Round 3: "The Kochi Cannibal" Freddie Sagawa vs. Shamon

[Chad]

Roleplay begins Sunday and ends next Sunday. 3 RP maximum.

You may submit a card segment for use on the card by private messaging it to the following usernames: Chad; Ford; User Poets Not all segments may be used (i.e. we might only include winners, just depends on the amount of craziness).

 

[Mad Dog]

(FADEIN to a press conference following the Round 2 card for Bracket 4. Shamon and the Disco Midget enter the room. Shamon is wearing an unbuttoned white cotton shirt and a white undershirt underneath. He has on black high-water pants and his white socks are exposed. As always, the white sequin glove is on his left hand and a large pair of sunglasses. Disco is wearing a bright orange leisure suit and has on 70’s style velvet fedora.

Disco Midget makes his way to the podium and Shamon takes a seat at a long table covered with a white cloth. Disco is hidden by the stature of the podium. A stagehand rushes over to him, holding a small stool for him to stand on in order to speak into the microphone and address the public. The stagehand helps him up onto the stool and the dwarf yells at him for being incompetent. Cameras are flashing heavily as he begins to speak.)

DISCO MIDGET: Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I have a brief statement to read on behalf of Shamon and his public relations team. (Clears his throat.) Tonight we saw the greatest star the world has ever seen, Shamon, defeat a worthy adversary in the form of Henry Dylan. Mr. Dylan was a class act throughout this process and, we feel, brought Shamon to the next level in the wrestling world.

I would like to personally offer him my condolences on his loss. Shamon feels that Mr. Dylan is a misunderstood individual and would love for him to be a member of his entourage. Whether it be as a personal tutor, trainer, or an errand boy.

Shamon is a triple threat in entertainment. He can sing, he can dance, and as it is obvious to all of you from the wrestling universe in attendance tonight, he can wrestle! Shamon is currently working to go into other fields, such as acting. He would also like to remind everyone of his work with multiple charities, including his foundation to help feed the starving children in Cambodia, The Second Mile for abused and neglected children, and Laptops for Liberia. Through his efforts, he hopes that Liberia will get an internet connection by 2016.

His album will be out in three months and a new single should hit the airwaves shortly. This will no doubt be a big hit in the United States and abroad. He has…

(Shamon raises his hand and Disco abruptly stops his speech. The cameras continue to flash as Shamon holds the pose for a few more seconds. He drops his arm and speaks into the microphone.)

SHAMON: Thank you, Disco. I think that statement sums up what my management team feels they need to get across, but I would like to make my own statement and then address a few of your questions.

First to Kevin Powers. He took me to the limits with his training and truly pushed me to the next level in the ring. I may have resorted to a few tactics that I am not proud of, but Mr. Powers told me that winning is everything. So I did my best to make him proud. I hope this isn’t the end of our relationship, as I feel that I can learn a great deal from him.

Next time we are at the same show, ZIMAs on me, buddy. (Lowers his sunglasses and gives a wink.)

Second thing is to Henry Dylan. I know that people don’t understand you. I can totally relate. But you brought out the best in me. Something that Lucious Starr couldn’t accomplish in my first round match with him. You, sir, are an outstanding competitor and I am glad that we crossed paths. You will ALWAYS hold a special place with me in my heart.

(Singing the Celine Dion song from Titanic.)

Near…far…wherever you are. I believe that the heart does go on. OWW! Once more you open the door. OHH! And you're here in my heart. And my heart will go on and on! (Stops singing and blows a kiss at the camera.) Thank you, Dylan, baby. I will never forget you!

(Shamon removes his sunglasses and tries to fight back the tears. He is getting choked up by his comments and takes a drink of water in an attempt to clam his nerves.)

Where was I? Oh yes. My next round match is scheduled in two weeks. I am facing some guy named Freddie Sagawa. This man has rather distinguishing features. The emphasized cheek bones, pronounced brow, and strong jaw line. The man should be modeling on a runway or on the cover of Out Magazine! Not that I read that or anything, but they recently offered me a photo shoot. Unfortunately, my schedule just won’t permit it.

But Freddie, my management team could make you a star! Don’t waste your time with this Waubash guy, he will only let you down. He is probably taking 75 percent of your earnings. You deserve better!

DISCO: Uhh…Shamon? How much of this guy have you really watched? He is a bit off his rocker, so to speak.

SHAMON: Nonsense! That’s just ignorance, Disco. Stop being ignorant! We all have mental problems and social issues we have to deal with. My therapist told me that anyone can be cured with the correct mix of antidepressants, benzodiazepines, and a proper diet. He obviously eats too much red meat.

DISCO: I don’t know how to break this to you, but he’s a supposed cannibal. Hence the name, “The Kochi Cannibal”.

SHAMON: Do what!?

DISCO: The man defeated Shawn Jessica Hart, one of the favorites to win the ULTRATITLE. He’s unpredictible.

SHAMON: Wait a second…I thought he looked familiar. Was he the lead singer of the Fine Young Cannibals? I wonder if he still has that high-pitched voice. (Starts to sing.) She drives me crazy…ohhh…ohhh…like no one else…uhh uhh. She drives me crazy, and I can’t help myself…ohhh…ohhh!

(Shamon stops singing, signals for the Disco Midget to come to him, and stands up out of his seat. The dwarf walks over and Shamon gets behind him. He leapfrogs over the little man and motions for Disco to do the same to him as he crouches down on the ground. The midget looks a little concerned and proceeds with a running start to leapfrog over Shamon.

Shamon then leapfrogs over the dwarf and Disco attempts to do the same to Shamon. Unfortunately, he does not have similar luck and ends up getting headbutted in the crotch during his leap. He keels over in pain and rolls around on the floor.)

SHAMON: I always wanted to do that. I remember the music video with those frog looking guys jumping around. How come VH-1 never did a Behind The Music special on that group? I would have loved to see how Sagawa went from a rock band to wrestling. Hey Disco…Disco?

(The midget is on one knee attempting to regain his composure. He holds up one finger, signalling that he needs a moment to get himself together.)

Well, while my vocal coach returns to his senses, I will take a few questions. You sir, the man in the yellow sportscoat. Do you work for Century 21 or something?

(The man stands up and asks his question.)

NAT BOWER: Yes, Shamon, I’m Nat Bower from WrestleNewsOnline. A lot of the experts are very upset that you have made it this far in the tournament. Your victory over Henry Dylan further solidified this opinion and your antics thus far have been less than desirable to the viewing public. Do you have anything to say to these analysts?

SHAMON: Are you for real? You are talking to America’s Sweetheart! I was voted the most popular contestant on American Voice Factor X. I returned to wrestling after a brief hiatus, and so far I have done exactly what I said I was going to do. How is this possible? It’s simple, because everything I put my fingers on turns to gold.

I have launched the careers of many of the big names that were in this business. Evan Aho, Shane Southern, Cameron Cruise…just to name a few! Once those guys stepped in the ring with me…their careers soared! The fact that they didn’t have any further longevity in this profession is because I wasn’t around.

Facts are facts. Look it up, get on your Galaxy tablet…because you are too cheap to afford the iPad…and do your research! (Drinks some water.) Why are you trying to upset me? I just had a big win, I am on a roll! Argh. OK…next question. You ma’am, in the pink ruffley blouse. Aren’t you just lovely? (Smiles and winks.)

(The reporter stands up to ask her inquiry.)

FANCY MACE: Oh…well, thank you. Fancy Mace, I’m with the Wrestling Times website. For the record, I voted for you on A.V.F.X. I loved your rendition of “When A Man Loves A Woman”. You are way better than Michael Bolton! My question is about some critics of yours claiming that you aren’t cut out to be here. I have been impressed with your progression through the tournament thus far, but some people have called you a laughing stock. What do you have to say to that?

SHAMON: Laughing stock? Excuse me?! (Eyes bugout at the comments.) Well it’s the safest stock out there to invest in! Everyone talks about Facebook going public and making millions of dollars on the I.P.O., while all those that invested early have lost millions! If I’m a laughing stock, invest heavily. Buy…buy…buy! With the economy being so bad, everyone needs to diversify their portfolio.

FANCY MACE: That’s not what that means…not even close. Let me rephrase the question. Your last opponent said that you were a joke, a comedy act, that this tournament is for real competitors. I believe that there are many people out there that feel the same way. What do you say to them?

SHAMON: It’s all jealousy. None of those people are as talented as I am. So they want to disparage me and toss cowdung on my many accolades. It’s sad when you think about it. It’s just an attempt for them to feel better about themselves by belittling me. Well, TOUGH TITTY Yes, I cursed! I apologize for my fans tuning in, but this stuff has to stop. When are they going to realize that no matter what they say or do…I will just keep on keepin’ on? It’s just ridiculous. OK…this is the last question. You, the pudgy man in the plaid jacket!

HAL YOKER: I’m Hal Yoker, weatherman for Greenville station WYFF, channel 4. In the statement read earlier, there was a remark about the donations you have given money to. The Second Mile was named. Are you aware that the charity you identified as being a contributor to is dissolving due to the acusations levied on the founder, Jerry Sandusky?

SHAMON: Well, I knew there was some sort of issues going on with Coach Sandusky, but I am not aware of the details. I have SO MUCH going on, as you can imagine. Let me say this…Coach Sandusky helped shape me into the man I am today.

My parents are Penn State alumni and in my younger days, they sent me to the youth football camp at PSU. JoePa was a brilliant strategist. He knew what position every kid’s skillset would best be suited for. He thought I would be great at defensive end and so I went to Coach Sandusky’s defensive group.

He tried me out at the end position. I would get down in a three point stance. Sandusky would get behind me and move me into the right positions, trying to improve my form. Coach would give me special attention because he believed in my abilities. We would spend hours together alone on the field after practice. He would help me boost my confidence by tackling him numerous times running through drills. We would simulate a scramble for a fumbled ball and dive into our own pileup. It was so rewarding! Afterwards, we would shower up and discuss certain plays I would blitz the quarterback on. The zone scheme, disguising coverage, the nickel package, exotic blitzes, personnel mismatches…all that stuff.

At night, I would be asleep in my bunk, and he would check in on me. I might have had a bad nightmare or something. I would open my eyes and he would be hovering over my sleeping body. I was a little freaked out at first, but I think he really cared! (Tearing up.) So when I hear these people saying he is accused of things…it hurts very deeply. I would not be the man I am today if it wasn’t for the time we spent together on those warm summer nights in my youth football camp. He is a godsend! If he ever needs anything from me, he can always call. Anything for Uncle Jerry. (Tear streams down his face.)

OK…that’s enough questions for tonight. I hate to end this on a sad note, but I have training for my ULTRATITLE tournament match. If you have more questions, please contact my publicist. Thank you!

(Shamon gets up for his seat and steps away from the table. The cameras are taking pictures of his exit. Before he leaves the room, he does a spin move, kicks the air, and grabs his crotch. He holds the pose in a freeze frame for a few seconds and then leaves the room. FADE TO BLACK.)

 

[Mad Dog]

(DISCLAIMER: Any character used that is not mine, was approved by the owner. Thanks.)


(FADEIN to a music studio, the location is unknown. The Disco Midget is at the control console tooling around with levers and switches. A beat begins to play on the other side of the glass where the microphone is positioned. Shamon steps up to the microphone and begins to beatbox to the music, a perfect accompaniment to the tune that is playing. The sound blends nicely and the Disco Midget nods in approval.

Shamon belts out a note, but it sounds a bit off key. He attempts to sing again, but he has the same results. Frustrated by his voice, he tosses off the headphones covering his ears and gives the cut sign to Disco with a hand movement. The Disco Midget speaks to him through the intercom.)

DISCO MIDGET: What happened there? You were doing a great job and when it came time to sing…you just froze up or something. What’s wrong?

SHAMON: I don’t really know. I think I am too worried about this match with Sagawa to work on this song. I thought I had enough motivation to get in the studio and really rip it up today, but for some reason doubt is setting into my mind. I can’t be like this, its just not healthy for me. Singing means the world to me, but when you showed me that match footage of Sagawa…it toyed with my confidence.

DISCO: Look, I thought this might come up. You have had a lot on your plate lately. Not to mention all of the flack you caught after your press conference.

SHAMON: I’m just misunderstood and this schedule is really draining me of energy. We’ve got the new single about to come out and I have more promotion to do for it.

DISCO: As much as I would hate to take a break from this album, maybe we should. You really need to focus on the match with Sagawa and let the chips fall where they may on the music for a few weeks.

SHAMON: But they already moved back the release date twice. Twice!

DISCO: Well I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it would break your heart, but the duet you were going to do with Shaggy was canceled. So we have to find another vocalist to fill the spot or wait for him to be available in a few weeks. The man is still going strong after his explosion on the scene in 2002 with “It Wasn’t Me”. The album may have another delay. Sorry, kid.

SHAMON: That’s just my luck! Ever since that press conference, everything seems to be going down hill. I’m devastated.

(Shamon begins to sob. The career balancing act may finally be taking its toll on the superstar. Disco Midget becomes angry and goes into the booth where Shamon is sitting on the floor in a state of despair.)

DISCO: I thought this may eventually happen. You can’t keep burning the candle on both ends. That’s why I put in a call to help you with your match against Sagawa. We can finish this track later. I need you to be at your best for the ULTRATITLE.

SHAMON: I know what you mean, but this match is going to be the biggest test I have had so far. After you showed me those DVDs of Sagawa in action, I have been preoccupied with what might happen when we finally face off.

DISCO: And it’s my job to get you prepared the best possible way I can. (Places his hand on his chin and contemplates his next words.) You have to realize that he is just as scared of you as you are of him. What happened to that spark of confidence that you showed during your press conference? You are undefeated in this tournament. A lot of guys came in that said they were better than you…and what happened to them? I’ll tell you…they got sent home! They had their dreams crushed by you. You are a much stronger force than you give yourself credit for.

(Shamon stands up on his feet, a dose of self-assurance flows through his veins.)

SHAMON: You are absolutely right! This is just like any other tournament in sports. The best always rises to the occasion and delivers.

(Nods his head and begins to sing “Off The Wall”.)

When the world is on your shoulder. UHH! Gotta straighten up your act and boogie down. OWW! If you can't hang with the feeling. HUH! Then there ain't no room for you, this part of town. UHH! 'Cause we're the party people, night and daaaay. OHH! Livin' crazy, that's the only waaaay. (Snaps his fingers and bobs his head.) So toniiight…gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf…and just enjoy yourself. GROOVE! Let the madness in the music get to you. Life ain't so bad at aaaaalllllllllll. If you live it off the wall. Life ain't so bad at all. Live your life off the wall. OWWW! SHA…SHA…SHAMON!

(Shamon stops singing and begins to dance performing the Running Man. He then breaks down into a snake move and finishes by patting the Disco Midget on the head.)

You are so right about everything, Disco! You are my bestest friend ever! Sagawa won’t know what hit him when he steps into the ring with this SMOOTH CRIMINAL! OHHHHH!

(Just as Shamon bellows out his war cry, Shawn Jessica Hart and Felicia Hart enter the room. Shamon turns his head and is immediately mesmerized and spellbound by Felicia. He is transfixed by her unprecedented beauty. Her hair, her eyes, her lips. Shamon is beside himself and left utterly speechless by her appearance.)

SJH: YO! Did someone here order a glass dildo?! I think the shoddy delivery by FedEx may have shattered it in transit. I ABSOLUTELY didn't try and insert it...

(SJH shakes the box and sound of broken glass is heard inside.)

DISCO: I think Shamon may have ordered an antique vase from Persia. Shamon?

SHAMON: …I uhh…

FELICIA: It smells funny in here.

(Shamon continues to be entranced as he stares at Felicia. His thoughts begin to race and he drifts into a daydream.

The song “Lady In Red” by Chris de Burgh begins to play in his mind. His thoughts replay Felicia walking into the room in a different outfit than what she is wearing. A tight fitting red velvet dress. Her hair is styled another way, with her long luscious golden locks up in a bun.

The movements in this daydream are in slow-motion. A close-up of her face, a tighter shot of her eyes and lips as she speaks. Shamon envisions himself with the same hairstyle only it is slicked back. He is in a black tuxedo with an untied bowtie hanging from his neck.

Shift to a shot of Shamon quivering with desire as he watches her saunter into his life. He stands motionless and imagines himself walking over to her. He grabs her by the waist and they embrace in a deep kiss that seemingly lasts forever in slow-motion, as if it were a camera effect filmed at six frames per second.

Shamon then takes her hand and they begin to dance a very sexy routine that looks plucked from an episode of Dancing With The Stars with his favorite childhood television star, Mario Lopez.

Shamon dips her and raises her back up. They lock eyes for a brief instance and he moves in for another passionate kiss. Felicia moves her hand down the front of his body, as if they are going to take things even further on a physical level. He feels a tug near his pants pocket. Is this it? Could this be one of his fantasies actually coming true?

His hallucination comes to an abrupt halt as the tugging on his pocket intensifies. Shamon snaps out of his temporary coma of love and comes to the realization that it is only the Disco Midget trying to gain his attention.)

DISCO: Shamon? Shamon!?

(Shamon is startled that it was only a daydream. His mind playing tricks on him as his infatuation for Felicia Hart had manifested itself into a blissful moment within his mind. His thoughts transferred into something that may never become a reality for him.

He looks down at the Disco Midget, almost sad that his trip to “lala land” was nothing more than a brief slip in his own space-time continuum. An alternate universe of sorts.)

SHAMON: I uhh…I uhh…I will take a meatball sub.

DISCO: What!? I was asking you about this Persian vase, you nimrod! I hope the shipper has insurance. It is ruined. Was that to give to your dad for Father’s Day?

SHAMON: Ohh…uhh…no. It was going to be for my new house. Disco…what are the Harts doing here? I don’t believe we have been properly introduced.

DISCO: Well, it’s kind of the same thing we did for your last match. I asked Shawn to come and give you pointers on Sagawa. They had a real knockdown drag-out match. I think he is the best person to pick the brain of for your match next week. You have to take this seriously; you are on the cusp of greatness in the wrestling world. Something you have never been to before. We need to get the best training money can buy!

SJH: I usually just go on Craiglist and find a sparring partner, my sister video tapes it. Strictly for insurance purposes. The last guy got some beads stuck in his keister and blamed me for it. I can’t have any lawsuits. It was just a freak accident! I like to make my own jewelry, mainly bracelets and necklaces. The occasional strand of Benoit balls….ya know, the usual normal things one does with his or her spare time. The dumbass fell in a box of them and tried to send me the medical bill. Screw that noise.

SHAMON: I have many hobbies myself, when I travel I like to crochet. I made a scarf for Disco. (Shamon thinks for a moment.) Will Felicia be joining us?

FELICIA: Hells yeah.

(Felicia starts a passionate gaze at Shamon and appears to be in a daydream of her own. She envisions him as a young Billy Dee Williams from his Lando Calrissian days. Shamon with a puffy-styled jheri curl, his hair color is still blonde, and nicely trimmed mustache. Shamon is wearing a powder blue colored cape, shirt, and black pants. Felicia is dressed like an enslaved Princess Leia held captive by Jabba The Hutt.

Shamon swoops into the room to save her from the dreaded beast. He kicks one of Jabba’s aids in the head, uses a laser gun to shoot off the chains, and grabs her up to head for safety. Once into a secluded area, Shamon snaps his fingers and the room fills with lit candles. A bottle is on ice and a blanket is laid out on the floor. They sit together embrace in a moment of lust.

Shamon places his finger over her lips and then moves to grab the bottle out of the ice bucket. He grabs to champagne glasses and pops the bottle open. But there is no popping noise, instead the sound of a metal top being unscrewed is heard. He pours the glasses and much like a waiter at a nice restaurant, he reveals the bottle to be that of the champagne of beers, COLT 45!

Her eyes show the satisfaction of him knowing that was her favorite brand. They cling their glasses, wrap their arms around in a romantic toast, and sip their drinks. Just as they are about to kiss again, storm troopers enter the room…and they are surrounded. Darth Vader walks in and begins to speak…)

SJH: Hey sis…do you think these pants make my butt look big?

(Felicia snapping out of her trance and coming to the realization that is was only a dream.)

FELICIA: Just leave me alone.

(Felicia is upset and leaves the studio to go outside to get some fresh air.)

SHAMON: I better go check on her.

DISCO: Alright, I will discuss some things with Shawn and get together a gameplan for your training.

(Shamon leaves the room while SJH and Disco are discussing strategy.)

DISCO: I want to know everything you can tell me about Sagawa in the ring. I know all I can from DVD’s, but hearing it from you, his last opponent, should help me formulate a plan that will propel Shamon to victory.

SJH: He doesn’t like assplay…that is one thing I found out the hard way. And DO NOT mess with his nipples…he doesn’t take too kindly to that.

DISCO: Ummm…well, I don’t think that will go into our strategy. I think Shamon may have the guy flustered. Sagawa hasn’t said a word.

SJH: I think he might be a mute and NEVER says a word. But that Waubash guy usually has PLENTY to say.

DISCO: Well, he hasn’t said anything either. I think he realizes that he has met his match!

(Cut to outside the studio, Shamon and Felicia are talking.)

SHAMON: So why did you just all the sudden leave the studio?

FELICIA: If I told you, you wouldn’t believe it. I guess I got a little freaked out.

SHAMON: It happens to the best of us. I had an odd moment in there too. You triggered something inside of me when we locked eyes in there. I can’t explain it. It was like I was in another world. I was feeling kind of down today, but seeing you really perked me up.

FELICIA: Really? I had a similar experience when I saw you. Just weird.

SHAMON: Hey, do you want to go grab some FroYo before I start training with your bro?

FELICIA: For sure, Shammy, for sure.

(The two walk off down the sidewalk, just as the sun begins to set, allowing only their silhouettes to be viewed from the camera angle. Shamon grabs her hand that is hanging by her side and they hold hands as the scene FADES TO BLACK.)

 

[Scumsucker]

Editors Note: We apologize for the delay, as we had to receive certain clearances before we could air this interview that took place shortly after the closing of Round 2 of The UltraTitle Tournament.

[Fade In.]

[The camera fades from nothingness to an unfamiliar face that has somehow managed to find himself into the backstage area of The U.S. Cellular Arena. The individual stands about 6’0 tall and probably nearing the 300lb mark in weight. He has brown hair that is slicked back, light blue eyes, and a tuft of hair on his chin. Dressed in an NFW T-Shirt, he glances around for something... for someone... he is a man on a mission.

Suddenly his eyes light up as he notices someone approaching from this distance and raises a hand to flip on a tape recorder.]

RS: “Hello wrestling fans, this is Rusty Simmons with RingRustRadio.com and I’m coming to you from backstage at The U.S. Cellular Arena in Bloomington, Illinois – where just mere moments ago we wrapped up Round 2 of The UltraTitle Tournament. We had all the stars out in full force tonight including Pat Gordon Jr., Jeffrey Roberts, and the legendary Troy Windh-“

[His words, however, are cut off as he is nearly plowed down by another individual that is heading in the opposite direction with his head down. Apparently texting and walking is a dangerous thing – but that is just the kind of person that Cameron Lee Waubash is. Not paying much attention to the shoulder to shoulder contact, The Beverly Hills Bastard continues on his way – cell in one hand, drink in the other.]

RS: “Excuse me Mr. Waubash? Cameron?”

[Hearing a voice that he doesn’t recognize calling out to him, Waubash glances back over his shoulder to see who it is that dares to speak to him. No clue. Staring back at him he gestures towards him with a partially open mouth as if to say “Yeah?”

Realizing this is a great opportunity, Simmons tries to find the courage within himself to speak up. Finally he does, his voice trembling just the faintest bit.]

RS: “I was wondering if I could get a word with you.”

CLW: “Who the are you?”

RS: “Rusty Simmons with RingRustRadio.com.”

[Cameron shakes his head.]

CLW: “Nope. Doesn’t ring a bell. What the frig is that?”

RS: “It’s a wrestling podcast.”

[Podcast? Okay .. There is a term that he may recognize.

Podcast = people listening.

Listening means more time to extol the virtues of his charge, “The Kochi Cannibal” Freddie Sagawa.

Some publicity out of his way means less time he needs to spend in front of his webcam and blogging and more time fraternizing with the ladies of Los Angeles.

Done deal.]

CLW: “A podcast, eh? You mean people actually listen to that ?”

RS: “They do.”

CLW: “Heh. How ‘bout that. Podcast away.”

[The jaw of the youngster drops a bit as he realizes that he is going to get a face to face interview with an actual wrestling star. Dumbfounded, he confirms that he is hearing things correctly.

RS: “Seriously?”

[Waubash nods his head and steps a bit closer, leaning back against the cinder block walls that line the hallway in the back]

CLW: “Sure. Why not? You got some questions?”

RS: “I do.”

CLW: “Then fire away.”

RS: “Wow, thanks. I really appreciate it.”

[The Beverly Hills Bastard just waves it off, after all we already established that the less work _he_ has to do .. the better.]

RS: “Um .. I just wanted to get your thoughts tonight about Freddie Sagawa’s win over Shawn Jessica Hart, which many people are calling an upset.”

[Waubash smirks a bit at the question, impressed that he isn’t going to lead the interview off with any softball questions. He’s getting right to the point. Addressing what people out in the real world have to say, as opposed to giving him some verbal gratifications.]

CLW: “Really? People are calling an upset? Because if they are, that is just A-OK with me. After all, Sagawa continues to mark his territory in this tournament by taking out one top notch competitor after another.

Kevin Hardaway on his big return tour.

A former world champion multiple times over in Shawn Jessica Hart.

And as long as he gets those W’s he gets closer to glory, and my pockets just keep getting fatter. So yeah, call it an upset. I couldn’t care less.”

RS: “Well I think part of the reason that people are considering it an upset is because Freddie Sagawa came into The UltraTitle Tournament as a relative unknown. But now, with these huge wins under his belt, I really feel that he is proving that he is a force to be reckoned with.”

[There is an uncomfortable silence between the two men, until finally Cameron decides to speak up.]

CLW: “Was that a question?”

RS: “More a statement really.”

CLW: “I see. But let me say this – if Freddie Sagawa is a relative unknown to fans of The UltraTitle Tournament and competitors are underestimating him, then they aren’t heeding the warnings that I have given. I mean I hate to sound like a broken record, but stepping into the squared circle with Freddie Sagawa is no walk in the park.

He’s a dangerous man. He’s lethal. And not the type of man that anyone in their right mind would want to with. Ya know what I’m saying?”

[Simmons nods, understandingly.]

RS: “Speaking of people that don’t appear to be in their right mind. Heh. Due to the events of tonight, The Kochi Cannibal will move on in the tournament to face another strange entity. That being Sham-

[Before another word can escape the reporter’s lips, Waubash throws up a hand to silence him. Shaking his head in disappointment, you can clearly see the muscles in his body tensing. Reaching up with the fist that holds his cell phone, Waubash pushes on his jaw – cracking his neck in the process.]

CLW: “Don’t.”

RS: “Huh?”

CLW: “You started off the interview by asking a nice, well thought out, even intelligent question. Don’t go and it all away by bringing up _his_ name. Because I don’t want to hear it.”

[Simmons things for a moment.]

RS: “So that is a no comment?”

CLW: “Listen Russell. That joker. That farce. He who shall not be named? He doesn’t belong in the same ring or same arena as Freddie Sagawa. His name should never be uttered in the same sentence as Freddie Sagawa. Because he represents every single thing that is wrong with the business of professional wrestling.

Yes, he may have made it to the third round of this illustrious tournament. But that is clearly and merely a fluke. A freak accident. And to think that it was anything BUT would be giving him faaaaaar more credit than he deserves.

He .. is .. trash.”

[Intrigued by the answer, Simmons decides to see if he can push things a little bit further.]

RS: “Well if I can be honest with you Mr. Waubash.”

CLW: “By all means. Just expect an honest reaction. Ya know, like a backhand to the mush or something.


[Cameron snickers to let the Simmons know that it is only a joke. It _is_ only a joke, right?]

RS: “Okay then. What I was going to say is that based on your last statement, it seems that you may be doing exactly what you have accused others of doing when it comes to Sagawa.”

CLW: “Oh?”

RS: “I mean couldn’t it be possible that _you_ are now underestimating what you have standing before you? Couldn’t _you_ possibly be setting Freddie Sagawa up for the same endgame that befell Kevin Powers or Henry Dylan at the hands of Sha-“

[This time action isn’t necessary, as the cold glare of Cameron Lee Waubash tells exactly what thoughts are running through his mind – and are clear enough to stop the reporter’s words in their tracks.]

CLW: “No Russell.”

RS: “Rusty.”

CLW: “Don’t care. No. It is not the same thing. Because that .. that thing .. is not a wrestler. He’s not an athlete. He’s a feel good moment that Freddie Sagawa is fixing to make feel very VERY bad. If you catch my drift.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to excuse myself from this interview before you kill my buzz.”

[Cameron holds up the glass in cheers-like fashion, before turning to walk away. But before he can get too far down the hallway, Simmons decides that he doesn’t want to end the interview on a sour note – because he hasn’t gotten that one question that will make his name on the internet. So quickly he blurts out.]

RS: “One more question! .. Just one more question?”

[Raising an eyebrow, Waubash eyes the reporter with a bit of curiosity. After all, his questions to this point have been pretty pedestrian. Nothing that any other reporter wouldn’t think about asking. So what harm could one more question do, right?]

CLW: “Alright, you have one more question. So make it good, and _don’t_ me off any more. Got it?”

[Nervously, Simmons nods his head as he searches in his mind for just the right thing to ask. Finally, a light bulb seems to go off over his head.]

RS: “Okay sure. Since the beginning of The UltraTitle Tournament, we have heard you talk to great lengths about Freddie Sagawa. About what he is capable of in the ring. About all the accomplishments he has had both stateside an internationally .. “

[He tries to read the temperament of Waubash for a moment before continuing on.]

RS: “.. but we have yet to hear from the man himself. I mean I understand your role as a manager and everything. You are his mouthpiece. But I would love to get Freddie Sagawa's thoughts on The UltraTitle and what it means to him.”

[Throwing back his head, Waubash lets out a bit of silent laughter. Amused by the question, he surveys the youngster…]

CLW: “What does Freddie Sagawa think about The UltraTitle? That’s what you want to know?”

[Simmons nods.]

CLW: “Well that is the million dollar question now, isn’t it? Everybody wants to know what is going on inside the mind of The Kochi Cannibal – but they don't want to hear it from me.

Well I am going to do you a huge solid Rusty my man.”

RS: “Really?”

CLW: “Why not? Consider it my good deed for this lifetime.”

[Turning and resting a hand on Simmons’ shoulder, he points down the hallway just a few feet to a large steel door.]

CLW: “See that door right there?”

RS: “Yeah”

CLW: “Well behind that door lies the man, himself. The future winner of The UltraTitle and a fine upstanding young man. I am going to let you, Rusty, march in there and ask him that very question for yourself. Hell, feel free to ask him any little thing your heart desires. “

RS: “Really?”

CLW: “Really really. And just to make sure that I don’t interfere or put my spin on things, I am going to plop my ass on one of these crates. Enjoy myself a glass or two of whiskey. And let you do business all on your own. What do you think about that?”

[Simmons looks at the door and then back at Waubash, a bit shocked at the opportunity that is being handed to him on a silver platter. With a hand still rested on his shoulder, Waubash guides the reporter down the hallway and gives the door a knock with the back of his hand.]

CLW: “Fred-meister. You have a visitor.”

[And gesturing towards the door in a gracious and almost bowing manner, Waubash steps back out of the picture to let his new found friend get to work. Simmons does another double-take between the door and Waubash, before pressing a forearm to the door and pushing it open.

But as the door begins to swing open, there is a slight change in the mood. Behind the partially open door is relative darkness. Blackness that is only heightened by off rhythm flashing of the artificial lighting that lies within.

Hesitating, Simmons looks back over his shoulder towards The Beverly Hills Bastard – who urges him on. Waving towards the room and mouthing the words “go ahead.”]

RS: “Russell James Simmons .. Now is _your_ time.”

[And confidently, he puts his shoulder into the door as it swings open silently on it’s hinges. Proudly he marches into the room...

> SPLASH <

> SPLASH <

... and as the door begins to swing shut behind him, we get a parting shot of a jovial Cameron Lee Waubash watching on. A grin on his face that is reminiscent of the cat that swallowed the canary.]

RS: (To himself) “What the?”

[Coming to a stop just a few feet into the room, Simmons looks down – only to come to the realization that he is standing in an inch or more of water. Water that is no doubt coming from the running shower that is in the next room. Water that has just the faintest pink hue to it.

Weird.]

RS: “Hell-“

[Simmons starts to speak out, but then hears another sound in the room with him. A sound that is barely audible over the steady running of the water and the hum of the lone fluorescent light that hangs overhead flashing on .. and off .. on .. and off.

Sure there are other lights overhead, but it appears that the majority of them are either not working or broken. One more step forward …

> CRUNCH <

... gives Simmons the answer that he was looking for. As mixed with the pink tinted water are the remnants of two or three shattered light tubes.

Weird.]

??: “Al jogat ed al japluknes satse sixginif. Adlabŭ al ourted ed al onrak otnaxgnam sotse ireknok ĉnjui.”

RS: (Softly to himself) “What the?”

[Sucking up the courage to move on, Rusty Simmons moves through the puddled floor of the locker room towards the opposite wall – where a wide open doorway leads to a communal shower. His steps drowned out by the low, guttural chanting?]

??: “A orefo ne ognas utse ataraf la juik sodrag nim. Rop igitrof. Rop igitrofilp. Ineb nim nuk al jocelbapak rop iknev ne aim jolatab.”

[Peering around the corner and into the shower, Simmons comes across the last thing that he expected to see. For there before him, crouched low in an almost fetal-like position is “The Kochi Cannibal” Freddie Sagawa draped only in a tattered loincloth that also looks to be streaked with red. The steam from the scalding how shower rises from the floor giving the scene a surreal, almost fog-like effect.

Around the feet of Sagawa lies what can only be described as a heaping pile of offal. Offal you ask? Offal is considered to be the unwanted parts of many of nature’s animals. The internal organs and entrails that most people on the street would shy away from. But one man’s garbage is another man’s treasure, and these items are cherished as a source of protein in many other cultures. Kidneys. Pancreas. Stomach. And is that a brain?

And where did this come from?

Weird.]

FS: “Uik saroda al erĝo ed opop sotse etrofrep jatirov ed al onrak namĝotna. Ail ajag joreinam oksam rop al omit uik ukŝsa ednuforp ne ais orok. A omit uik somretske njail etnatse mud im somretske njail oramoh. Heh heh.”

[Like a bullet, the smell from the rotting organs catches Simmons in the nose and he turns towards a nearby trashcan – fighting back the urge to vomit. Fighting back the urge to give away his presence and miss out on the story of “The Kochi Cannibal” in his natural habitat. After a minute or two has past, it appears that Simmons has regained his composure and returns his attention to the shower. Just in time to be caught off guard by an ear-piercing shriek ...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKK!!

... courtesy of The Kochi Cannibal.

As he scurries back into position to see what evoked such a blood curdling sound, he notices that things have changed. Sagawa is now standing upright and casts aside a jagged looking stone that clatters across the floor. The sound faintly muted by the puddle of water.

Placing one hand against the wall, Sagawa allows the other to fall to it’s side as his life force begins to drip .. drip .. drip .. and then flow somewhat freely from the palm of his left hand.

RS: (In a whisper) “Jesus Christ.”

[And then suddenly the chanting begins again. A chanting in a language that doesn’t seem to be familiar, common, or quite possibly not of this planet. But then, would believing that Freddie Sagawa is not of this planet be _that_ far fetched?

With the crimson now flowing, Sagawa raises his hand and presses it against the dry tile wall of the shower. Slowly he begins to move it around in a deliberate manner. Up and around, this way and that, until he finally comes to a stop. There .. imprinted on the way .. in blood is a piece of art.

One stick figure lies on the ground, prone, his body curved in an irregular fashion. There are X’s where his eyes should be. Standing above him is yet another stick figure, with the tell-tell make-up design of The Kochi Cannibal. His arm is thrust into the air and clutching .. a spine

Below the picture is one word – Hardaway.]

FS: “Al oriv seik onizde siri xuatna il, sisal nes onips.”

[Reaching out with his clean hand, Sagawa turns on the showerhead above his drawing and slowly it fades away – mixing with the stained water that continues to rise on the floor. No sooner is the image erased from the wall, than Sagawa halts the water, resumes his position and his left hand goes to work once more.

His hand moves around more and more, and soon a new disasterpiece begins to take form. This time there is another prone body, only it lies face up across a table – the X’s over it’s eye. Liquid spurts from it’s chest as once again another figure representing Freddie Sagawa stands over it. His hands folded before him, this time it clutches a heart. Not the type that a schoolgirl uses to dot her I’s. But the organ .. which has far too much detail to it.

Below the picture is the name – Hart.]

FS: “Al ĉonoipma uik siraf nomon nuk ŝjocre silaf. Im sivorp il en savah norok.”

[Admiring his handiwork for the briefest of moments, Sagawa leans forward and turns the shower on again. Rinse. Repeat. Slowly the image fades away never to be seen again .. except for in the nightmares of the curious onlooker. As the wall is cleared, Sagawa leans his right hand against the wall as his left hand returns to what it is quite skilled at. Images of carnage.

Quickly his hand begins to dart all over the place like it has twice before. Finally it comes to rest, as Sagawa steps back to survey the scene. This time Freddie Sagawa stands tall, as a victim kneels before him. His mouth is open in a scream, but no X’s appear over his eyes. Why? Because in the outstretched arm of stick figure Freddie Sagawa hangs long veins, from which dangle two eyeballs.

Quietly The Kochi Cannibal laughs.]

FS: “Heh. Heh. Heh.”

[But instead of erasing it, Sagawa leans forward to make a new addition. One that he completes in mere seconds. Just like before he has added a name.

One single .. solitary name.

The same name he states in a barely audible whisper.]

FS: “Rusty.”

[It takes a few moments for the reality of what has been written upon the wall to settle in – but as it does, the expression of the face of the young reporter freezes. Again Sagawa cries out, this time a bit louder and almost tauntingly …]

FS: “Ruuuuuuuussssssstyyyyyyyyyyyy.”

RS: “Oh .”

[Realizing the gravity of the situation, the youngster begins to backpedal across the floor of the locker room, towards the door that allowed him passageway into this hell.]

FS: “RUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSTYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

[Moving as quickly as his feet will allow him – but never taking his eyes off The Kochi Cannibal – Simmons continues on his escape, until his shoe finds the shards of broken glass and he slips. Both feet go flying up into the air, and he comes crashing down on his tailbone with a loud thud that causes him to cry out in excruciating pain.

As he hits the cold, wet, tile floor of the bathroom the single florescent bulb that was overhead explodes in a shower of sparks. But just before everything fades to black, one clear cut image is Rusty Simmons’ mind.

The image of The Kochi Cannibal as he spins around in the shower to face him – his pointed and blood stained teeth bared. Streaks of crimson cover his chest. And a sickeningly twisted grin on his deranged and made up face.

Like a primal warrior about to pounce on it’s prey, he raises his eyes to the heaven and cries out …]

FS: “GWAI-LO WANNA DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!!!!”

[Fade to Black]

 

[Scumsucker]

[The day? Friday June 5, 2012.

The time? The buttcrack of dawn.

The man? Cameron Lee Waubash.

A highly irritated Cameron Lee Waubash to be more precise. And his rage all starts as he flips on his webcam to broadcast to the world once again. As he looks away from the lens, you can practically see the frustration and aggravation that is radiating from his pores. He is _not_ in a good mood.

Taking a deep breath, he turns his attention to the camera with a sneer so intense it seems as though it could kill a man. But one casualty in a Cameron Lee Waubash video is enough. Right?]

CLW: “You know what the fact that I even have to take the time out of my day … out of my life to tape this is pure and unadulterated bull .

The weekend is here and I’m planning a trip down to Cabo – but my friggin’ phone is ringing off the damn hook because of yet another one of my actions.”

[Pausing for a moment, Waubash looks towards the heavens as though he is praying for patience. But then again, do you think the man upstairs wants anything to do with The Beverly Hills Bastard? Finally, after what seems like an eternity (but is more like a few seconds) his gaze returns towards the lens and the viewers at home.]

CLW: “First I have The UltraTitle Committee up my ass because they wanted clearance that that nobody from RingRustRadio was okay.

Then after jumping through million one circus hoops, I get the green light to air the video and the message boards start lighting up with concern.”

[With gritted teeth Waubash goes on, making a few mocking voices that range from shock to whining to concern.]

CLW: “Oh my god I cannot believe that Cameron Lee Waubash made a snuff film.

What kind of sick and disgusting videotapes someone else being attacked.

Is Rusty okay?”

[Violently Waubash thrusts his head into the palm of his hands and gazes down at the desk that he is sitting at as he goes on, his speech moving rather quickly – since he wants to get some things off of his chest.]

CLW: “Seriously folks, I don’t know if you’re aware of this but we are in the world of professional wrestling. It’s a business that is built on violence .. on going waaaaaaay over the top .. and in some cases gore. At it’s core, it is about two men .. four men .. 30 man going into the field of combat and bludgeoning the ever loving out of one another for some recognition or a paycheck.”

[Quickly his head snaps up as he thrusts a warning finger at the lens.]

CLW: “So suck it up, find a sack, change your damn tampon… whatever it takes – but I am sick .. and I am tired of having to constantly take time aware from promoting _my man_ to explain my actions. Got it?

Right out of the gate I made it crystal clear that I am a giant bag o’ douche .. that I am a villain. If you are not humanly capable of handling what I have to say or what I do you don’t have to watch me. That is your prerogative. And I am not about to take it from you.

Because whether you’re a fan of mine or not – the man that I represent, Freddie Sagawa, is bar none the best thing to happen to this entire UltraTitle Tournament.”

[Waubash nods his head affirmatively and emphatically, so that the home viewer can understand that there is no point arguing what he is saying. But suddenly he “guffaws” in amusement.]

CLW: “And if you stop and think about it .. what happened last week in Bloomington wasn’t even MY fault.

It was the fault of the same people who are raising hell over that tape.

YOU are the ones that were crying… Saying I talked too friggin’ much.
YOU were the ones who wanted to hear from Freddie Sagawa.
And it was each every one of YOU that inspired Rusty Simmons to ask that asinine question that put him in the line of fire.

So take those grubby fingers that are pointing at me and turn them around. Because all that Cameron Lee Waubash did was pander to you and give you exactly what you asked for.

And so we’re at a standstill.

Congratulations ya friggin' hypocrites.”

[Sarcastically, Waubash claps his hands together. Pausing momentarily, he decides if he wants to continue – rubbing his temples with extended fingers.]

CLW: “Like it blows my mind. Some pathetic Jacko want to be gets his jollies making jokes about an assumed child molester – and that’s A-OK with everyone.

It’s also fine and dandy when Shawn Jessica Hart makes his intentions known, that he intends to sodomize an unwilling victim with a great glass dildo. Yup. No problem there.

I’m not sure how many of you are aware of this – but rape and pedophilia are crimes that will land you behind bars in 50 different states in the good old U.S. of A.”

[Cameron nods his head to the affirmative. Yup.]

CLW: “But I air a video that insinuates that my Kochi Cannibal is going to use his God given sense of self-preservation to take down some bloat bellied paparazzi peeping tom prick and _that_ is considered damnable?

Nope. Don’t think so.

There isn’t even any proof. Just your imaginations running wild and assuming for the worst. Filling in the blanks. Connecting the dots. Why? Because deep down inside you have the innate desire to loathe me and everything that I stand for.”

[But finally his little rant comes to a halt as Waubash runs his strong hand back through his dirty blonde locks and takes a deep breath. Goosfraba.]

CLW: “But let’s be real here. This whole spiel is absolutely fruitless because you know as well as I do, that you’re not going to change your minds. The in’, the moanin’, the complainin’, and the criticizing is never going to cease to exist – because that’s not your nature.

You need to take all your self loathing and somehow deflect it onto somebody else – and I just happen to be the lucky victim. But so what? If that is my cross to bear, I’ll gladly strap it on these broad shoulders of mine and carry it ‘til the end of time without batting an eye.

Because your unfounded hatred and hypocritical ways have helped me come to the realization that every ounce of disgust and distain that courses through my veins for you is one hundred percent justified.

So keep the hate rainin’ down on me and I will bathe in it like a cool summer storm.”

[Looking upwards, Waubash extends his arms for the camera in a Messiah-esque pose. His eyes close and a smile on his face that tells that he relishes the thought of what he is saying.]

CLW: “Because no matter what you say or what you do, these things will remain true.

Freddie Sagawa IS going to decimate Shamon without breaking a sweat.

Freddie Sagawa IS going to find his name emblazoned in the annals of history as the victor of the 2012 UltraTitle Tournament.

And together Freddie Sagawa and I are going to attain levels of superstardom in the sport of professional wrestling that _few_ if any have ever dreamed of.”

[A confident smirk now on his face, The Beverly Hills Bastard nods his head.]

CLW: “But do me one favor. Will ya? Don’t hate me because the words I speak or the actions that I take. Hate me because you know deep down in your cholesterol corroded hearts that what I say is simply the truth. Hate me because you _know_ that I am better than you.

Now off. I’m goin’ to Mexico.”

[Throwing the finger towards the camera, Waubash leans in and flips a switch …

Fade to Black.]

 

[Mad Dog]

(FADEIN to the bumper cars ride somewhere in an amusement park. Shamon, Disco Midget, Shawn Jessica Hart, and Felicia Hart are all in their own cars on the track. Disco Midget is driving the red car and bumps into Felicia. Shamon sees this and rams his car into Disco. Shawn Hart follows it up by bumping into the back of Shamon, increasing the force of the hit.

The Disco Midget has the look of anger on his face and he goes on the offensive by pulling out of the pileup and hitting Shamon and SJH as they are giving one another high fives for their efforts. Disco bumps into SJH’s car and it ricochets into Shamon. Felicia, now out of the pileup, returns the favor and bashes her car into the Disco Midget.

Shamon sits idle for a few seconds and spots Disco attempting to take aim at him. He stands still momentarily and then pushes the peddle, leaving behind an oil slick of sorts for his jheri curl activator spray on the ground. Disco misses his intended target and his bumper car spins out from the puddle left behind from where Shamon was parked.

Disco Midget spins out of control and is now in a dizzy state. As he regains his senses, Shamon plows into him with his car and is flanked by the Harts coming in on opposite sides to hit Disco. WHAM! All three connect on Disco’s car and the impact gives the dwarf whiplash. He appears to be injured.)

DISCO MIDGET: Alright…ENOUGH! My head is spinning and I think I got my spine out of alignment with that last hit. I give up!

(Disco unbuckles himself out of the safety harness and exits onto the floor. He walks gingerly towards the exit for his own wellbeing and in the process slips on another activator puddle Shamon left previously. He falls onto the floor. As he regains his wits, he spots SJH closing in on him with his car. Disco’s eyes bug out as he sees his life flash before his eyes. Out of nowhere, Shamon intercepts the blow that SJH was about to deliver. Disco jumps up and waddles onto the outside platform of the bumper car rink.)

DISCO: You sonovab*tch! You tried to cripple me! Maybe this fun day out of the office was a bad idea. I know I am regretting it!

(The operator of the ride turns off the power and the rest of the entourage get out of their cars and go to where Disco is standing, holding his neck in pain.)

FELICIA: That was SO MUCH FUN!

SJH: I wasn’t really gonna hit you, Disco.

DISCO: Whatever, you a$$hole! This is enough to drive me back to drinking and seek comfort in a bottle of Jack Daniels!

SHAMON: Oh, come on now. I rented the park out for the day. I tried to get us Disneyland, but the advance I got from the record label wasn’t enough to cover that type of an expense. So I found the next best thing. Beech Bend Park…located in beautiful Bowling Green, Kentucky!

(Shamon turns to the camera, gives a thumbs up, and smiles as if it is a paid endorsement.)

I’ve gotta do a lot of plugs for this place, its part of the deal to rent the park out for a day.

DISCO: The only thing Kentucky is known for is its jellies. Not an amusement park. Come on! This place is fourth-rate if I ever saw it!

SJH: Kentucky is known for its jelly?

DISCO: Yeah…ever heard of KY Jelly? It’s in every shopping market all over the world! I found some in my hotel room last night. I put it on some bread…it tastes horrible.

SJH: Oh…it’s an acquired taste.

FELICIA: You guys are sick.

SHAMON: Hey everybody, let’s go on a water ride. They have a boat trip themed ride that drops you down from about 150 feet into a pool of water! It will be awesome!

(The rest of the crew shrugs their shoulders and heads over to the Raging Rapids ride. They take a chauffeured golf cart ride to the attraction. SJH continues to talk about the jelly while being driven to the location.)

DISCO: So Shamon, I was on the internet last night. I saw a few things posted about Sagawa. Cameron Waubash was on a podcast that may have seriously injured the interviewer. Then he went on a little tirade on his webcam, talking about how Sagawa will destroy you without breaking a sweat.

SJH: Don’t believe the hype, Shamon. The man talks endless crap and tries to psyche you out before your match. That was one of my mistakes against him. I should’ve paid it no attention and maybe I would be facing you in Round 3.

SHAMON: For him to look past me is a mistake on his part. My last two opponents found that out the hard way…when I came off the top rope and nailed them with The Thriller! I’m not gonna let that get me down. We have this park for an entire day! I’m so excited! I need to blow off some steam and this is the perfect way for me to clear my mind before the match.

(Shamon starts to sing “Break My Stride” by Matthew Wilder.)

You're on a roll and now you pray it lasts. The road behind was rocky…but now you're feeling cocky. UHH! You look at me and you see your past. Is that the reason why you're runnin' so fast. AHH! And she said, ain't nothin' gonna break my stride. UH! Nobody's gonna slow me down! OH NO! I got to keep on moving! Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride. OH! I'm running and I won't touch ground! OH NO! I got to keep on moving!

(Shamon stops singing and does a Cabbage Patch dance while riding in the golf cart. He starts to viciously bob his head and does some neck rolls to close out the routine.)

DISCO: Good…stay that way! If these guys think they have you rocked, Waubash and Sagawa will circle around you like a couple of sharks that smell blood.

SHAMON: Don’t be silly. Sagawa puts up a big front like he is a monster. But I know deep down inside he is like a cuddly teddy bear. Soft, furry, and full of nothing but love! I hope he takes my offer and lets Shamon Entertainment Inc. take him on as a client so we can make him a star. Maybe some hair extensions and a dark tan will change his look drastically! Perhaps a splash of glitter on his face and some flashy clothes will change his image and public persona. He has a great singing voice.

DISCO: Well, uhh, not sure how to tell you. But he is NOT the former lead singer of the Fine Young Cannibals. He is like a legit cannibal. The video I saw led me to believe he feeds off of animals.

SHAMON: So he’s not a vegan. Worse things have happened in the world. You know, like a lack of laptops in third world countries. I sure hope this charity I am involved with really makes a change! I got an email from a guy in Nigeria the other day. He said to send him money so he can get access to some gold that the government has a lien on. Once he gets his hands on it, I will be living like a king!

(The golf cart comes to a stop at the Raging Rapids water ride. The group exits the cart and makes there way to the entrance. A park attendant operating the ride greets them.)

ATTENDANT: Hey there, folks. Welcome to the Raging Rapids. Please take a seat and then you can embark on your journey.

(The attendant has a 40 inch measuring stick in his hands and gives a nod as each person passes by him.)

Whoa…whoa…whoa, there little fella. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you pass.

DISCO: What do you mean? I’m old enough to be your father, you little prick!

ATTENDANT: That may be true, sir, but rules are rules. You have to be at least as tall as this stick to be able to ride.

DISCO: This is bullcrap! I’m Shamon’s best friend. He rented out the park for a day. I’m not a little kid without adult supervision! No one is around, just let me through and turn the other way…IF you know what’s good for you!

ATTENDANT: If I do that and you are hurt, who will be held responsible? I would. I’m not going to turn a blind eye to this. Now the ride only last five minutes, just take a seat on the observation deck and your friends will be with you before you know it.

(The park attendant places the chain across the entrance, denying the Disco Midget entry. The dwarf flips him off with his middle finger, mutters a few unkind words under his breath, and then takes a seat on the observation deck.

Shamon and the Harts begin their journey on the Raging Rapids. They cheer as the ride starts up. Felicia gets hit with a spray of water from above and lets out a scream. A few minutes pass by with them sloshing around. They get to the end of their voyage and plunge down a huge man-made waterfall.

As the Disco Midget looks on he is drenched by a tidal wave from the impact of the vessel crashing down onto the water. The ride comes to an end and everyone exits. SJH is out first, followed by Shamon, but Felicia is having trouble unbuckling her safety belt to exit.

The buckle releases and Shamon gazes at Felicia’s wet clothed body as she descends from the raft. He drifts into a daydream from an old 80’s movie, Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Shamon plays the role of Judge Reinhold and Felicia is the vivacious Phoebe Cates. The song “Moving In Stereo” by The Cars plays in his mind.

Shamon is wearing a tuxedo and Felicia is in a red bikini. She is exiting a swimming pool, a scene that has been played and rewound and then played again in slow-motion for nearly 30 years by prepubescent boys, twentysomethings without girlfriends, and dirty old men.)

(Felicia walks up to Shamon and they embrace in a kiss.)

SJH: Whoa! Shamon, are you sportin’ wood?

(Shamon wakes up from his daydream and upon doing so, realizes he has an erection. He runs over to where Disco is standing and tries to hide his embarrassment.)

SJH: Hey sis, I think Shamon got a boner checking you out.

FELICIA: You are so immature!

(Felicia slaps her brother and walks closer to Shamon.)

SHAMON: Disco, whatever you do…don’t move!

DISCO: Why? (Disco turns his head and almost bumps in to the reason why.) DUDE…get the hell away from me!

(Disco tries to run away, but Shamon continues to uses him as a shield. Felicia is now standing beside them and knows what he is up to.)

FELICIA: Look, stuff happens. I grew up with Shawn and THAT was one of the worst environments you could be in. He started collecting glass dildos in junior high. Ugh.

SHAMON: No…ummm…nothing to see here. I just got a leg cramp. I need to go walk it off!

(Shamon turns around quickly and runs. He enters the restroom by the ride and runs right up the sink. He splashes water on his face and starts talking to himself.)

SHAMON: Come on little Macaulay, please go down. I don’t need this right now. I’ve met the most perfect woman and I am embarrassing myself left and right. Mama-say mama-sah ma-ma-coo-sah. Mama-say mama-sah ma-ma-coo-sah! Mama-say…

(As Shamon chants the coda from “Wanna Be Starting Something” by Michael Jackson his erection slowly subsides. He leaves the restroom and the group is waiting for him.)

SJH: Shamon, you had a lot of GIRTH goin’ on there. You are in the wrong business.

SHAMON: Let’s just try to forget about it and go on another ride. The sun’s going down so to speak. It’s starting to get spooky out here.

DISCO: I’m going over to Kiddie Land. It’s the only place in the park where I don’t get hassled about my size.

SJH: I’ll go with you, I like the spinning teabags…I mean CUPS…teacups.

FELICIA: I saw a cool looking haunted house over on the other side of the park, Shamon. I wouldn’t mind checking it out. Come on, you can protect me.

(CUTTO several minutes later. Shamon and Felicia are entering the haunted house. The couple swings open the giant front doors to the house and step foot into the first room. A robotic monster pops out from a closet and growls; Shamon seems to be more scared of it than Felicia.)

SHAMON: There is something I want to tell you. I’m not like other guys.

FELICIA: Oh no, don’t tell me you are a werewolf. I know you idolize Michael Jackson, but taking me somewhere scary and turning into a beast will not win you brownie points.

SHAMON: (Singing.) It’s close to midnight. Something evil’s lurking in the dark.

(They continue through to house. A man under a white sheet comes out and starts making ghostly sounds.)

SHAMON: Is that a member of the KKK?

FELICIA: It’s supposed to be a ghost. Come on…we are almost done.

(They enter a room that looks like a graveyard. The room is filled with sound effects from any typical haunted house. Suddenly, out from the dirt, a hand emerges from a grave. A zombie slowly creeps out of the grave, then another, and another.

Shamon and Felicia look at each other in a perplexed manner, unsure what route to take to move on. They try a door, but it is locked. They move towards another door and the zombies close in on them, surrounding them with no escape.)

SHAMON: I know how to handle this.

(Shamon stands in front of the zombies and starts shoulder shimmying. He snaps his finger and waves his arm in the air. He rocks his neck left to right and does an overhead clap. Then drags his left foot to his right and repeats the move again.)

FELICIA: Whatever you are doing isn’t working.

SHAMON: It’s supposed to work, I thought zombies liked to dance.

(Shamon continues to dance and the largest zombie grabs him, Felicia lets out a scream. The zombie has some remarkable athleticism for an undead being. The zombie lifts Shamon up in a back breaker. He holds it for a moment and then suplexes Shamon to the floor, following it up with an elbow to his chest. He then stands Shamon up and hits the Diamond Cutter on him.

The zombie goes for the pin, but Shamon kicks out. The zombie lifts Shamon to his feet, but before he can do anything to him the zombie gets kicked in the groin. Shamon rolls him up in a small package and another zombie makes a three count. The zombie rises up and takes off the mask to reveal himself as Shawn Jessica Hart. Another zombie takes off his mask to expose his face to Shamon, it is the Disco Midget.)

SHAMON: What was that for?

SJH: Disco was trying to test you. You are going up against a cannibal and in more ways than one, they have many parallels to zombies. I haven’t had this much fun since I was running around bareback with only a cape on acting like a vampire.

DISCO: We had to do this for your match. You needed to face your fears and conquer them.

SHAMON: I was worried for a minute. Well I know who you two are, but who is the third guy?

DISCO: I thought he worked here.

(The other zombie walks towards them; they collectively look at one another unsure what to do. All four rush the zombie, knocking it down, and head out the exit door. They catch their breath and Shamon looks at the camera.)

SHAMON: I’ve had such a fun time at Beech Bend Park…located in beautiful Bowling Green, Kentucky! (Another plug about the park, as this was part of his deal to rent out the park for a day like his idol once did at Disneyworld.)

DISCO: Is that camera still on? I have something to say! Waubash, don’t try to act like you are the smartest guy in the room. Maybe with Sagawa and some podcast kid, you are. But if you want to match managerial prowess with me…you won’t have the same results! I listened to everything you had to say. You sure don’t think much of Shamon and you know what? That’s how we like it!

So your man draws some stick figures on the wall in finger paint, slurs his words like an alcoholic, and beats up a reporter. How is that impressive? And you…on top of all this…the guy Sagawa relies on to be the brains of the operation. You claim to have done homework on Shamon, but yet you don’t even name the right people he has defeated in the ULTRATITLE tournament. It wasn’t Kevin Powers, it was Lucious Starr…sh*t for brains!

SHAMON: Disco, watch your language...kids are watching.

DISCO: Too late for that! Sagawa…Waubash…I wish you the best of luck. It’s the blind leading the blind. It will be a miracle if either one of you make it to the ring…let alone make it past this man! (Points to Shamon.)

SHAMON: That’s right! I just had the most intense training session in my life! I survived a zombie apocalypse…and I can sure as heck beat anyone after that. Sagawa, you are in big trouble, mister! HEE HEE! OWWW! Courtesy of…SHA…SHA…SHAMON! UHHH! OHHH! HEE HEE!

(Shamon begins to dance, performing more moves from the Thriller music video. He throws his arms in the air and stomps around in a circle.

FADE TO BLACK)

 

[Scumsucker]

[Fade In.]

[We dissolve from blackness to the type of shoddy camerawork that can only be provided by a handheld camera. A shot so gritty that it seems to naturally fit in with the rough and tumble backstreets of Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. And why are we miles away from the area that is heavily populated by tourists? Two words.]

CLW: “DONKEY SHOW!”

[And onto the scene bursts The Beverly Hills Bastard himself, Cameron Lee Waubash. It takes just a fraction of a millisecond to realize that he is half in the bag. Staggering down the road, he is dressed in a pair of knee length khaki cargo shorts, a white wifebeater, and brown sandals. Atop his head rests an oversized sombrero, and in his right hand he clutches ... tequila! That’s right, no McCutcheon’s this time out. I guess “When in Rome” .. or Mexico.

However on his tour of Cabo, this time, he is flanked by a couple of friends and hanger-onners. Nobody too important really. Just a crew of twenty-somethings that are out to have a good time. Turning around, Waubash looks at the camera and practically trips in the process – but manages to catch his balance.]

CLW: “Okay Todd. You got that thing on?”

[The cameraman nods his head, causing the lens to follow suit.]

CLW: “See, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what it’s going to take to help my man move forward in this tournament. And even though we have been thrown a bone in Shamon .. I wanted an edge. So I asked myself ... Cameron? What is it that the people want? What is it that the fans of The UltraTitle Crave? And then it hit me like a sock filled with soap.

PERVERSION!!!

I mean, after all. That is all that seems to get people on the side of Hart and Shamon, right? The dirty jokes? The 2Girls1Cup type of humor?

So here we are ... Tijuana, Mexico!”

[A voice chimes in from off camera.]

Voice: “Cabo”

CLW: “Whatever. I’m lucky I know what my name is right now.”

[Everyone laughs as Waubash hoists up his bottle of tequila and pours it into his gullet – the golden liquid splashing out of his mouth a bit as he does.]

CLW: “But yeah. Here we are in Cabo San Lucas, and the only thing that I could think of to come even close to the levels of tastelessness that has been put out by those two buffoons was a genuine, 100% real donkey show!

You know, the kind of show where some possibly underage Mexican broad gets her rocks off at the hands of a mule? I mean pedophilia, rape, the natural next step is bestiality.. But probably only because we couldn’t get permits to film at the morgue.”

[Cameron shakes his head, a little disappointed at that lost opportunity.]

CLW: “So I took Freddie Sagawa .. Locked him up back in the hotel .. and me and my boys are going to rock this UltraTitle Tournament so hard that it ain’t going to be able to walk for a week!”

[With the rowdy bunch continuing their parade down the street, some not-so-lovely “damas de la noche” flash off their legs and show off their wears in the hopes of luring in some unlucky tourists.]

CLW: “So welcome to the underbelly of Cabo! The place where the true miscreants of society come out to pl-“

[But suddenly the ranting and raving of Cameron Lee Waubash comes to a halt, as Waubash staggers backwards into a gathering crowd of people. A bit confused he turns around to see what is going on. But the view is blocked by the assembled masses. Turning to someone nearby, The Beverly Hills Bastard gives him a nudge ...]

CLW: “Yo. What’s going on?”

[Looking forward, over the head of the crowd the person responds somewhat quietly.]

Man: “I dunno. I guess there was an incident down at “El Palacio de los Burros””

CLW: “. You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s where me and my boys were going.”

Man: “Yeah. I mean it sounds like a load of crap to me, but they said some freak wearing like war paint came out of nowhere and went for the jugular of the donkey."

[The comment causes the eyebrow of Waubash to suddenly spring skyward, as he turns his head in the direction of the man.]

CLW: "Wait a second. What did you say?"

Man: "Exactly. My reaction as well. Some Japanese weirdo came barging in and I dunno .. was trying to eat the donkey or something like that."

[And like a good swift kick to the hang-lo, Waubash has the wind knocked out of him.]

CLW: "!"

[You can say that again! After all, are there really that many crazed Japanese men that wear face paint and have a hankerin' for raw flesh. Shoving the camera out of the way, Waubash goes rushing down the street as we fade to static.

After a few moments, the camera flashes back on and the scene has changed. Sure, we are still with Cameron Lee Waubash. But it now appears that he is sitting on the balcony of a hotel somewhere else in Cabo San Lucas. The shot is no longer grainy, but now appears to be done with a night vision lens. Waubash has lost his shirt, and has kicked his legs up on the railing of the balcony.]

CLW: "What a freakin' week. I can tell you that much."

[Unscrewing the lid off a bottle of water, Waubash takes a long swig as he contemplates his next words.]

CLW: "Ya know, people that are familiar with Cameron Lee Waubash know that I am a little bit of control freak. When I set out to do something I have a well organized and structured plan. And just in case things get thrown for a loop, I always have a back-up plan. It's just the way I am and have always been. Danny Ocean ain't got nothing on me.

But to say that this giant storm that has been my life for the past 10 days or so has unnerved me.. well.. that would be an understatement of epic proportions."

[The normally confident Waubash appears uncharacteristically shaken, as he gazes off in the distance. The words pour forth from him as more of a stream on consciousness than a typical wrestling interview.]

CLW: "It all started with the RingRustRadio incident.

It wasn't planned out in advance, and I knew it was a risk to send a stranger into the depths of Freddie Sagawa's domain. But it was a calculated risk.

I've seen Freddie work - albeit from a distance. And I know that before he attacks anyone, he always lets out his war cry. Gwai-Lo wanna die. As long as I was in position to spring to his rescue, I could just about guarantee that no harm would come Mr. Simmons' way. And that is exactly how things went down. Like I envisioned them in my head. And if you go to RingRustRadio and ask Rusty, he'll tell you the exact same thing. Not a scratch. Not a bruise. Just nightmares that will last an eternity.

Stupid? Possibly. But it was a risk that I thought was worth taking. Just so I could shut up everyone out there that said I wasn't giving The Kochi Cannibal a voice.

But the backlash I received. Maybe I should have seen it coming, sure. But the extent that it went to ..."

[His eyes still gazing off into the distance, he shakes his head back and forth in disbelief.]

CLW: "That's probably why the second time you heard from me I was a wee bit hot under the collar. Because even though I am always trying to present this laid back, calm, cool, and collected attitude .. eventually you just can't take any more. All the negativity. All the hate. It just starts to gnaw away at your insides like some sort of emotional ulcer. It just pounds on your last nerve until you have no choice but to lash out. And that's what happened."

[Waubash shrugs his shoulders half-heartedly, in a "nothing we can do about it now" kind of way.]

CLW: "But deep in my mind, I knew that I could afford to let off a little bit of steam and recover on this trip to Cabo.

I knew that by taking my camera and my buddies to a donkey show - I could draw a great parallel. I could point out to the entire wrestling audience how outlandish .. how ridiculous and absolutely unnecessary all the sophomoric hijinx have been.

I mean for two rounds now, Sagawa has had to go to war with people that don't take themselves seriously. So can somebody please tell me how the hell _I_ am supposed to?

Just thought I would fight some fire with fire .. for lack of a better term."

[He laughs softly to himself, and nods his head and his reminisces on what could have been.]

CLW: "I had this whole little joke neatly constructed in my head, about how I was going to compare Shamon to a Saturday Night Live skit. You know. The skits that are really one joke that drags on way too long until some hotshot Hollywood producer tries to take that same 30 second skit to the big screen for almost two hours. Those skits that make you want to take a straight razor to your wrists? Ya know what I'm talking about?

And sure, I would have peppered it with some wordplay .. because that is what I do.

I do talk alot.

And I talk a damn good game. But frankly, my head just isn't where it's supposed to be right now."

[Shifting nervously in his chair, The Beverly Hills Bastard cracks his knuckles and rests his elbows on his knees as he props his feet back on the ground. Maybe finding some confidence inside, he turns and looks into the camera.]

CLW: "But slow down Shawn and Shamon. Don't go raising your hands in victory just yet. Because me being off my game has absolutely nothing to do with either of you. It has alot more to do with the fact that I feel I am loosing my grip on The Kochi Cannibal. A man that I once felt I could bend to my will .. well .. tonight he went a bit too far."

[And just like that ... *snap* ... the perplexed Cameron Lee Waubash returns. As he continues to talk, his voice just radiates with confusion.]

CLW: "Everything that happened with the donkey show .. and the police .. this isn't I could have dreamed up if I tried. It just all hit me like a cold glass of water in the face.

In the past I have talked about how dangerous and lethal Freddie Sagawa is .. was .. I don't know. But I always had a confidence that I could take all that maniacal aggression that he had and channel it in a direction that was mutually beneficial to both of us. Now ..

I dunno ...

Nothing is for certain."

[His voice trails off a bit as he takes a drink from his bottled water, and pops up out of he seat to lean against the railing. But relax folks, he ain't gonna jump. At least, I hope not.]

CLW: "Hell, things are so bad right now that I left him in some jail cell, just so I had a modicum of a chance at clearing my head. And Shamon .. to be 100% honest with you - a clear head on Cameron Lee Waubash is _your_ best chance at survival. Not just in The UltraTitle Tournament. But in professional wrestling. Hell .. maybe even in existence.

So yeah, maybe I f'ed up the name of your first round opponent. That is the least of my worries. Right now my biggest concern is making sure that when Freddie Sagawa walks into that arena for Round 3 of this tourname-"

[Despite the night vision lens, you clearly see the screen of Waubash's cell phone light up. Noticing it as well, Waubash holds up a single finger.]

CLW: "Hold on."

[With his thumbs he scrolls through what appears to be a text message. As each line passes, his eyes grow wider and wider.]

CLW: ".

My biggest concern is making sure that The UltraTitle Brass will even allow him to compete.

.

.

."

[Turning around, Waubash flings his phone across the balcony until it crashes against the stucco wall of the hotel - shattering to pieces. Angrily his stalks towards the camera, talking to himself as it does.]

CLW: "When it rains it frickin' pours."

[We abruptly ...

Fade to Black.]