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TV Title Match: Stephen Morgan vs. Nemesis

SouthernBoy

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Gonna Fly Now

{{...FADE-IN: The private gymnasium of "Stupendous" Stephen Morgan. We see Morgan in the middle of a wrestling ring sparing with another guy. Morgan's dressed in grey workout sweats with a white headband. The GLCW TV Title is strapped around his waist as he wrestles. Morgan picks up the jobber, and drives him to the mat with a body slam. He then brings him to his feet, whips him into the turnbuckle and charges in. The jobber lowers his shoulder for an elbow to the gut, but hits the title belt Morgan has around his waist. The jobber howls out in pain and exits the ring...}}

MAN: "THAT'S IT! I'm NOT wrestling this guy anymore if he's got this title belt strapped around his waist!

{{...Morgan's workout "team" approach, with one guy, older and smaller than the others, out front. He's holding a stop watch and a clip board and sort of looks like MICKY from Rocky...}}

MIC: " Whadda ya' mean you ain't wrestlin' him anymore? This HERE is the GLCW TV Champion meat-head n' yer bein' paid QUITE alot for this gig.

MAN: " Forget it, you can keep the money. I think I broke MY ELBOW! "

MIC: " You come back here NOW! We need you ta' help MISTAH' Morgan on his SPEED! He's gonna' EAT LIGHTNIN' n' CRRRAP THUNDER I tell ya'!

MAN: " You guys need help. "

{{...The jobber exits as Morgan gets out of the ring and walks up next to Mick...}}

SM: " So Mick, what do we do now? "

MIC: " I gotta' date. "

SM: " Yo Mick, you said women weaken legs. "

MIC: " Yeah, well at my age it don't matter. I'll see YOU tomorrow. We're gonna' chase some chickens. "

{{...MIC exits as Morgan gets a confused look on his face. He walks over to a table and grabs a water bottle. He takes a drink, then wets a towel with the bottle and starts polishing what looks like blood off the TV Title belt...}}

SM: " No respect. No respect for the belt and what it means. I mean, to bleed all over it like that. {{...shakes his head...}} It's just disrespectful. "

{{...Morgan finishes cleaning the belt, then unstraps it from his waist and puts it over his shoulder. He leans back against the ringpost and wipes some sweat from his brow...}}

SM: " Funny isn't it Nemesis. It's come full circle. Just a few months after you blatantly CHEATED me out of a shot at the TV Title, look at where we are now. I'M the champion, I'M the MAN that put his BLOOD, SWEAT and TEARS all on the line to get what I wanted. This title {{...pats the belt...}} means that I'm the BEST. "

" Yeah, I know that SOME might say that the GLCW World {{...a buzzer sounds from off screen and Morgan gets a pained look on his face...}} uh, HEAVYWEIGHT title might be the companies most prestigious belt, but let's take a look at the men wearing each one. First, you got a steroid pumpin' FREAK boy who's has to CHEAT to win...then you have ME, a man who's sacrificed it ALL for the fans of this company. A man, who even though the fans boo me, has fought to make this company a place they can be proud to spend their weeks paycheck. If it wasn't for all the corruption in this company, I'd have BOTH belts, but in reality, I only need one, THIS one. Because THIS is the ONE that means something. THIS is the belt that hasn't been tarnished by Maelstrom and his crony front office buddies. THIS is the belt the REAL man fight for. "

" Which makes me wonder WHY on God's green earth did YOU get a shot? "

" I mean, I thought you were dead. Didn't you die after you jumped off that fire escape at Ringlords? {{...shakes his head...}} Coulda' SWORN you did, or at least you were in a coma or something. Well, never mind all that now, I'm SURE that you're shaking in your boots at the thought of having to face me in the current state you're in. I mean, you've GOT to be hurt...right?? Anyway, I'm going to be a man about this Nemesis, I'm going to offer you the chance to BACK OUT now. You can save some dignity, and perhaps your career. Because if you come in that ring against me at Riptide, and you aren’t ONE HUNDRED FIFTY FIVE percent, then you're going to get hurt. It's just that simple. You're going to loose, and you're going to get hurt. "

" You think about it my man, think REAL hard about what you want to do here. Because even though I know deep down inside you're scared, I know you WANT to act all tough and come to the match and HOPE I take it easy on you. NOT gonna' happen! I'm a CHAMPION, wrestling DOWN to my opponent is no longer an option. I've got a reputation to live up to, and millions of fans to please. I'm not risking MY position for a guy that isn't smart enough to see the writing on the wall. "

" So you let me know huh? And just so you know, if you have ANY delusion of grandeur about actually taking this title from me, well you can just {{...smiles...}}

"Keep dreaming."

{{...FADE OUT as "Gonna' Fly Now" from Rocky cues up...}}
 

PhantomZ

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Uproarious Slapstick Hijinx

FADE IN...

(Darkness. The GLCW banner is spotlighted in the background, and a shadow of a man is revealed, sitting in the darkness. He speaks...)

NEMESIS: Stephen Morgan, congratulations on acquiring the Television title. A feat that many, including myself, good not accomplish. Congratulations on injuring another sparring partner, even if only for comedic purposes...

(The shot lights up, revealing Nemesis, clad in a suit with a white, collared shirt. He continues)

NEMESIS: And yes, you do have to face me again, Morgan. Surprisingly, you're not the only one who's curious to know why I have been chosen to face you in your first defense. Also, you're not the only one who isn't too keen on this opponent in particular. We've been down this road Morgan... a few times. Why say "what's one more?" when you can just make the last meeting, the only one that matters?

As I was saying... your comedic performance in your promo. The whole... training sequence. I was shocked when "Eye of the Tiger" wasn't blaring, and there wasn't a montage of you running up some stairs. But I suppose that your promo is more a reflection of the life you actually lead. You don't actually "do" much of anything. You didn't injure your poor sparring partner... your belt did. You didn't really beat Jarod Poe... those ropes did. You point out my fallacy of a win over you a while back... and yet you're so quick to forget the tactics used to get that belt... funny.

(The light around Nemesis gradually grows brighter. His facial expression is now more visible, and his is one of stoic seriousness.)

Another thing that's side-splitting is your take on the Heavyweight title. Now, I suppose there could be some contest if you two had never faced each other... but you have. And you lost. So in reality, not that the belt itself makes the man, but the man holding that belt... that one that you're not holding... beat your ass. And he made it look easy.

(He cracks his neck, and his face returns to the grim stare.)

I'm not dead, Morgan, unfortunately for you. As easy as that would make things, it simply is not the case. Yeah, the PPV certainly cleaned my clock, and the Pyrrhic victory at Massive Assault cost me a shot at the heavyweight strap. I'm better now... perhaps not at my best, but I'll tell you what Morgan... you give me a good reason to give it my all out there. The simple truth is... you're like a sick joke. Funny, when you just take all the gaudy surface texture, but when you really think about it... when you really look at what's going on... you're disgusting. Seeing you with that belt... disgusts me. It turns my stomach and twists it up in knots. Apparently the only thing about you that doesn't make me laugh out loud is the thought of you carrying that belt for another day after this match. Doesn't matter how clean and shiny you keep that belt... the tarnish of the wearer shines through.

So... keep paying off your jobbing partners to build up your ego and sense of accomplishment... keep on hiring the Viagra-pumped "Mick" double for your zany promo-outtakes, and keep imagining this being some easy cakewalk for you. It wasn't before, and it won't be now. Enjoy the good times, and enjoy lying on your own behalf, preserving the fragile existence of your current state of mind... because at Riptide, your dreams of glory, fans, and pride are gonna be shattered.

I'm not gonna rant on about how hilarious you are, because everyone already knows it... save maybe for yourself. But something tells me any talk of mine wouldn't be able to pierce the stockade of illusion you have of yourself, built up around your head.

So keep "training," Morgan... because I'm tired of laughing. And don't forget to bring that title to the ring, because it's the only thing that's gonna wipe the smile off my face before that opening bell…

(The lights go out, and all that is seen is the GLCW logo, lit-up on the back wall.)

FADE OUT.
 

SouthernBoy

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You won't be laughing soon enough

{{...FADE-IN: "Stupendous" Stephen Morgan is walking through a Circuit City. He's dressed in khakis pants and a red Polo shirt. The GLCW Television Title is strapped around his waist. As he passes people, they stare at the belt and shake their heads. Morgan gets to the TV Section and walks over to the little video camera that is projecting images up on the screens. Morgan adjust the camera on his face and begins to address....nobody really...}}

SM: " Greetings masses. I appear before you today so that you can take the opportunity to be a part of something special. I, YOUR TELEVISION champion, the man of the people, the man that everyone with a TV adores and wants to be like...I, STUPENDOUS Stephen Morgan am here to answer your questions, sign autographs, or, in extreme cases, perhaps even provide you ladies with the thrill of your young lives. That's right, I've come down to YOUR level...to the place where you BUY the Televisions you watch me on, to become one of the pe..."

{{...Suddenly a Circuit City manager and two employees grab Morgan by the shoulders and begin escorting him from the building. CUT-TO: Outside the Circuit City. Morgan stands in front of his new, gold HUMMER. His hair is a little out of place and his shirt is partially untucked....}}

" That just goes to show you how BAD you people need me. You don't realize what you have. I, STUPENDOUS Stephen Morgan, the CHAMPION of the PEOPLE that watch Television, decided to lower myself and associate with the "common" man, and look what happens. Two pimple faced geeks and a fifty year old with a 3rd grade education tell ME that I've got to leave. Hey, {{...shrugs...}} your loss. Not like I'd ever be caught DEAD in a place like that anyway. "

" No matter. I've STILL got an audience. Yes, {{...points to the camera...}} YOU out there in TV land. You, MISTER couch potato....dust off those two day old sandwich crumbs on your wife beater t-shirt and listen CLOSE to YOUR champion...because YOU can help me. "

" That's right you. I'm currently booked in a match with a former "arch-rival". A man, I've humiliated in the wrestling ring time and again...a man, who's only method of getting anywhere in this sport is CHEATING. Yes, you know who I'm talking about. Nemesis. Now of course I don't need your HELP in defeating him, but UNDERSTANDING him. See, you're on his level. The intelligence factor is pretty much a wash, so I'm counting on some of you, who perhaps have a rich uncle or something, to let me know just where the HELL Nemesis gets off talking to me like that? "

" Nemesis...don't you HAVE a TV? If so, then I'm YOUR champion too. You can throw insults at me all you want, but the FACT remains. I won this belt FAIR and SQUARE! Can I help it if that pond scum of a referee got in my way causing me to entangle my feet in the ropes while pinning Poe? No. If the referee thought it was unfair, he would have DISQUALIFIED me Nemesis. In fact, right after the match, he apologized profusely for getting in my way and REASSURED me that in NO WAY did my feet being ENTANGLED in the ropes give me any advantage in pinning that no talent FORMER champion. "

" See, I know what you're doing here Nemesis. You're trying to get under my skin by throwing out all these WILD accusations. You're TRYING to get me all riled up so that I'll make a mistake and possibly give you a CHANCE in beating me. {{...laughs...}} Listen buddy, I could make TEN mistakes and STILL beat you. This isn't some falls count anywhere MESS or some Battle royal, this is ONE on ONE, INSIDE that wrestling ring, inside MY wrestling ring. And NOBODY, especially YOU, can take my belt away from me in MY ring. "

" Ask Maelstrom if you think it's possible. I gave him ALL, hell MORE than he could handle, and the ONLY reason I'm not standing here in front of you today with the GLCW WORLD {{...that buzzer again...}} DAMMIT!! uhhh....HEAVYWEIGHT title strapped around my waist is because he BLATANTLY cheated. Check the tape. It's all there. "

" But that doesn't REALLY matter now does is Nemesis. All that matter is this {{...pats the TV Title still around his waist...}} belt. THIS is what it's ALLLLLL about. This is why...

{{...Suddenly the window rolls down in the Hummer and MICK, sticks his head out...}}

MICK: " YOU CAN'T WIN NEMESIS! "

SM: " Go back to sleep Mick, I'll be done in a second. "

{{...MICK mumbles something unintelligible and rolls the window back up. Morgan smiles and continues...}}

SM: " I've given up on the fact that you'll see the light and just quit. So Nemesis, be prepared for what's going to happen to you at RIPTIDE. I'm not going to settle for just taking two out of three, I'm going to HUMILIATE YOU, I'm going to take your PRIDE and stomp all over it with my thousand dollar wrestling boots. You're NOTHING Nemesis, and at RIPTIDE, I prove it. And if you don't think so..."

" Keep dreaming. "

{{...Morgan gets in the HUMMER and drive off almost running an elderly lady off the road. FADE OUT...}}
 

PhantomZ

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Somone Wet Themself Already

FADE IN…

(The green glow of night-vision. A bright rectangle of white light is the main subject of the shot, until we pan to the right. A large theater, filled to capacity with patrons, toting complimentary notebooks, popcorn and beverages from the concession stand. The lot of them have lukewarm expressions, waiting expectantly for the feature presentation to begin. Others are stuffing their faces, while still others are fidgeting with various notebooks and pens. But first, a familiar voice comes over the P.A. system.)

V/O VOICE: Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to thank you for participating in this private showing. Please feel free to jot down notes as the feature presentation for the evening plays out. Thanks again, and without further ado…

(The screen pans back to the white screen, and the numbers “5,””4,””3,” and “2” show up in succession, common countdown fashion. The camera then pans back to the audience, still writhing in anticipation for the feature to begin. While focusing on the audience as a whole, as well as on individual’s in particular reactions, another familiar voice is heard from the screen…)

“Greetings masses. I appear before you today…”

(Faces in the audience immediately change from anticipation and lukewarm expressions to warm smiles. The video continues.)

“…That's right, I've come down to YOUR level...to the place where you BUY the Televisions you watch me on, to become one of the pe...”

(The audiences giggles loudly, and audibly as the video continues with the sounds of shuffling from the screen. Many patrons write in their notebooks. One guy is laughing very loudly and annoyingly after the socially-accepted amount of time for laughter, and a young lady beside him hits him in the arm as the video goes on.)

“…You, MISTER couch potato....dust off those two day old sandwich crumbs on your wife beater t-shirt…”

(The audience again giggles, perhaps visualizing the clichéd image of a man sitting on his couch in a stained wife-beater shirt. Or perhaps they lived through a similar experience earlier in the day. Who’s to know for sure?)

“…I won this belt FAIR and SQUARE…”

(The entire audience erupts in laughter. That guy from before is laughing incredibly obnoxiously, and he falls out of his seat, pounding the floor with his hands. People begin scribbling in their notebooks with huge grins on their faces. They look up frequently from their writing, so as to not miss a second of what’s on the screen.)

“…so that I'll make a mistake and possibly give you a CHANCE in beating me (laughter)…”

(The one obnoxious laugh let’s out briefly, but quickly turns to an audible “Huh?” The rest of the audience just has a curious looks on their faces. Some talk to one another, perhaps asking if they had missed something. Another voice, one of an older man, pops in off the screen…)

“YOU CAN’T WIN NEMESIS”

(The crowd once again goes berserk in side-splitting hijinx. Once again, furious writing, and continuously looking back on the screen so as not miss a sweet second of the video being shown. The rest of the feature plays, a few more small giggles here and there, and a bit more laughter when the sound of screeching tires and the cursing of an old woman is heard. The light from the screen goes out, the audience applauds, and abuzz, talking amongst themselves about what just happened. Many of them are still writing, and many who hadn’t been writing throughout the feature, have picked up their pens now. The familiar voice from the beginning comes on the P.A. once again.)

V/O VOICE: Again, I would like to thank you for participating in this exclusive screening. Please take this time to jot down anymore you’d like to add to the forms in your provided notebooks, finish consuming your complimentary beverages and popcorn, and please exit safely through the two doors in the back of the theater. Be sure to drop your forms off at the front desk, and feel free to keep the notebook as our free gift to you. Many thanks again.

(The crowd finishes up with their food, drink, and notes. They exit in a jovial fashion, most still donning their grins and many still chuckling to themselves or friends about their favorite parts in the video…)

CUT TO:

(Our hero sitting at a desk, dressed in a white-collared shirt as he takes off a gray tie and unbuttons the top button. He cracks his knuckles, and then opens a large manila folder filled with documents. He eyes the camera with quick, flashy smile, and proceeds to sift through the papers. He organizes them into two piles, one only a few pages a high, and the other looking like a full ream of paper. He looks up at the camera again, this time with a more “professional” expression on his mug. It however quickly fades into one which can only be described as “Hollywood-elation.”)

NEMESIS: Stephen Morgan… congratulations. We have just finished our exclusive screenings of your latest promo, and we currently have two networks in a bidding war, both green-lighting the pilot of your VERY OWN sitcom. It appears as though the target audience of 18-49 thinks you’re a riot. (looking through a separate binder of documents entitled “Demographics”) You’re even a hit with kids AND the elderly. If you see here (pointing to the small pile of papers), these are the ONLY five people who didn’t think you were very funny.

(He lifts one paper from the small pile, and holds it up to the camera. It is nothing but a drawing of an unhappy face, and the words “Die, Die,” written in scribble-letters.)

And we can take this one out, because it turns out some disgruntled AAW employee found his way into our screening studio. And this one (holds up another) was written by someone claiming to be a relative… or maybe you owed him money… or something. (Throws the rest of the small piles in the garbage) Regardless, we’ve got a HUGE opportunity on our hands. I don’t think anyone has seen such positive test screenings since… well, I’ll leave a professional like yourself to make the cliché AIDS joke. Anyhoo… if your pilot tests as well as these screenings did, you’ll be HUGE! I’m not just talking eight-figures… I’m talking yachts, private islands, dinner with royalty, spin-offs, syndication, cartoon special, lunch boxes, THE WORKS! The SKY is the limit for you! My God, you’ll make a FORTUNE! No more having to work your “comedy act” on the road… er, I mean, your “wrestling career.”

You see Stephen… you FINALLY have what you’ve been begging for… an AUDIENCE! And one that LOVES you, AT THAT. They can’t get enough of your hilarity, it’s like a moth to the flame, YOU KNOW WHAT I’M SAYIN’ BABY?! No more having to imagine rivalries… no more “let’s pretend” games where you sink so deep into character that it actually sounds like you ALMOST BELIEVE the dribble your spewing out left and right. You’ll do the cross-over between wrestling and the comic mainstream that Andy Kaufman himself couldn’t even accomplish! And people consider him a GENIUS! Imagine what they’ll consider you… WOW! Now, just listen to some of these sheets filled out by those who saw your promo…

(He lifts up sheets from the bigger pile, and reads them off…

Timmy from Omaha writes… “Amazing, I have never laughed so hard in my life. It’s like he doesn’t even realize how much of a schmu…” (improvising) sh…smash hit he’s going to be! Yeah… And Sara from New York says… “Stephen Morgan is the first person to make me wet my pants since I was held up in the Bronx!” Er…um… Joshua from Baton Rouge says… well, I can’t read his Cajun gibberish but I’m sure it’s great stuff… and one more… Andrew from Orlando says “This guy needs to have a show on television, NOW. I’ve never heard of him before, but he is funnier than Andy Dick AND Carrot Top! WOW!” (holds up the large stack and thumbs through them) Just some of the great feedback we’ve been…

(The phone rings, and Nemesis holds up his index finger, putting the camera on hold.)

NEMESIS:… Hello?... Hey, how are you, baby!? I see…

(Nemesis smiles at the camera, and then turns in his swivel chair so his back is more toward the lens.)

NEMESIS: …yeah… I see. Oh, no, I understand…. Yes, of course….

(His voice continues to grow more and more somber…)

NEMESIS: Yes, I understand… yeah, these things sometime happen… thanks for calling, caio.

(He turns around once in his chair, spinning completely back until he’s facing the camera. His excited expression is lost on a depressed one, as though the whole world was in his hands, and now lies shattered at his feet.)

NEMESIS: Oh my… Stephen… I’m sorry…

(He shakes his head, and almost sounds like he lets out a soft sob…)

NEMESIS: I just spoke to the network head… he wants MICK TO STAR IN THE SICTOM AS WELL!!!! ISN’T THAT FAB-U-LICIOUS!!!

(Obviously, the sadness has been blasted away by the return of “Hollywood-elation.”)

NEMESIS: This is gonna be HUGE! And to think, I was the one who inspired that hilarious promo… wow.

(The “Hollywood-elation” quickly fades into an expression we’re more accustomed with on Nemesis… stoic.)

NEMESIS: You really are a riot Stephen… and now you have an audience that WILL actually care what you have to say. I figure, if you’re not gonna listen to me… maybe I should let you know what others thought of your promo… I really enjoyed their comments… didn’t you? I hope this promo finds you well, and perhaps you’ll respond with some witty joke regarding my sexuality? Do as you wish, but if you think that Riptide is gonna be like running down some old lady, I suggest you wake up. The simple truth is… being asleep at the wheel has its disadvantages… but dreaming in the ring is something else all together. Pinch yourself, Morgan… or you may just be unpleasantly jolted back to reality, courtesy: “the Wrath”…

FADE OUT.
 

SouthernBoy

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If I can be serious for a moment

{{...FADE-IN: "STUPENDOUS" Stephen Morgan is standing in front of a GLCW backdrop. He's dressed in a "Hawaiian" shirt with bright blue shorts and tennis shoes. His black sunglasses shield his eyes from the fake sun....}}

"STUPENDOUS" Stephen Morgan: (Yawns) " You know Nemesis, satire is definitely NOT your strong point. I find your ATTEMPTS at entertaining quite boring and moronic, but then again, that's what I've come to expect from a Nemesis promo. "

" Now then, since you obviously have some sort of issue with me taking my message to the PEOPLE, then I'll concentrate simply on YOU. Right here in this studio, in front of this boring backdrop, with this weak lighting and poor ventilation, I'm going to address YOU Nemesis. Even though my plane leaves for a weekend at the beach house in THIRTY minutes, I'm going to come out here, in front of you, in front of MY PEOPLE, and address the problem you seem to have with me Nemesis. "

" You see, I've thought long and hard about this and I finally see what you're problem is. I finally see why it is you HATE me, why it is with every promo you grow more and more irritated. You ready for this Nemesis? Because I have a feeling you don't even know it's there. But it is my friend, it's lurking behind that brave exterior you put forth....yes, it's starting to rear it's ugly, green head and pretty soon, you won't be able to contain it anymore. Yes, of course I'm talking about ... "

" Jealousy. " (smiles)

" You're jealous Nemesis. You sit there and stew in your own juices because you KNOW that I have you outclassed in every way. I'm a better wrestler than you....proved by the fact that I DEFEATED you in our only "fair" match. I'm the champion of the PEOPLE that watch TV, I'm the MAN they look up to...I'm in the position you've ALWAYS wanted to be in your entire career. I'm holding the belt you don't have the talent to posses and it's eating at you. I have more money than you, I have more brains than you, and yes...I'm even funnier than you. In fact ... "

" Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him what? I bet you don't know Nemesis. It made him a ... "

" A super callused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis. "

{{...Morgan bursts out in laughter. He laughs for about ten seconds slapping his knee and really making a big scene. Finally, he composes himself and continues...}}

" Seriously though Nemesis, you just don't get it, do you? No, I'm not talking about the joke, I'm talking about this match. You seem to think that you actually stand a chance. You're living in a little dream world where I'm just a imbecile who can't stand up to you. Do you REMEMBER our matches? Did you SEE what I did to Maelstrom and Rabesque in that tag match? If not for Ash having 105 degree temperature, we'd have WON that match? But you just don't SEE that do you? {{...shakes his head...}} Well until you come back from dream-land Nemesis, I've really had enough of you. You're boring me. So unless you've got something different to say, I'm THROUGH talking to you...and you can just ... "

" Keep Dreaming. "

{{...FADE OUT...}}
 

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