Option A: dont wanna work anymore, ever. just ride bike & smoke rocs. // Option B:

[DWoods]

Option A: dont wanna work anymore, ever. just ride bike & smoke rocs. // Option B:

-- LUMP A FEW'A YA, WHUT?

If you wanna know how Joe feels, listen to this. That’s his mother****in’ frame of mind right there! That’s the attitude of a winner, of a champion! Not some galactic-name havin’, butt-hurt *****.

You lost, Nova. You lost. Y’ got sniped, boy. Now beat it! And I mean fer goodz, too!

(FADE-IN: JOE THE PLUMBER at home in Queens, NY, sitting in a shabby recliner, cigarette burns and stank all over it. He casually sips a homebrew, barely acknowledging the camera at first.)

JTP: “Faggots `round `ere wanna shoot these…. these pointless character-building promos… and they put Ol’ Joe to sleep! I don’t do that **** – I get it on with the ****in’ point!

Point: I’m back. I got sick of NFW and went AWOL for a bit. Don’t give a **** what you fans think of me as a result of it, neither. I do what I want, when I want, and if someone tries to tell me otherwise, I punch a hole in their head. Then I use their skull as a bong and SMOKE ME DRUGZ.

**** you, Nova, you broke ***** – broker than Ol’ Joe. Ashy kneed faggot dick guzzling slut FAGGOT. I’ve hated you since beat one and I’ll beat one more cluster of memories out your PRETTY head one more ****in’ time if that’s what it takes, and I fig’r it will!

This ain’t ****in’… Underdog Joe versus the UNBEATABLE SUPERSTAR THAT IS THE RISEN STAR or whateverothergarbageintrobull****yagotstuffedupyourass… This is the UNBEATEN JOE “MAN, MYTH, MONSTER” THE PLUMBER FILTH FIEND GOBLIN versus the busted ass PRIMEate who ain’t been relevant since Ol’ Joe was haulin’ that TV belt around like Linus’ blanket. EASY.

Nawww… I ain’t wavin’ ya off, Nova—on the contrary: I want you in the ring AS SOON AS THE DOCTORS AND THE PISS DETECTIVES WILL GET OFF MY BALLS AND LET

JOE

BE

JOE

Drug addicted but STILL. BETTER. THAN. Y’ALL.

Ha….. ****in’ fools.

The fans are cryin’ on their Internet boards, sayin’ I left them... questioning my work ethic.

I’M A PLUMBER, REMEMBER? I *DIDN’T* QUIT MY DAY JOB!

But Ol’ Joe still hasn’t been pinned or submitted in his career.”

(JOE picks a piece of lint from the arm of the recliner. It gets stuck on some grime on his fingertips but he eventually frees it and flicks it aside nonchalantly.)

JTP: “So now I’m back… 15 additional pounds of Burger King induced chub hanging off my chronic pain riddled body… no big thing, but I just want everyone to know: best shape of my life or not, I’m BACK to SCRAP. I’m like Mario… eating mushrooms, shooting fire, skeeting ice… or maybe I’m more like Bowser… I do like rapin’ chicks in sundresses…

**** IT—I’M EVERYTHING! THIS WHOLE PLACE CAME TO A SKIDDING HALT WHEN REALIZATION KICKED IN THAT I WASN’T GONNA LOSE AND EVERYONE WAS GONNA HAVE TO FEAST ON MY SCRAPS OR THAT MAKEBELIEVE HA-HA-HA-OHHHH-GIVE-IT-TO-THE-AUTISTIC-CHILD BELT THAT REPRESENTS THIS CONTINENT!

ROOK—I KNOW ASPERGER’S WHEN I SEEZ IT, AND BOY, YOU GOT THE ASPERGER’S! SO LET US LEARNING DISABLED MOUTHBREATHERS TEAM UP AND THROW FECES AT THE GAYS!”

(JOE smiles… then waves off the idea.)

JTP: “Orrrr…. I could stick pins in my nuts and wiggle ‘m around like some sick ****! BOTH VIABLE OPTIONS!

I’m gonna save the good TALK for when I get me an opponent, which brings me to the point of this whole thing…

I wanna HURT ONE’A YOU ****S! I WANNA HURT YOU SO BAD!

NOVA—IF YOU’VE GOT THE BALLS, STEP UP AND FIGHT THE MAN THAT’S BEATEN YOU TWICE ALREADY.

STEVENS—IF YOU DON’T POP A BONER, I’LL FIGHT YA, TOO.

DAN ADLER ??? – WHATEVER YOUR STUPID BAKED BEANS NAME IS… I’LL BLOW UP THE SPOT WHERE YOU AND YOUR OL’ LADY PARK YOUR RV… I’ll muddy up my boots and trrrrrrruddddgggeeee around that ****in’ waste o’ money. Thing’s worth more than my whole house… ****in’ OFFENSIVE to Joe!

Continuing on:

CASTOR

V

STRIFE—UGGGGHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!

Waddup, babyboi.

CAMERON—hahahahaha… no…. just no, okay? You’re D-level. And though I live an F-level life with all the skuzbag trimmins’, in the ring I’m A+… or DD… whatever’s better. Whatever the ****in’ metric is. I don’t care.

Someone come at the king.

C’mon!

UUUUUGGGHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!”

(FTB)

 

[Rook Black]

Re: Option A: dont wanna work anymore, ever. just ride bike & smoke rocs. // Option B

ROOK: "Wait, what?"

FADE IN: ROOK BLACK holding a sammich halfway to his mouth. He's staring in complete disbelief.

ROOK: "I ... don't have ... asperger's."

(ROOK slowly puts the sammich down.)

ROOK: "No."

(ROOK looks away as the gears turn in his head.)

ROOK: "No!"

(ROOK's eyes dart back and forth. A chain of future events is unfolding before his imagination.)

ROOK: "NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO."

(ROOK flips a table over.)

ROOK: "You do not get to do this to me! You do not get to establish precedent against my consistency! You do not get to just walk all over my legacy with your filthy disease ridden half-assed presence!"

ROOK: "I am not going to allow you to encroach upon what I have struggled for for so long! With consistency!"

ROOK: "And if you want ANYTHING to do with me, it's not going to happen until I have certified medical professionals attest IN WRITING that you have taken a god damned motherf---ing BATH."

(ROOK twitches.)

ROOK: "WITH SOAP."

(ROOK twitches a little more violently.)

ROOK: "ANTI-BACTERIAL SOAP."

(ROOK's hands clench into fists and shake. He turns red.)

ROOK: "For that matter I want the motherf--ing CENTER FOR F---ing DISEASE CONTROL to VERIFY that you are NOT ABOUT TO CREATE THE 21st CENTURY PLAGUE!"

(ROOK howls in frustration.)

ROOK: "DORCHESTER WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE JUST F--ING KILLED HIM?!? CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?!?"

(Instantly, ROOK calms down like a switch has been flipped.)

ROOK: "This is not the worst thing to happen. There was always a possibility of this nonsense coming to pass, and I will persevere even in this."

(ROOK's calm demeanor is disrupted by another twitch. He shakes it off and resumes an appearance of calm and self control.)

 

[Nova]

Lost His Religion.

(CUTTO: Rolling waves upon the beaches down past Wilmington, NC. NOVA crouches in the surf, clad in a bathing suit and tattered floral-print Hawaiian shirt. The camera zooms in, but he seems oblivious as he scoops a handful of wet sand and watches, through thick black sunglasses, as it drips between the cracks of his fingers. Finally, a cue from behind the camera catches his attention, and he kinda snaps to.)

NOVA: “Well, I wasn’t sure how hard I actually swung that chair. I thought I had it set to ‘LOVE TAP’ but when I watched the playback I thought I could’a maybe eased up a bit…BUT YOU’RE HERE!”

(He stands quickly and raises his hands, splashing water in all directions. Then he stops, his head turning down to focus on the ripples of water emanating out around his legs. He kneels in the water again, as a small wave washes over his chest.)

NOVA: “You’re not my enemy, JOE.”

(As another wave waves over his back, NOVA fumbles in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He finds a soggy, flattened pack of American Spirits and slides a soaked, limp cigarette out of the pack, poking it into his mouth. His lighter is also dripping wet and won’t light, but he doesn’t notice.)

NOVA: “I know you might need a moment to digest that statement after what happened at RELOADED 8…your grand re-entry, spoiled by me swatting you over the dome-piece with the very same steel chair that enacted my unceremonious departure from the Frontier nigh on two-and-a-half years ago…but I assure you, the reason I’m on Cloud Nine about the fact that you’re mobile and semi-articulate as usual, is because I didn’t attack you to put you OUT, man…”

(He scoops one arm down into the ocean and comes up with a hermit crab on the back of his hand. He stares it down as it makes its way up his arm towards his shoulder.)

NOVA: “…Joe, I attacked you to bring you BACK.”

(The hermit crab reaches NOVA’s shoulder and begins climbing up the side of his head. His sunglasses remain in place.)

NOVA: “See, you lost sight of what was important at some point. You can tell tales about the jobs that occupied your time while you were away, the characters – real and imagined – that you met along the way, and it’ll be great.” (Grinning) “I’ll laugh. It'll be fun. You’re a storyteller, Joe. Natural-born.”

(The crab disappears behind his head as NOVA leans in towards the camera, jabbing a finger into the lens, black sunglasses drooping enough to reveal wide, paranoid eyes.)

NOVA: “And you (whispering) aren’t the problem with this place…but nonetheless you made a BIG mistake when you abdicated the throne. I think I see it differently than the rest because I KNOW, Joe. As you so accurately point out it was ME you defeated to earn that TV Title which kick-started your legend. And it was ME you beat to realize your dream of the World Heavyweight Championship…

“But you had to BEAT me, Joe. I took your flabby, incredulously talented ass to the limit, and I made you beat the LIFE out of me in order to hoist that strap over your head. You went on and stomped and groaned your way into position as the Ultimate NFW Champion, and I thought you understood what that meant. I thought the best part about you was that underneath the layers of madness induced both by unglamorous drugs and your body’s constant processing of environmental toxins, you understood and appreciated what we fought over.”

(Taking a would-be drag of his water-logged unlightable butt) “Even though you literally smeared sh*t over the belt, I thought it was the people who deigned to box you in as their marketable product that you wanted to sh*t on, not the essence of the struggle itself…but that’s what you did when you let TROY WINDHAM’S Goon Squad run you out of town. When you let a field of would-be challengers fight over the rights to YOUR strap. You sh*t on OUR STRUGGLE, Joe. And you lost your connection with the Soul of this place.

“I didn’t choose to leave. And it took me longer to get back than I planned. But I’m back now. And I’m not here for you, but if it’s me you want, you know I’m game. ‘Cuz I think another reason you disappeared is that there wasn’t anyone else after I was gone who was willing to go out to THAT PLACE with you, to step into BEYOND and let go of everything else.”

(NOVA yanks the wet cigarette out of his mouth and shakes his head, then tosses it into the ocean. He rocks back and forth on his feet, then grins widely, rubbing his head.)

NOVA: “You could notch a million wins over me, Joe, and each time I’d be back to knock down the rotten wall and DANCE in the MAGGOTS with you. And either way, maybe we’ll meet again soon enough. My goal isn’t to stand around knee-deep in the ocean issuing prophetic rants like a f*ckin’ idiot. I’m back because I want it all, all over again…”

(FADETOBLACK.)

NOVA: “…and I want it more than you.”