I have never, ever treated it like a burden."

"Conversely, you treated your EPW World Title like it was an albatross hanging around your neck. The fact that you trotted out your trophy case to make a point is why the fans are indifferent toward you: it's not that you don't stand for anything, it's that you change your point of view from moment to moment depending on what you think will make you look cool at that particular moment."

"Are you trying to be too hip for the room and downplay the giddy excitement that ran through your brain when you took the belt from The First?"

"I never asked for this."

"Are you realizing that your too - hip - for - the - room-ness makes the fans who pay for tickets that pays your nightly check consider you a whiner, and makes the wrestlers who appreciate what a championship belt means consider you an unappreciative douche?"

"I did more in my first three years than any of you have ever done, ever."

"To say nothing of the fact that, if you really did accomplish everything you ever wanted to do in this business years ago, why are you still here?"

"Either you just want to wrestle a match, in which case you'd have declined the King of the Cage, the World Title shots, and the main events and you'd face off against a rotating cast of decent mat wrestlers in the opener, every night - or you won the King of the Cage and the World Title because you felt like you still had something to prove."

"Also, the fans cheer for me because I wrestle well, I have a sense of honor that I adhere to, and I get offended when I hear someone talking about this sport like they'd prefer to be doing anything else."

I didn't really think it was that complicated.

"If you're really don't have anything else to prove, Nark... why aren't you laying brick somewhere?"

I've spent too much time on this, especially considering he doesn't care what I say. I don't even think I'll finish this

(Static. Re-focus on a globe.)

"If this was really Stalker's World, what was the point of the career - versus - title shot match at Russian Roulette against Dan Ryan, Jason? Wouldn't you already be the Stalker Heavyweight Champion of Stalker Pro World Wrestling Empire? I'll be honest, if we were wrestling in Stalker's World, I'd be worried."

"We're wresting on Earth. In the Empire."

"Somehow that puts Team Gold's odds a little higher."

FADE

 

[Stalker]

Crazy

"Oh, I must apologize Layne. I didn't realize I miscalculated where you wanted your piss to land."

(Fade in to Jason Reeves, who is not in a recliner, nor is he smoking a cigar. He also isn't surrounded by former world titles. He's in the same motel room he's been in for the past three promos. Instead of cigars and championship plaques, he has empty liquor bottles and dirty clothes. Certainly not the life of a champion, unlike some people.)

Stalker: Layne Winters is The First is the Dis. Wait what? Yes I have been around here for years and yes I have my banked title shot against that b*tch. Do you really need to be his mouthpiece to tell me I should 'take my shot'? I didn't think so. Instead you need to do your job, stay out of my way and don't interrupt me while i'm breaking Impulse's body in two.

Apparently you didn't see him growing a sack and challenging me prior to Russian Roulette for a match at this Aggression. I am sorry I didn't accept it earlier to the Dis reveal to satisfy my peers.

It also has no bearing on me, nor anyone else in this match, who you told what about Anarky before taking your vacation. Just like before, just like always and just like forever. You are a pawn in my game.

Know where you stand and don't tempt the King again.

(The Career Killer, settles a new bottle of whiskey on the table in front of him, opening it and pouring himself a drink.)

Stalker: Sorry if that was too hash, Layne. It's just... with Anarky on our team it's hard for me not to get a little bit mean. I mean seriously, Anarky, grow a ****ing clue and realize that no matter how many championships you've had or how well you have done, you ruined everything with the EPW Title Reign.

A champion among champions shouldn't be a f*ck up. A champion among champions should've carried that title with respect. A champion... ahh screw it. That's not you, Anarky. No matter how many accomplishments you show off.

It's hard to find who's the bigger fraud between you and Impulse, but for this match's sake I guess i'll stick with him. You however, you need to let it go and quit being a f*cking b*tch man.

Caitlyn Daymon doesn't want a restraining order against me, she wants to see my career ended. Just like I ended her husband's. I put him away and now he's pulling off some washed up special appearance on a fed that doesn't even matter.

The best thing you can do, for all of us, is to shut your damn mouth and move on. You aren't worth the time, nor the effort, to ANYONE in EPW. You will never... EVER... know what it was like to watch you run that title in the ground. Because you were the one doing it! With blinders on and ear plugs in. You didn't care about the voices that were preaching the truth, all you cared about was your own ego.

Ignoring everything that would have improved you, to continue down the path you claimed to be so correct. I am sorry if you feel differently, but it's just the truth. It's the plain, honest, truth. That title reign ruined you, you are done. You are a shell of the man you used to be and the more you run your mouth about how delusional we are, the more you bury yourself deeper.

Prove me wrong. Shut your mouth and show that you can change. Be my partner instead of my enemy. Take the lashings that are TRUE and move on to the future. Prove to me you can be different, PROVE to EPW that you can change. Because in the eyes of all of us, we see no hope, we see no future for you.

(Taking in a deep breath, Jason takes his drink down in one hit and looks back into the camera.)

Stalker: I honestly wish I could sit here and tell you how much I care and or look forward to dismantling the Animezing Dragons. I really can't though. I would be lying to myself and to them. They are simply their because they are tag champions.

If The First and Eddie Burns kept those titles and were involved in the same match, I might have died from a heart attack of excitement. Getting Impulse and The First in the same ring, at the same time? Hell, I might have tried to figure out a way to pin both their b*tch asses to the mat.

In the end though, it's not The First and Burns, it's Otaku and Karl Brown, two men I took on by myself. They barely escaped me, even with the two on one advantage. What more can I say? Besides getting in my way being bad for them of course.

What could they possibly get in the way of? Well destroying Impulse of course.

(Jason grins at the camera and pours himself another drink.)

Stalker: I admire the guy for trying, because obviously he hates Anarky just as much as I do, if not more. But still, a fraud will always be a fraud. I honestly have no idea why people still cheer you. Considering you do nothing but tear into the other fans' Heroes. I mean your fans must have some f*cked up morals to still think you are what defines a good guy.

That is why I absolutely love who I am and what I do. I have no qualms with being a hypocrite or delusional or self serving or whatever else a bad guy can be defined by. I don't make the claims to be otherwise and I have no issue with pointing out the flaws of others or even making some up.

But when you claim you aren't delusional, when you aren't a hypocrite and when you aren't doing what 'normal' people consider to be bad. That is when I have some issues. Just like Anarky you are a hypocrite of your own right. Asking me to spell out your hypocritical statements and lies would validate this entire statement.

Crazy I know. I am f*cking nuts, but I see you for what you are. It'll only be a matter of time when the fans see what you truly are.

My World is insane I know, but you'll get used to it.

(Black)

"Oh and if you are wondering why I didn't mention Rich... It's because he is taking appropriate action when it comes to me."

(Static.)

 

[RStrawsma]

Suffer, Lambs

(CUE UP: "The Suffering" by Sleep. EARLY Sleep... back when they were still a bunch of kids in a sludge band trying to rip off the Melvins. So, it's not quite Dopesmoker material... but still fitting for our favorite professional wrestling supervillain, REZIN.)

(FADE IN: Midnight in the old Rust Belt through the mid-part of Ohio. Our pick in location is just what we'd expect at this point: an abandoned factory, showing signs of age and decay. Windows are broken. Brick walls are collapsed. The large name letters printed on the side of the building are faded and illegible. Once, it may have been a successful enterprise... but that was another time and another place. Today, it's just a neglected gravestone... which is what everything inevitably becomes.)

(Anyway, the factory isn't what's important. What IS important is the orange flickering glow we can spot from the outside.)

(FADE TO: Inside, where we can see the source of the glow. An open, rusted drum can holds a fire. Three transient individuals huddle around it, trying to stay warm through the cold Midwest night. Names and faces aren't really important... but for the sake of keeping things sane, let's just call them Buford the Bum, Vance the Vagrant, and Horace the Hobo.)

Buford the Bum
Xenia, huh?

Vance the Vagrant
Right... nothing but a bunch of weirdos out that way. Not many cops, though...

Horace the Hobo
I spent a week someplace thinking it was Xenia... then it turned out to be Miami.

Buford the Bum
Miami?! You didn't the palm trees and warm weather for over a week?

Horace the Hobo
Miami, OHIO, assh*le...

Buford the Bum
Oh, right...

(SFX: *CLANG!*)

(The three of them jerk their heads in unison toward the source of the sound.)

Vance the Vagrant
What was THAT?

(An eerie silence follows as they watch the shadows for movement, but can't see anything.)

Buford the Bum
Must have been the rats...

Vance the Vagrant
Bullsh*t! If that's a rat, then that's the biggest friggin' rat in the world!

Horace the Hobo
Anybody there...?

(Another moment of silence follows... until a timeless and sinister face appears in the firelight. Shades obscure the eyes, but the grizzled black beard doesn't hide the shark-like smile.)

Rezin
Just me... the biggest friggin' rat in the world.

(Despite the unsettling sight of him, the transients let out a collective sigh of relief. Not a cop... not a monster... at least to what they know. But obviously by the appearance, they can tell it's one of their own.)

Vance the Vagrant
Jeez, 'bout gave me a heart attack...

Horace the Hobo
Well, come on over here, brother... warm your bones by the fire.

(The goat bastard approaches, but perhaps on his own volition, and not because he was asked. He holds up his hands over the dancing flames to get some warmth in them, but doesn't shiver in the cold like the rest. He seems rather comfortable with it... which is surprising since he isn't wearing shoes or an undershirt.)

Buford the Bum
Wow, son... ain't you freezin' dressed like that?

Rezin
Freezing? Heh... buddy, I'm already frozen.

Vance the Vagrant
You need anything? Boots? Gloves? I can get it for you, man.

Rezin
Well, how about that? Even here in the assh*le of existence, one can still find compassion and kindness toward his fellow man.

Vance the Vagrant
...uh, yeah, whatever. I was thinkin' more along the lines of trading for something if you got it.

(Rezin reaches into his long black coat... pulls out his infamous resin-bong. No idea how he manages to carry that around all the time without anybody noticing.)

Rezin
I'm afraid THIS is all that I have...

(He puts a light to the lump black of sludge in the slide and takes a hit. It's loud, obnoxious, and painful, and even the other guys wince just listening to it. Clearly, this guy is hooked on something even THEY can't fully fathom.)

Horace the Hobo
I dunno what that is, but it looks pretty heavy... even for me.

Buford the Bum
You know where I can find some smack?

Rezin
No smack... no skunk... no rock... JUST GUNK. Neglectful mother's milk.

But you know, now that you guys mention it... there IS something I want.

Vance the Vagrant
What's that?

(Rezin takes in another hit. He holds this one day pretty easily, letting black smoke seep out of his clenched, grinning teeth.)

Rezin
I need y'all to get the f*ck on up out of here.

(CUT TO: Out front again, as the double-door entrance to the factory bursts open and two of them come tumbling out onto the ground. Wounded, they strip themselves off the concrete, groaning in agony.)

Horace the Hobo
Oh my GAWD!! I think that crazy bastard broke my NOSE!! What was that crazy-flippy ninja sh*t?!

Buford the Bum
I don't know, man! Did you see that crazy CLAW he had me in?! Christ, I'm NEVER gonna to get this taste out of my mouth!

Horace the Hobo
Wait... what happened to -- ?!

(SFX: *CRASH!!*)

(They cover their heads as glass and debris rains on them from above, and the third to their trio falls onto them from above.)

Vance the Vagrant
Oh my GOD, he kicked me in the FACE!! My JAW IS BROKEN!!

(His friends pull him to the feet, and the homeless vagabonds quickly shuffle away from the building, running like maimed animals run from the road once they've survived a brush with death. The camera pans up, and watching their retreat is the man who cast them away... the one known as REZIN.)

(CUT TO: Back up on the second floor, the shot over Rezin's shoulder as he stands in the open space where a window used to be. He's chuckling at what he sees below.)

Rezin
Do you think I do these things as a way of IMPRESSING you, Empire Pro?

(He turns to the camera. A nearby fire fills his shades with dancing flames, as if he had glowing orange eyes from hell.)

Rezin
Do you really think, at the end of the day, I'm doing all this mayhem for your f*cking APPROVAL?!

(He lets out a dry and raspy chuckle.)

Rezin
I do what I do simply to see what happens.

You see... society wants to throw up all of these rules and boundaries, trying to wean its people into some dull, monotonous routine of harmonious structure and order. But the belief that such perfect order can exist without some unwanted side-effects, I feel, is a thought just as crazy as me. So I grab the busy little bee-hive of society and shake things up... I get everybody good and pissed... I watch their perfect, pristine order fall into absolute chaos... and I never stop laughing at the results.

(He approaches the drum of fire again and warms his hands, this time alone, which is the company he tends to prefer while living the nomadic life of a social outcast.)

Rezin
Whether you love me or hate me, you can't deny that I at least make things a little more INTERESTING around here...

And really, is that such a BAD thing? Do any of you people realize just how BORING this sport has become?

Or is it just that you've been spoon-fed so much of the same old crap day in and day out, that you can't even remember what it's like to NOT be bored?

(He arches an eyebrow to the camera before coming around the drum so that the flames are behind him. Yeah, the spawn of hell image is really complete that way.)

Rezin
You know... I wish I could just go through a single week in this company... just a SINGLE F*CKING WEEK... without having to listen to all the talking heads bicker back and forth about what makes a "good" champion as compared to a "bad" champion.

This conversation is so old it makes Madonna's halftime show look fresh. Yet week after week, everybody's gotta pipe in, deliver their two cents in the form of a sock full of a quarters, passing off their narrow-minded opinions like cold hard facts. Champions are supposed to be THIS... they're supposed to be THAT... but does any of it really matter? As I've explained time and time again, ALL championships are equally worthless!

Which is why I have to destroy them... and, in the process, destroy the notion that ANYBODY can be better than ANYONE in this federation based solely on who holds a strap of leather and tin. Once that's done, this pointless debate will finally be over.

(He sports that grin that says, "Checkmate, b*tches.")

Rezin
I'm sure the four men standing across the ring from me in this match will be quick to disagree... but that's because without the precious titles hanging around their waists, they're right back to being nothing. They crave the attention they receive, and they fear an existence where they can't stand out above the rest. Funny thing is, they can have all that without the belts... a legacy does NOT have to be made in gold, but they're too stupid to figure it out on their own.

They still don't realize that they're nothing more than placeholders. The people they beat were placeholders... and the people who will inevitably beat them will be placeholders for future placeholders as well. It's an endless cycle, out with the old, in with the new... and still, they foolishly believe that all that matters at the end of the day is whose name is currently engraved in the nameplate.

But a title doesn't make anybody better than what they are at the core. It doesn't make them better than ME. And it sure as hell won't protect them from the people who just don't give a F*CK, regardless of whether you think they're right or wrong. Without or without a belt, I can STILL kick any of those sick, sorry motherf*ckers in the mouth.

And I WILL...

(He glances around his surroundings for a moment and briefly walks off camera, returning with a bent and crooked lawn chair that's barely holding together. He opens it up and takes a seat near the fire, kicking up his bare feet and relaxing for the first time in his new temporary home.)

Rezin
You know, I have to admit... when I saw the line-up for Aggression 64, it was like a weight off my mind.

In that days that followed Russian Roulette, the only thing going through my head was, "Where do I begin? Where do I start my DESTRUCTION of Empire Pro?"

More specifically... which one of you CHAMPS is going to be the first to BLEED?

(He takes a quick hit off his resin bong, clearing whatever noxious smoke is left inside. Hard to imagine he's still burning away that same black lump of sludge that's been with him from the beginning.)

Rezin
Do I begin with the castration of the Ladies Man and do away with the revolving door that is the Television Title?

Do I dehydrate the Marathon Man and finally end the cushy safety pad that is the Intercontinental Title?

Or maybe I should begin where I started everything... by slaying the Dragons and finishing off this federation's miserable tag team division?

I kept thinking about it over and over, weighing pros and cons... up every night for hours, running it through my head, obsessing over it, wandering the streets like some lunatic, heel kickin' mofoz left and right... but even through all that, I still couldn't come to a decision.

But perhaps I was overthinking the matter... because when I learned of this match, I realized... the choice really isn't MINE to make. Maybe, being the agent of chaos and disorder that I am, I'd much rather leave the decision in the hands of the dark will of the Cosmos. In a match with this many egos involved... you can guarantee that order will quickly collapse into chaos.

(He clutches his hands like a mad scientist and tilts his head up, blasphemously cackling to the godless heavens above him.)

Rezin
Yes... CHAOS...

CHAOS is the place where I thrive. CHAOS is where even the greatest and most respected of champions crumble into the weak, sniveling children they really are. CHAOS is where dreams and aspirations BURN AWAY and become ash.

And within that black fog of uncertainty, unpredictability, and absolute terror, one of you will inevitably walk straight into the most dangerous left heel in the history of professional wrestling... and the choice will be made.

(SFX: *Crreeeaak...*)

Rezin
Uh--?!

(SFX: *SNAP!*)

Rezin
OH F*CK!!

(All at once, the chair collapses beneath him, and with a startled yelp, the goat bastard crashes onto his back. After a moment, he lets out a painful groan and drags himself back to his feet.)

Rezin
See what I mean? That's CHAOS!! You just CAN'T GET AWAY FROM THAT MOTHERF*CKER!!

(Angrily, he kicks the chair out of his way.)

Rezin
Nobody can escape it... not even ME, the Escape Artist of Professional Wrestling!

At ANY time, in ANY place, life can take a sh*t right on your face! And you never see it coming... NEVER...

(After composing himself, he comes back to face the camera.)

Rezin
So what's the point in making plans when you can't control every last aspect of the universe? What's the point in having confidence in yourself when you can't possibly know anything OUTSIDE of yourself may be stronger? Why change and manipulate your life by another's standard, when there's no shame in following your own? Why not just LIVE, doing what one does best, and rolling with the punches?

That's the exact mentality had by one of my tag partners in this match when he stepped into the cage a couple years ago. There was no desire for gold... no desire to rise above the rest... just a desire for blood.

And blood was spilled, night after night, until there was no choice but to put gold around his waist just so he'd stop killing motherf*ckers left and right. Before that night, he was pure animal, rife with predatorial instinct. The minute they put that belt on him, the powers that be tried to tame that animal. He bore the collar and ignored the humiliation it brought him... but just the same, nobody could tame that animal.

For being that much of a carnal and destructive agent of badassedry, people have the nerve to now call him "the Worst World Champion in Empire Pro History."

(He snorts at this suggestion, apparently in disagreement.)

Rezin
But for a man like ANARKY... there can be no greater title. Anarky TRANSCENDS the World Heavyweight Title of Empire Pro. He is, without a doubt, the undisputed ANTI-CHAMPION of professional wrestling.

He said it best himself... the title does not define the man; the man defines the title. Come to think of it, I said the same thing myself, not too long ago. We think alike, and that's cool... but I'm still not sold that Anarky is a TRUE agent of chaos like he claims to be. Someone brilliant and fascinatingly ferocious like ME, in other words. If he was, he would have thrown that belt to the mat the moment the referee handed to him, knowing he had no NEED for it.

He could have, in that moment, become the GREAT DESTROYER of the Empire that I will one day become myself. But that didn't happen... cause he grew a conscience, and decided to start doing what he did not for himself, but for the fans. He grew SOFT... and maybe that's why he allowed a moron like the First to pull the wool over his eyes.

It's also why he allowed himself to be haggled over and over by a punk New Yorker with the Silver Stick or Righteousness rammed up his ass.

Not sideways, either. DIAGONAL, motherf*ckers...

(Dry chuckle... or a cough. It's kind of hard to tell the difference these days.)

Rezin
And on that note...

Seriously, Impulse? Ain't it a little early for you to be passing judgment on people who have done things and been to places that a twerp like YOU can only dream about at this point? When, exactly, did YOU become the guy who declares in a great booming voice what a champion may or may not be?

You're just another assh*le with an opinion... and for the record, I totally c*ckslapped that whole "pot, kettle, black" argument in the face back a few weeks ago. Once again, I'll reiterate it for you: the kettle is too stupid to realize it's a worthless piece of sh*t like everything else on the stove, so the pot is courteously reminding him that he's no different than everybody else.

Seriously, I feel like VOMITING every time somebody says "pot, kettle, black". It HAS to be the most overused saying for the purpose of calling another guy a hypocrite... not to mention, it basically means you're ADMITTING to being what you're accused of being. The accuser already knows he's a hypocrite, but he doesn't give a f*ck, because he's not the one acting like something he's not.

And hey, somebody cross reference for me, but does Ivy McGinnis really take all the credit for coining that phrase? I could swear I hear it all the time in places outside of wrestling...

For that matter... who in the F*CK is Ivy McGinnis, and why would anybody give a F*CK about what Sean Stevens' personal cum dumpster has to write about?

She's the GISELE BUNDCHEN of professional wrestling, and she has had nothing - NOTHING - whatsoever to do with the creation, life, or inevitable DESTRUCTION of Empire Pro! So why in in the name of Cthulhu's ASSH*LE do I keep hearing her name?

(As outbursts finishes, he begins muttering to himself in the way those crazy guys on the street do, and calms himself with another hit off the resin bong.)

Rezin
...where was I going with this again?

OH YEAH, Impulse... and the whole "I'm BETTER THAN YOU in EVERY WHICH WAY" thing. Sorry... got off on a tangent there...

(Let's just be happy he didn't remember use of the word "hipster" this time.)

Rezin
But the reality is, every time I sit down and watch one your promos, I just feel this uncontrollable need to PUNCH MYSELF in the FACE... REPEATEDLY! Life has no meaning if young, educated future of our world are THIS F*CKING STUPID, and destruction is no fun when sheep you slaughter are too dumb to scream.

The fans are won over by the whole Boy Scout image and mentality... but I have to join Anarky in asking, why in the F*CK do these people even cheer you? You're an ELITIST ASSH*LE, Impulse! You don't show a shred of respect for anybody who doesn't even remotely think like you! You have just as much ego, child-like denial, and stubbornness as the people you speak out against!

You are Christian Sands, with shorter hair, on a diet.

You validate yourself based on the belt you've won. But you know what the reality is, Impulse? Dopesmoker left you off easy. That's because he's a soft-hearted f*cking moron. Unluckily for you, I am not.

But Dopesmoker's not here anymore, Impulse. Just your good ol' smokin' and chokin' buddy... REZIN... and if I'd been calling the shots back the first time Randall Knox and Erik Black shared the ring, the present would have turned out much differently.

But maybe I should thank you. Kicking Dopesmoker's ass was all that was needed to break his will. He was a clownish hero to the people... loved by all... but when YOU came, suddenly people began to think differently. When the fans abandoned him, he abandoned himself... and that's when I made my move.

And ever since then, the only reason why you still walk around this federation with that title is because I ALLOWED IT. I WANTED you to hold that belt for a while... show yourself a fighting champion... build up that self-esteem and start feeling confident, believing you've actually MADE IT, and feeling like all that bullsh*t positive reinforcement was finally beginning to pay off.

You say you don't believe me. I say... you don't HAVE to. Those who don't fear me will doubt me at first. I'm counting on that. My success hinges on people not being able to fathom the ocean of motherf*ckery that awaits them when I get into that ring.

I want you to be proud of yourself... be proud of your legacy... because I have this hunch that the look on your face when I DESTROY everything you've ever loved is going to be really, REALLY g*ddamn hilarious.

Because despite that belt, you are NOT better than anybody else. You're just a f*cking kid who's strayed a little too far from his playground. You're a weak, worthless piece of SH*T... just like me. It's easy to act high and mighty and live life like a noble white knight fighting for Truth, Justice, and the American Way when you haven't seen the Bottom. But if you're interested, Impulse, I can send you there. All you have to do is KEEP TALKING.

(Resin hit. The act, not the finishing move. Good time to take a bathroom break.)

Rezin
Moving right along, to another person who likes to measure his dick and compare it to everyone else... let's talk to our Television Champion of the Week... RICH MAHOGANY!!

(He flashes the camera a crooked smile.)

Rezin
Sup Rich? Let me just say, excellent package you got there, and I mean that in a completely honest and heterosexual way.

I'd like to let you know that I've got no beef with you -- or YOUR beef -- on any personal level. You just find yourself in an unfortunate place facing unfortunate circumstances. I'm not talking about this match... I'm talking about your title.

I know you're new, so you probably don't know much about the way things are, but I'll do you a solid this once and fill you in (no homo...): that belt you're carrying is the hot potato of Empire Pro.

I'm just sayin'... not to knock your style, but as long as you carry that title, you aren't going to be seen as anything more than a FAD. Which would be a shame, in my honest opinion.

Why carry the belt, Rich? Ask yourself... do you really NEED it? Don't you think as the ladies drop their eyes from your millionaire smile, pass over your rock-hard pecs and abs, and come down to that magical and mythical place that is your pelvic region... they won't be just a tad put off to be looking at the EPW TV TITLE instead of your illustrious package? Just sayin', you got a boner-fide deal-breaker hangin' there.

We all know that the main attraction to Rich Mahogany is "Little Dick"...

(He suddenly realizes what he just said, and awkwardly clears his throat.)

Rezin
...uh, I assume that's what it's called, anyway. I imagine "Dick" could carry things in ways that would rival a certain pornstar Viking we all once knew... so why not let it carry your career? The Television Title is VIAGRA to Rich Mahogany... the pill, not the late team... and rather than to help you GET UP THERE... the main event, not your dick... it just gives everybody the impression that you ain't got the MOJO to reach your full, natural potential.

So I'll do you another solid... again, no homo... and give you a simple offer. Just walk into that ring at Aggression, lay the belt on the mat, and go back to the locker room. Celebrate your liberation by f*cking anything and everything on two legs. Then go back to what you do best. Have the greatest and most self-fulfilling career you can possibly have. You will become GREATER than the Television Champion. You will become LEGENDARY.

I'm just begging you, Rich... as an equal, and completely hetero admirer... do NOT make me bust that handsome mug of yours for being stupid enough to try and STOP ME.

I only say this looking out for your best interests. We are two brilliant cosmic bodies passing through the void of the universe. But should we be set on a collision course, well... some serious sh*t would go down. Neither of us wants that to happen, so just be cool, and stay the F*CK out of the way of insane, rampant destruction.

Cool beans? Cool beans!

(He pops up the shades and holds up a thumb to the camera, bearing a big Wayne Campbell-style grin. Still, there's a devilish twinkle in his eye... but that could just be the reflecting in his dark pupils.)

Rezin
Well, I guess all that's left are the tag champions... the ANIMEZING DRAGONS~!

Otaku... you're a weird f*ckin' dude, but fortunately, you make up for it by putting up a hell of a high-flying match. All the same... don't let your partner confuse you... you will NEVER by the high-flying sensation that was once "The Sickle"... and you will NEVER be half the tag team champion I was.

As for you, Karl Brown...?

(He pauses a moment.)

Rezin
...you know something, Karl... I can't think of anything sh*tty to say about you right now.

You're a legit veteran... one of the originals LIKE ME. You're probably the only person in this match who will catch that aforementioned Christian Sands reference without having to pore through the Empire Pro show archives. All these years you've been with the fed, you've never shown ego... you've never put yourself above everybody else... you just went into that ring and did your thing, and you did it WELL, and the fans loved you for that and that alone.

If there were more people like YOU in this federation... I wouldn't feel such a compulsive need to DESTROY IT. I sometimes wonder if I -- REZIN -- would even exist.

But unfortunately, you're the last lone relic of a Golden Age that the present crop pisses on without remorse. And they piss on you, Karl, every moment they talk about themselves like they were chosen by GOD to conquer this federation, without ever once mentioning that people like YOU are the reason they even HAVE a federation this great and renown to be conquered.

But look at you now, Karl... Tag Team Championship?

(He shakes his head and laughs with pity.)

Rezin
I realize you probably see it as serving your role in this federation... but I'm telling you right now... you ALWAYS deserved more. The Cosmos just wasn't rolling your way... and now that it's brought me here like a doomsday meteorite, it probably never will.

You can reminisce all you want about the glory days of Blitz and the Cameron Cruise Project... but it's time to leave the year 2007 behind and move five years forward to the present. Tag team wrestling in Empire Pro is a JOKE... and that fact hurts nobody more than me, the FIRST Tag Team Champion of Empire Pro.

Err, the Sickle, anyway...

I've always considered this federation's tag team division my baby... though it grieves me to say I neglected that baby a bit too much. Now it's grown into a mutant, and the only loving thing I can do at this point is euthanize tag team wrestling in Empire Pro for good.

If you and the Super Saiyan try to stand in the way of my destruction... I will find a tag partner, and destroy YOU. Just a fair warning, respectfully given from one EPW veteran to another.

(Tired of standing, he pulls up a sturdy crate, one that he's sure won't collapse under him. Can never be certain of anything though. He takes one more hit off the resin bong and sets it aside.)

Rezin
Now... on paper, this match is four on four. The marketing department will push as the Elite versus the Rebels. But I'm not really looking at it that way. In my eyes, this is every man for himself.

Do you really think I could depend in a backstabbing piece of garbage like Stalker to have my back? Or a mouthy blow-hard like Layne Winters? Not likely. My "tag partners" can go f*ck themselves. They'd rather argue amongst themselves than even fathom the possibility of working together for even a moment.

As allies, I wouldn't trust them further than I can piss. But that's fine... because I have no need for allies in this match. On the other hand, they work perfect as distractions.

I'm just saying... eight guys in one ring, a lot of egos thrown into the mixing pot... and one narcoleptic referee among us. Sooner or later, sh*t's going to hit the fan... the order of the match is going to break down, and CHAOS is going to run free.

And when that happens, one of you... is going to get kicked in their f*cking face.

Nobody can predict when it will happen... but trust me... it WILL happen, because wherever I go... CATASTROPHE and SUFFERING follow...

(He lets out another chuckle that starts dry, but then becomes wet and raspy as it grows into an all-out maniacal cackle. The fit of laughter throws him off balance, causing him to fall flat on his back on the floor. He chuckles a couple more times then presumably passes out. Right after that, we fade to black.)

 

[Stalker]

Counterfeit

V/O: If you didn't know... well, now you know. Have a good day Impulse.

(Static.)

 

[User Poets]

No Frills

You know what the irony is?

I never, ever 'claimed' to be anything but the Marathon Man.

If it comes down to a match of endurance, my track record says I have the upper hand.

If it comes down to matching hold for hold, my track record says I will often have the upper hand.

If it comes down to blow against crushing blow... I'd better get creative or I'm in trouble.

And when it comes down to it, who really knows why the fans cheer for me. I assume it's because I follow my honor and I wrestle harder than anyone else in the game today... but that could be far off base.

It could be because they admire my taste in T-shirts. It could be because I'm always nice to them when I see them out in the real world. It could be because they know if I'm on television it means my hot - as - hell punky/gothy/metal/her own style lady will be at my side and she's candy for the eyes and for the mind.

But I'll tell you what it isn't. It's not because their cheering for me precludes their cheering for anyone I don't think is wrestling to their full potential.

Does freedom of choice exist in Stalker's World, Jason?

If I take issue with something that someone else is doing and I verbalize it, I don't care if my fans want to keep cheering for them. My opinion is my opinion is my opinion and it's no more or less valid than anyone else's.

If you're against flag burning, don't burn a flag. If you're against gay marriage, don't get gay married. If you're against Impulse, don't cheer for Impulse. I respect every one of those decisions as long as they aren't being made by the minority (or the majority) on behalf of everyone on the other side.

If your definition of a 'good guy' is someone who surveys the landscape and automatically and mindlessly supports everyone that the fans support, that's not a good guy.

That's a Stepford.

That's someone who doesn't have any discernable personality of their own, so they wait to see what's popular and jump on the bandwagon after the majority have made their decisions.

I would define integrity as sticking to your beliefs and your convictions no matter how popular or unpopular they are, and not infringing on anyone else's rights to do the same.

Maybe that's why they cheer me, Stalker? Because I don't preach to them?

Because I don't believe that championships are worthless, Rezin?

(How's that for transition?)

I know you're a nihilist and you're looking to destroy this company, one match at a time, but that's where the disconnect takes place.

You see, you're partnered with three men who want to score the winning fall in this match in order to take a Championship Belt - to defend it, not to destroy it.

How will it work when you find yourself in a three - against - three - against - one - against - one situation?

(Because you see, we don't want Rich Mahogany on our team either.)

You've been harboring a lot of anger for a long time, Rezin... I don't think you really want to direct it at Miss Ivy, or at myself, or at or at any other Champion involved in this match, do you?

Who are you really angry at? Erik Black.

Dopesmoker.

They weren't smoking the grotty, disgusting scrapings out of their pipes, were they? They got the really good stuff.

But you're another one, Rezin, who's decided that for some reason, I don't know, because I don't toe the 'expected' line, that I'm the easiest target of all of your opponents.

How's that working out for you?

As far as being better than you in every which way... well...

(Smirk.)

Didn't I prove that before you underwent your transformation?

(Was that below the belt?)

I'm sorry, Rezin. I do actually believe that anyone can beat anyone on any given night - and that being the best wrestler in the company doesn't mean you're always going to win.

Just because I have so far in the Empire doesn't mean that it won't come crashing down here at 64.

But that doesn't make anyone a hypocrite. And if I haven't shown respect to... well... everyone in the Empire except for Dis and Stalker... then what have I been doing?

Before Russian Roulette, how much disrespect did I show Anarky? How much disrespect did I show you in your former identity, Rezin?

Pot, kettle, black.

Feeling queasy?

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Are you dehydrated and sweating from dry heaving yet, Rezin? I can keep going.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

Pot, kettle, black.

At this point I might record myself saying it and playing it on repeat. I mean, if words can do that much damage to you, Rezin... it's the easiest way to make you a non-factor in this match.

"Did Impulse outwrestle you?"

"No, he talked and I threw up."

"...What are you, some kind of puss?"

Choose your response carefully, Rezin. You want to be real, right? Not a counterfeit like Stalker claims I am.

If you want to let the music do the talking, Stalker... I can play that game, too.

My Brooklyn boys have never let me down.

FADE

 

[JLevinson]

Re: No Frills

(FADEIN to a bar we’ve seen a million times before. Drinking at the bar in the corner is Anarky. He sighs and shakes his head. On the wall next to him is a sign which says It has been 72 days since someone told Anarky his career was over, with the number in chalk. He stands up, erases the 72, and replaces it with a 0. He sits back down and takes a swig of his beer.)

ANARKY: “The more things change, the more they stay the same. I mean, gosh… if only Stalker would let me wrestle for a few more years, maybe I could turn it around. But nope. He says it’s over. I’m done. Stick a fork in me. I’m finished.

“And he’s my teammate! Imagine how the other guys must feel!

“Well, except Karl Brown and Otaku, who are just too adorable and nice to spend their time constantly calling my voicemail and leaving disapproving messages. It’s almost like they have something better to do, like define their own legacies. Can you even imagine?

“Karl, it’s been a little awhile, hasn’t it? But I’m guessing you haven’t quite forgotten me just yet. You and I… well… I reckon we don’t see eye to eye, do we. And yet I find it difficult to despise you with all of my spirit.

“After all, you do honor your code. You live by your rules. And you understand as I do that it ain’t the size of the bark, but the size of the bite. Fewer and fewer of us left these days, I suspect.

“But at the end of the day, you’re on the other side of the ring, and I don’t get paid to respect my fellow human beings and their good intentions. Perhaps Rezin is right. Perhaps to create something beautiful we have to destroy it first, and perhaps it has to start with you. I don’t really know the answer to that. The older I get, the less I seem to know.

“I mean, for f*ck’s sake, I’ve got Stalker on my team, and that dude is STILL bragging about what happened to Rocko Daymon. It’s been years. And that’s what he’s basically hanging his hat on every day.

“I remember the first time someone told me I was but a shell of my former self. I think it was probably in the first year of my career, which is a little odd, but, y’know, wrestlers are generally not pretty bright, and Stalker is even less bright than your normal, everyday egomaniac.

“Yes, yes, Stalker, my career is over, I’m a shell of myself, blah blah blah. I’m sure you’re terribly ashamed that Dan Ryan could possibly even consider me in your realm. Perhaps if you ask him really nicely he’ll rip up my contract and tell me never, ever to wrestle again?

“After all, I’m done. It’s over. I might as well pack up my bags and go home, right?

“Also… did you really just show a Limp Bizkit video? On purpose? I mean… c’mon man. I never really used to think you were evil, but for f*ck’s sake, man, have some respect and decency.”

(He smiles and takes another sip of beer before throwing on his leather jacket and going outside for a cigarette as the camera follows him.)

ANARKY: “Strange bedfellows. One man says my career is over. One man says I’m the greatest Anti-Champion of them all.

“I like you, Rezin. And not just because you have a dehabilitating drug problem. But because you see through all the bullsh*t. You realize, as I do, that we are drowning in egomania and worthless hypocrites and liars. And you and I… maybe are the only ones left who can speak truths. How sad for us.

“Unfortunately, I think destroying the titles, while honorable… doesn’t much help the disease. In the end, the titles are just a representation of what is the cancer that is killing us all. The savage egocentrism of this sport. The ridiculous gotcha mentality. It’s worse than the media. People sitting around, picking apart everything everybody else says in the hope of exposing some small inaccuracy.

“There’s no humanity in it. They’re not wrestlers. They’re politicians. They’re glad-hands kissing babies for votes.

“I mean, at least Rich Mohagany is exactly what he is. There is no shame in his game. He is pure ego. He isn’t attempting to prove I’m not a great wrestler because his mind is sufficiently removed from reality already, so in his brain, he doesn’t even need to. He’s already floating on cloud nine, where he’s got his TV title and his 13 inch d*ck and all the women a man could ever want.

“Whether he’s actually the greatest wrestler empirically isn’t important. It is only important that he knows it’s true in his heart and his crotch. And if he has a bad night, well, I’m sure he’ll come up with some excuse because his world doesn’t really need facts in it. It only needs him.

“Which takes us to our good friend… Impulse.”

(He smiles and takes another drag from his cigarette, leaning against the brick building.)

ANARKY: “You know, Impulse… I want to say I expected more from you, but in reality… I didn’t. Your response was predictable. Expected. Obvious.

“Of COURSE you sat around, editing my video, trying to PROVE me wrong. Of course that’s what this is about to you. It’s not really about your code. It’s not really about right or wrong. It’s just about making other people look bad. That’s it. That’s your whole thing.

“A different kind of human being could look at my career, and realize that I have basically mentioned my past titles once in the last two years here and clearly conclude that no, I am not, in fact, defined by my accomplishments. But you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t let that opportunity slip you by.

“So you do a little video magic and voila, you’ve got your campaign video good to go. Vote for Impulse, Best Wrestler of 2012! Anarky is just a fraud… you’ve already shown it.

“I knew you’d fall for it because I know exactly the kind of guy you are. You have no integrity. No honor. No code.

“I knew that the second you started praising First for winning the EPW World Heavyweight Title. The whole boy scout image? Please. You just watched a guy connive his way into a World Title shot and you’re proud of him. You think he’s a shining example of everything right in this industry.

“Me? I go out, night after night, I wrestle guys. I don’t knock out refs… usually. I don’t set up elaborate schemes to win. I don’t attempt to trick my opponents.

“But do you, I’m the bad guy because you don’t like my attitude.

“It’s not that I feel a compulsion to prove anything to you, Impulse. I’m actually pretty happy with who I am. I sleep just fine at night because I live by my own code. Hell, I even spelled it out for you. I literally spent several minutes explaining why I wrestle, and you still ask me why I bother? I mean, do you not even listen? Are you actually too f*cking stupid to understand the words coming out of my head?

“That’s what kills me about you, Impulse. You’re a fraud. You’re a fake. You’re everything wrong with this business.

“Me, I’ve been the same man I have been for years. I get in the ring and I f*ck sh*t up. That’s what I do, and it’s what I’m good at. Like Rezin said, I just got so f*cking good at it that they HAD to put the title on me. I didn’t ask for it. It wasn’t that it was a burden per se, but that it was just something I didn’t really care about.

“So what? Cry me a f*cking river. I don’t owe it to you to be who you think I should be. You’re not my mother. So get f*cked.

“But you still won’t get it. This is all a huge waste of my time. Because you’re just like everybody else. You don’t hear what I say. You hear what you want to hear.

“You think I need to prove myself to you. You think I have to care. You think there can’t be any other reason. Because you can’t understand a man like me.

“I’m going to enjoy this, Impulse. Not because I have something to prove. Not because I care about the title around your waist. Or about being the better man or any of that other happy horse sh*t you pretend to believe in.

“But because you deserve it. Because you are a lie. And you deserve to be exposed.

“And as long as this sport is full of people like you, sneering down from their undeserved high horses, telling everybody else how it’s SUPPOSED to be…

“… there will be a place for me… to slap the self-righteous taste out of your mouth.

“Even if Stalker says it’s over… it isn’t over.

“It’s never over.”

(FADEOUT.)

 

[Stalker]

Somebody Save Impulse

"It doesn't take someone sitting down, editing your videos, to prove you wrong Anarky. You do that to yourself every time you open your f*cking mouth."

(Jason Reeves, same place, same setting. It gets old I know, but he's not the kind of guy to change his scenery.)

Stalker: I don't want to spend the next oh... 10 minutes or so cutting you off at the knees, yet again. You do that to yourself every time words are formed in your brain, travel into your mouth and escape your lips.

One thing that irks me and I must point out is your claims of humility. Your reasoning for not defending the belt, night in and night out was that the trash in the locker room didn't deserve the shot. Why I couldn't agree with your more, except for a few key people, to claim yourself a humble man within the same ten minutes is pretty much a sham. Much like Impulse.

So you can take that bit of info, dissect it and come back to me with whatever you need to.

(Letting out a deep exhale, Jason's face turns into a frown.)

Stalker: I'd rather not beat the issue to death about calling you a fraud, Impulse. But I need to let some more frustrations off my chest about how you carry yourself and your motivations.

You are nothing more then a d*ck who hides behind not cheating so people won't think your a d*ck. I'm amazed by how you can walk around with such a 'Saint' like presence and truly believe it.

That's why you are a fraud. Because you are willing to truly believe you are someone who people should get behind. Your whole claim to being an honorable person, is completely shot to sh*t every time you open your mouth about someone.

Your ego is by far greater then mine, hell it's greater then Anarky's. Both of you idiots claim to be humble and respectful of the profession and what you do. At least I have the balls to say f*ck that ****. I don't give two damn cents about being honorable, or not cheating or being a d*ck to whomever. It simply doesn't affect me, and I don't try to be anything else.

It has to be that ego of yours Impulse, that blinds you, from seeing how much of a jackass you are to everyone else. An ego built like a f*cking pyramid filled with lies. Lies of how not cheating, makes you honorable. How about respecting, or showing people the proper way? Instead of degrading them?

Instead of proclaiming your greatness, solely based off of how you choose not to cheat? How about you show people that they shouldn't cheat, instead of bashing them for it, and claim your greatness above them. F*ck that and F*ck you for being the ****ty little b*tch that you are.

It doesn't matter if the Animezing Dragons got your back or if Rich Mahogany retracts his wishes to stay away from me. No one and I mean no one will be able to stop me from beating the sh*t out of your pathetic face.

I know what you are going to say about how you 'SHOULDN'T' have to show them the way, and that's not your 'JOB'. Well guess what? The choice you made, to be who you are, puts you in the position to be a role model. Role models don't disgrace everyone who they don't agree with. That's why you will never be more then a fraud, until you accept your true self. Your true identity.... and if it takes ME of all people to show you that, then that is what I'll do.

Fake, Fraud, Counterfeit.

Animezing Dragons won't have your back.

Rich Mahogany won't have your back.

We know damn well Layne Winters and Rezin won't assist you.

Who's left? Anarky?

I mean think about it Impulse, regardless of what few good statements you've made about anyone in EPW. Who the f*ck is going to save you from me?

No one.

No one.

No one.

As you are laying, in a pool of blood, below my feet you'll be screaming 'Somebody Save Me'.

But unlucky for you, there is no Clark Kent in this story.

(Static.)

 

[User Poets]

Jedi

(FADEIN...

Lucky 13 Saloon in Park Slope, Brooklyn is its normal, quiet self. For a Tuesday, at least. Weekends, or nights when there's a guest DJ or an event happening, this postage-stamp sized bar is filled to the breaking point, at least, until the police harass the owner.

She's a tiny, rock - hard bundle of dynamite named Melody. Seriously, there is not a stitch of fat on this woman's body, if you start some trouble in her place of business she is ridiculously intimidating.

Twice I've been here on a nondescript weekend night when the health inspector made an unscheduled visit. Twice, Melody has been fined for things as nitpicky and pedantic as a lemon wedge on the floor.

When there's no event planned on a weeknight, however... this place is mostly empty and when I'm in Brooklyn, it's my favorite place to collect my thoughts.

Everyone knows my name at Duffs, so it's always a social scene.

And...)

"There are eight men involved in the tag team match at Aggression Sixty Four, and with that, eight completely different, contrasting opinions as to the agendas and motivations of the other seven that are completely incapable of reconciling with each other."

Well... minus one. I'm pretty sure the Dragons are going to stick to the same story and watch each others' backs, even if they privately disagree with each other. We'll never know.

"One thing that everyone has been wrong on, however... is the idea that their point of view is the correct one while everyone who disagrees is incorrect. There is no right or wrong when it comes to an opinion; only the truly arrogant would consider themselves to be unequivocally correct."

I accept my own share of the blame for the part I played in this mess of a match, but one thing I will pride myself on is the fact that at no time did I present my opinions as anything but that: my opinions.

"Besides the concept of right and wrong... this match has been plagued with bizarre absolutes. The idea that a title reign could be a failure by one man's estimation and the title holder still popular with the fans. The idea that another man could portray himself as a bleak nihilist whose only goal is, essentially, to watch the world burn, while his contemporaries could see bitterness at the limitations that his talent and attitude toward professional wrestling has imposed."

"And a man whose attempt at crossing out all of the hypocritical double talk to expose his partners and opponents for what he believes they truly are is viewed by those he criticizes as a 'fraud.' Because he doesn't conform to the typical definition of what a wrestler typically loved by the fans is supposed to be. Because he doesn't subscribe to the theory of 'us' and 'them' - that the wrestlers that the fans get behind should unquestionably love each other and back each other up at every turn, while the wrestlers that the fans show their disdain towards are the de-facto B Team, always doing the same."

I could bring up how nobody on any side has ever had my back, with exceptions I can count on one hand, but I won't. When a wrestler looks back on his career he should be able to see him rising to the peaks on his own hard work - not just because someone else was on his side.

"I've been accused of undermining the heroes of the Empire because I don't think much of them and are not afraid to say so, but those heroes are not accused of the same."

"Why?"

"Wouldn't it make sense that if one man who gets cheered by the fans is being held to a standard, all of the other men who get cheered by the fans should get held to that same standard?"

"But the one word that I couldn't seem to escape was Stalker McCarthy's continued use of the label 'Fraud.'

McCarthyism, as defined by Kenneth Davis in his book, Don't Know Much About History, is a smear campaign of groundless accusations from which the accused cannot escape, because professions of innocence become admissions of guilt and only confessions are accepted.

"Every time I say that no, I'm not actually a fraud, I'm falling deeper and deeper into Stalker Joe's trap, because why would anyone believe what a fraud says?"

"How's this for a definition shifting without a clutch? I'm a fraud."

A million dollars says that this is the one thing that Stalker Joe will decide I'm telling the complete and total truth about, because it fits his point of view. We are, after all, in Stalker's world.

...

Stalker's world looks a lot like Brooklyn. How's the pizza in Stalker's world?

"I'm a fraud because I'm constantly being told that I'm a poor excuse for a hero. Well, they're all absolutely correct. I'm nothing like what a hero is supposed to be."

"I don't demand overblown entrances to the arenas to pump up my people into a cheering frenzy."

"I don't make a public event of any of the fundraisers and causes I support."

"I don't constantly appear on Page Six or Perez Hilton."

"I don't even own a trophy room."

I held up my glass.

"Look at this... I'm drinking hard alcohol on a school night."

"I'm a terrible role model for the kids in the crowd, and none of them should ever, ever hope to be like me. I hope not, at least - they should want to be like themselves."

"Myself... is all I've ever tried to be."

"And I'm not going to allow the other participants in my Aggression 64 match to pull me into their crap anymore."

(With that, I turned my camera around and focused it on the television above the bar. The horror movie Black Sheep was playing... and yes, we're going to sit here and watch the entire thing.)

FADE

 

[Stalker]

Impulse figured out

V/O: I'm too hungover to really give this much of an effort. So enjoy my presentation.

(The words appear one by one on your screen forming a list.)

Idiotic
Mediorce
Powerless
Unmanlike
Loser
Scumbag
Ego-Maniac

(About 20 seconds after the last word appears, all the other letters except the first of each word disappear. To form the name 'IMPULSE'.)

V/O: Simple but... it does the job. I can't wait for Aggression.

(Static)