Re: Round 2: "COOL" Cancer Jiles vs. "Simple Sensational" Sean Edmunds
“How.. quaint.” His voice carried through the hallway down to where the camera sat… waiting. “KARLA!” he yelled, “Have you seen this?”
“Simply Sensational” Sean Edmunds walked into view of the camera, his laptop in hand, and carried it to the kitchen table. It’s morning, obviously, as the former Pan-Pacific and Britannia Heavyweight champion is in a bathrobe.
“Seen what?” the camera turned as Karla stood over the stove flipping an egg over. She glanced quickly at Edmunds for his response and turned her attention back to breakfast. Suddenly she snapped her head back and tossed her hands in front of her, as if they’d suddenly mask her presence. “Jesus Christ, Sean!”
Karla grabbed a half-used paper towel roll and flung it in the camera’s general direction… it missed.
“Oh please, it’s not like anyone’s going to see this,” he chuckled, an exaggerated wink to the camera soon following. “Anyway,” he continued, “I was talking about the little diddy ‘COOL’ Cancer Jiles put up yesterday.”
“I didn’t see it,” came the response from behind the palm. “Is it worth watching?”
“Meh,” he leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. “Random musings, mostly. He must think he gets paid by how much random airtime he eats up or something.”
“Ohhhh, he’s one of THOSE guys,” she rolled her eyes, momentarily dropping her guard and her hand… “Sort of like a Shawn Hart-lite?” She asked, jabbing the air with the spatula.
“With a little bit of King Krusher “sucks for you-dash-to-be-you-dash-blah-blah-blah” thrown in, too.”
She gasped. “Hart/Krusher mix? What the fu
ck is going on in this tournament?”
Edmunds smiled wide as the hair in the bun tied behind her head began to escape and drop down into random patches on her forehead. She raised an eyebrow and then looked into the camera. “For Christ’s sakes..” And there goes the hand again.
“You’re about to get sunny-fu
cked-up eggs instead of sunnyside-up if you keep filming, Sean.”
“OK, OK,” he reassured her, “I’ll get back to it later… let me just turn it o…”
V. W. F.
The banner hung on the wall. Albeit a bit crooked. With production tied up at the moment getting the latest show on air, I suppose one could forgive the slight oversight.
Well, not Edmunds. The man known as “Simply Sensational” walked in front of the camera in full wrestling attire, his already-short-so-it’d-be-pointless-to-get-a-haircut-again blonde hair gleaming in the light. Karla stood next to him, much improved from her morning get-up.
“Hm.” He looked at the banner.
“It’s not straight.” Thanks Captain Obvious.
“Hm.” He looked at Karla. Then the banner.
She looked at him. Then the banner. Then at him.
“Oh, c’mon, really?”
Edmunds raised an eyebrow and nodded at the banner. Karla let out a loud sigh as she sauntered up to the low-hanging side of the banner, grabbed the corner and lifted it up so it evened out.
Yep. He’s getting sunny-fu
cked-up eggs tomorrow, too.
After a few seconds of standing in silence, Edmunds nodded to the person behind the camera.
“Going in five … four..”
Three. Two. One. The red light lit up in sync with Edmunds’ grin.
“Second verse, same as the first.” He took a deep breath, his eyes disappearing inside his skull somewhere. “I mean, seriously, how many times are people going to stand there and tell me that I’m going to lose … all the while maintaining a straight face? First it was Jackson. Mr. ‘I’m Gonna Face Cobra in the FINALS!’” He brought his hand in front of his mouth. “Oops! Sorry, Jackson. I didn’t mean to mess up your plans!” A smile. “But you’d think, after seeing how Jackson failed on his promise to take me out of this tournament, that maybe, just MAYBE, Cancer Jiles would go a different route.”
Silence. Edmunds stood completely still and looked into the camera before his head slowly turned from side to side.
He looked above him.
“Jackson tried to paint me as a generic narcissistic everyman. Cancer Jiles just thinks I suck.” More shaking of the head. “And just like my so-called opponent in the first round, Jiles spends more time talking about random bullshi
t than anything else. Black dildos? You love Bruce Willis? THIS is what you’re trying to peddle to me?” Edmunds tossed his hands in the air. “I don’t get it. I just don’t.”
“Maybe that shi
t works for his matches in DEFIANCE?”
As she talked the banner bobbled up and down; Edmunds’ head with it.
“That would explain a lot,” he smirked. “But let’s face reality here, Jiles. You’re in for a rude awakening… Round Two you’re going to find out that no matter how many times and ways you find to insert COOL into a sentence, it won’t help you pin my shoulders to the mat.” He paused. “I’m not some second-rate DEFIANCE hack, Jiles. I know my way around a ring better than everyone else in this tournament. I know what I want, and I’ll do anything,” he smiled and tossed a glance Karla’s way, “ANYTHING… to make sure that I go on to the third round.”
He glanced around at the smattering of people behind the camera, his eyes tracing their outlines.
“Just like I single-handedly ended Jackson’s dreams of being the Ultratitle victor,” he planted his hands on his hips, “Your experimental journey to become something MORE … something,” he pondered for a half-second, “important… has a set expiration date.” A shaft of light appeared directly over Edmunds, illuminating him. “Round 2. Versus Sean Edmunds.”
Karla’s arms wobbled in the background as the pressure of holding the banner straight began to get to her.
“We’re fundamentally different, you and I.” He nodded in affirmation. “You think that by spewing that ADHD shi
t you can confuse your opponent into submission.. and I’m sure with the level of,” a snarky sneer, “talent,” airquoted of course, “in DEFIANCE that works out quite well for you.”
“Let’s wrap it up,” Karla pleaded. Edmunds put a finger as if to say “one more second.”
“But I’m not one of your bush-league buddies.” He smirked. “I’m not COOL.” A quick raise of the eyebrows. “I don’t need to be.”
The banner wobbled faster now as Karla’s face reddened in desperation.
“All I need to be, Jiles,” he paused, “is better than you. And THAT, my friend, I got in spades.”
Edmunds flexed in front of the camera.
“Don’t adjust your television sets,” a huge smile, “I am
The red light on the camera flickered before disappearing.
“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.” Karla yelped as she dropped the side of the banner. It crashed.
“Don’t worry babe,” he cooed as he pulled her into his arms, “I’ll make it up to you when we’re named the Ultratitle Champion.”
She couldn’t look into his baby blues and stay mad.
“You owe me.”
“What else is new?”
The two hooked arms and walked off the set. The camera focused on the hanging VWF banner before fading to black.