(FADEIN to a dimly lit bar, where Anarky sits at the bar, drinking a Sierra Nevada. The bar is otherwise empty. The talking heads on a fuzzy TV in the corner are outraged at the recent acquittal of a young woman in Florida.)
ANARKY: “Legend.
“The word’s been getting’ thrown around a lot lately. I guess that’s to be expected in anything called the P* Wrestling Classic. A lot of old names. I wish I could say old friends, but let’s face it… we aren’t exactly in the business of making friends, are we.
“I don’t even really know what it means. Not in this business. Not when people will bend over backwards to avoid offering even a tiny amount of respect for anything anybody has ever accomplished. Because it doesn’t fit their egocentric need to imagine the universe as something meant to glorify them and remind them of their importance.
“And look at me, rambling again…
“Maybe we’re both too old, Joey. I might not quite be in your realm of age, but let’s face it… both of us have probably looked at ourselves in that mirror and had to ask ourselves that simple, undeniable question.
“How much do I have left?”
(He takes a long swig of the beer and contemplates it for a moment.)
ANARKY: “Will I even know? Will I find out in that ring, when I’m a step late, a dollar short? Or will I be punch drunk, like Muhammed Ali, the last one to know that it’s too late, out on my feet, a walking punchline of who I used to be.
“But I guess you’ve moved past all that, haven’t you, Joey. You are a man consumed. A man who seeks vengeance. And the limits of your own body and its age mean nothing to you.
“Me… I’m just an obstacle. A well-paid, high-billed obstacle, it seems, but an obstacle nonetheless. And though you seem content to lull me into complacency, claiming you barely stand a chance against me, I know better.
“I know what desperation does to a man. I know how far the desire for revenge can bring you. And don’t think for one second that I’m going to underestimate you or everything you’ve learned in the last… what, two decades?
“But right here, right now, there’s no Michael Manson and there’s no Hornet and there’s no Impulse. It’s just you and me.
“I didn’t come here to cement my legacy at a top performer or to prove my worth among the legends. I didn’t come to wreak havoc on the likes of Hornet and Manson.
“I didn’t even come here to spread the glory of Empire Pro Wrestling to the unwashed heathens.
“No. I came because this may be the last chance I have to step into the ring with people I’ve known for a long, long time, one more time to remember who and what made me, remind myself that we all have history, we all have a past, that defines who we are.
“Paychecks don’t matter. Top billing doesn’t matter. Age doesn’t matter.
“When the bell rings, we’ll be new again. We’ll just be two desperate humans, scratching and clawing our way through 30 minutes of Hell, for a chance just to survive, just to move on.
“This is who I am, Joey. Will it be enough? Who knows.
“If not, well, hey… at least we can drink cheap wine and yell at the TV for not sending that sl*tty young woman to the electric chair. There’s always that.”
(FADEOUT to his crooked smile.)