(FADEIN to an empty ring in an empty gym we’ve seen before. Lifeless punching bags and weightlifting stations sit outside the ring, unused. Anarky is in the ring, his EPW World Heavyweight Title around his waist, his full skull facepaint on. Standing under a single light, he smiles.)
ANARKY: “So this is your great manifesto, Dis. This is your idea of leadership. Your vision of the future.
“It’s no wonder you talk so f*cking much, Dis, about how things should be… because you have done so f*cking little.
“You go on and on about how I could talk to Dan Ryan and demand you get a title shot, but you never take the time to explain why I should bother.
“It never even occurred to that tiny little brain of yours that I actually agree with Dan Ryan. I don’t really give a sh*t if you get a title shot because, let’s face it… the only thing you’ve done to earn it is talk about it. Talk, talk, talk. That’s what you do.
“Do you even wrestle here, Dis? Because I am trying to remember what you did, exactly, to earn a title shot, and I am coming up empty. You say Sad King a lot, so I guess if the measure of a No. 1 Contender is how often they use the word Sad, you are f*cking lights out.
“So you want me to go beg Dan Ryan for you to get a title shot because you think you cried enough for one? Why? Why the f*ck should I care?
“The truth is, Dis, that I don’t. I didn’t tell Dan Ryan to do it cause I don’t think you deserve it. You STILL don’t deserve it. You’ve done nothing. You are a f*cking disgrace, and a joke.
“And the worst part is, everybody knows it. I might laugh at Stalker getting a title shot, but at least he’s wrestled in a few matches here. You? You’ve done nothing. You’re a petulant child who complained his way to the top. Am I supposed to be scared? Impressed?
“You know what I don’t go around beating the sh*t out of everybody who mocks me? Cause I am not an insecure teenager. I don’t give a sh*t if you and Stalker and everybody else in the locker room thinks I don’t deserve it. It means NOTHING to me.
“I go out there, night after night, and I fight. You know, fighting… in matches? The thing that wrestlers do? You wouldn’t understand because you’re too busy running your mouth to bother actually proving yourself in the ring. But most of us actually fight in matches now and again.
“See, that’s the difference between me and you, Dis. You are so f*cking concerned with how things are SUPPOSED to be, you forget how things are.
“In your world, I’m supposed to apparently tell everybody not to say anything mean to me or else I’ll count to three, and I’ll challenge anybody who can pick up a microphone to a World Title Match because otherwise, I’m just a sissy.
“With a bad name.
“Really, Dis? You wanted to be the lucky thousandth wrestler to make fun of the name I gave myself in 1996? This is your f*cking A-grade material? This is what we have to look forward to when you’re the EPW Champ?
“Excuse me for being unimpressed. Unimpressed with your lack of record. With your lack of creativity. With your lack of anything at all.
“You injured someone in a locker room. Wow. Impressive. Maybe someday, you’ll actually injure a real, live opponent in a ring. Perchance to dream, right?
“I am really looking forward to your reign, Dis. The clouds will part and the sun will shine and the birds will sing and we will all herald the glory of our new King or Queen!
“And so we will live in a utopia where Dis puts us all ‘on notice’, whatever that means, for saying mean things, and you don’t wanna make Dis mad, and then Dis gives a shot to Aaron Jones, because Aaron Jones can pick up a microphone and talk and therefore deserves it as much as Dis, and of course, we will all revel in this new glory… this new Empire.
“But first, Dis, you’ll have to do something you haven’t managed to do quite yet: beat me in a ring. Not in a locker room. Not in a nickname competition. And not in a Who Can Make the Most Vague References to the Past contest.
“But an actual, real, wrestling match.
“And since I’m already such a Sad King who doesn’t even want the belt, I guess there’s barely any point to actually fighting… I mean, why should I show up when I’m clearly overmatched… when I clearly don’t belong?
“Let’s just say, though, that I do show up. And let’s say that for some reason I’m not as sad and pathetic as you think. Let’s say… that suddenly I keep seeming to have this bad habit of kicking out of pin attempts, and getting back up, and I keep hitting you, and hitting you…
“… and what if you do come up short? What if you can’t dethrone the Sad King?
“… well, I guess the only question is… if I’m not worthy… then what does that make you?”
(FADEIN to a small, comfortable-looking living area. An unidentified man dressed in a suit is sitting in a leather-backed chair and smiling at the camera. Sitting across from him is Anarky, leaning back in his similar chair, drinking a Miller High Life.)
MAN: “Hello, and my name is Brian Miller. I’m here with the Wrestling Independent Vlogzine, and today, we have a special treat. A no-holds barred interview with current Empire Pro World Heavyweight Champion, Anarky. A pleasure to be here with you, Champ.”
ANARKY: “No, no, the pleasure is all mine, your publication sounds totally legitimate.”
MILLER: “Indeed it does. Thank you for your time.
“Now, you have an upcoming match at Russian Roulette against someone going by the name of Dis. For those who don’t know, Dis was, in the past, revealed as none other than EPW legend Lindsay Troy. However, current technology has hidden Dis’ current identify rather well.
“Is it difficult to prepare for a match against an unknown opponent, especially on such an enormous stage?”
ANARKY: “No more difficult than any other match. The truth is… I’m not exactly what you’d call a... mat tactician. I’m not Karl Brown. I don’t tend to vary my moveset depending on the style and substance of my opponent. If it bleeds and can be punched… that’s usually the plan. Usually. Sometimes there’s large objects, which helps, too.”
MILLER: “You don’t seem anxious as to the identity of Dis… have you speculated at all about who Dis might be?”
ANARKY: “Certainly, I have privately considered Dis’ identify. But ultimately, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Dis is whoever it is… it could be Troy or Stevens or Ice Tre or Stalker or just some nobody clinging to Lindsay Troy’s last hurrah.
“Ultimately, people wear masks for a variety of reasons. Whoever Dis is… it won’t matter. In the ring, they are just another opponent. Just another collection of decaying human cells killing time until it dies like everything else... whatever name it has is inconsequential. Whatever past brought it here... it just that. The past.
MILLER: “And you wear your mask because… ?”
ANARKY: “This is my warpaint. It looks better covered in blood. Preferably not mine.”
MILLER: “Okay, then.
“So, Anarky… you have endured some pretty heavy criticism of your rather unconventional reign as EPW Champion from your fellow wrestlers. Do you think you’re a good champion?”
ANARKY: “Y’know what… nobody’s ever asked me that before. I guess because most people are so excited to hear the sound of their own voice and opinions, nobody really gave a sh*t.
“I don’t know what it means to be a good champion. I know what other people say. I know Impulse believes a Champion should wear the belt proudly and defend it with great honor. I know First believes a man should do anything to prove his worth to the title. I know Dis believes a Champion should instill fear and desire in the hearts of his opponents. I know Stalker’s strongest opinion about it is that Stalker should be pretty heavily involved, either as some kind of puppet master or the champion itself…
“… but… I don’t know.
“We had Champions like that before. Sean Stevens was a proud man. He talked and talked and talked about how great he was.. about how peerless he was. A God among men. We endured this for what… two years. This was Empire’s face. And after him came First, who had something to prove, but ultimately… all of his struggle left him drained, emotionally, physically… and then came me.
“The truth is, it’s not my nature to be proud. Should I apologize for it?
“I just went out, night after night, and did my job. I didn’t ask for any recognition. I didn’t even want it. But the boss decided to throw a tournament, and I can’t resist a good cage match, so… one thing led to another… and here we are.
“So when they seize on my words… when I say I didn’t ask for it… they just… it’s what they do. They twist your words to make you appear weak. I merely pointed out that it was not my sole ambition to be Champion. I know it doesn’t make sense to them. It’s clear. They’re confused. How could someone without ambition triumph?
“But I am what I am. I’m not sorry for it. If they want a different kind of Champion, that’s fine. We all want a lot of things. But I’m not going to go quietly into the night simply because they do not believe I fit their idea of what I should be. That has never been me. Never will be, title or not.”
MILLER: “Interesting. One last question.
“Dis says you don’t have the killer instinct… that you are a passive man… that you let other people call the shots and you lack the determination to be a true leader. Do you think there’s some truth to that?”
ANARKY: “Sure, why not. If we were a company in the free market, I wouldn’t make a very good CEO. I doubt people would follow me. I am not good at strategic realignment or focus groups. I don’t test well with children and the elderly.
“But you know what?
“This isn’t the free market. That’s what they don’t get. All of them.
“I’m not the face of Empire Pro. I am not a f*cking poster boy.
“This is wrestling. This is about getting into the ring and beating the living sh*t out of someone else. It doesn’t matter of Impulse thinks I’m proud enough or First thinks I’m determined enough or Dis thinks I’m bold enough.
“It only matters that I can hit harder, faster, longer… it only matters that at the end of the day, there is no man who can stand in that ring… MY RING.. toe to toe with me.
“This is not a democracy. You don’t get to vote me out. This is an Empire. And you are all children who don’t like how your parents are treating you. Big… f*cking… deal. You want to stop me? Go ahead and try. You won’t be the first.
“This is my Empire until somebody takes it from me. You’re welcome to try, Dis. Try, try, try as you can.
“Just don’t come crying to me if things don’t work out here in reality like they already have in your head. Add me giving a sh*t about your disappointment to the things not on my resume.”
MILLER: “Excellent. Well, Anarky, thank you, and good luck at Russian Roulette.”
ANARKY: “No, thank you.”
(At this he stands up and pulls out an envelope and hands it to Miller, who seems confused and uncertain about why the camera is filming this.)
MILLER: “I, er… thought this was supposed to be… secret?”
ANARKY: “You got your money, now get f*cked.”
(The man shrugs and takes off. Anarky smiles and turns to the camera.)
ANARKY: “All you know about me is what I sold you, Dis… stop acting like your sh*t doesn’t stink. At Russian Roulette… you will know the real me. You and I… we will finally be fine. Your wish granted… an opportunity filled.
“But you know what they say, Dis… careful what you wish for.
(FADEIN to Anarky in front of an Empire Pro logo.)
ANARKY: “Oh, good. Another Power Point presentation from Dis. I never tire of the endless bullet point list of why I’m not worthy of being champion.
“Bullet one. You suck.
“Bullet two. I am great.
“Bullet three. I am going to destroy you.
“Bullet four. See bullet one.
“I mean… listen to you talk, Dis. You say you’ll be a fighting champion. But you aren’t even a fighting challenger. You’ve taken off more nights since the last Pay-Per-View than you’ve wrestled.
“You’re the Mitt Romney of challengers… you talk about how you’re all pro-business, but you’re still coasting on your reputation from a decade ago. You collect a paycheck, and make sure your hair looks good in the mirror. Assuming there’s hair under there, anyway.
“You know what I do while you’re sitting around, coming up with reasons I don’t measure up? Wrestling. Sometimes in tag matches. Sometimes in non-title matches.
“Apparently, that’s not good enough for Dis. No, Dis, who has wrestled once in the last several months, thinks I needs to be demanding that I defend my title to anybody and everybody who asks.
“You want the truth, Dis?
“Fine. I’ll give it to ya. But you ain’t gonna like it.
“There’s a lotta talent on this roster, Dis. Guys like Rezin, Larry Tact, Rich Mahogany... they all have the potential to wear this belt. But it takes more than potential.
“After WrestleVerse IV… not a single worthy opponent actually asked for a title shot. If someone had, I would’ve gladly given it to them.
“Impulse is too busy trying to earn his keep by making the Intercontinental Title worth something. First is trying to rebuild his reputation in the tag circuit. High Flyer… Eddie Burns… Adrian Willard… they got a little ways to go.
““Which leaves you and Stalker.
“You have done nothing. You wrestled a single match against some Russian guy at WrestleVerse. And that was pretty much it. Though it didn’t stop you from mentioning my name every other sentence for the last several months.
“Stalker is a petulant child who can’t be given a title shot simply because you can’t reward children for throwing temper tantrums. He keeps stomping and kicking his feet about how he had this grand plan to help First win the title and then he’d get his shot, except of course that First failed and poor ol’ Stalker had to get back in line and earn it.
“So what were my options, Dis? I could start pounding on Adrian Willard’s door and demanding he fight me for an EPW World Title shot he certainly hadn’t earned, or… I could just keep fighting in the matches they book me until somebody earned it or Dan Ryan just gave the shot to someone who didn’t.
“In this case… you.
“It’s not an ideal situation, Dis, but that’s life. I wish we lived in a world where there were 20 legitimate contenders to this title and I got to face a new one each week. But that’s not the world we live in.
“All I ask of a contender is that they get into the ring and f*cking earn it. That’s it. It’s not that difficult. Win a few matches. Move up the ranks. I did it. What’s so f*cking difficult?
“But not for you, Dis. That was too much. You couldn’t be bothered getting your hands dirty with actual matches. You just sit in the locker room with a microphone. That’s your best move… the backstage interview. That’s your f*cking finisher.
“So somehow you whined you way to the top. Congratu-f*cking-lations. How that earned you the right to question my legacy is a little beyond me, but hey… here we are. I don’t call the shots, and as I’ve attempted to explain to the dull mass where you brain should be… I don’t really care.
“I don’t mean to insult anybody in this business. Honestly… guys like Copycat and High Flyer have been busting their tails for a long time to get to where they are… but at the end of the day… I’m old fashioned.
“I believe a title shot should mean something. It should be earned. Night after grueling night.
“But if the title shot means nothing… if anybody with a mask and a name can demand a shot… then what is it worth? What has been earned?
“Nothing. It’s just something you feel you’re entitled to. Because you’re special. Because your Mommy and Daddy believed in you and you have a dream of being Champion. Because you really, really, really want it.
“Well too f*cking bad.
“Maybe I can’t stop you from fighting for a title I don’t think you’ve earned a shot at. Maybe I can’t stop you from trying to drag my name through the mud to further your own self-glorification.
“But I can get into that ring and protect the Empire. I can make sure everybody in the backstage knows that at the end of the day… if they want to raise their hands and be called Champion… it won’t be because they were entitled.
“It’ll be because they got into that f*cking ring and earned it. By pinning these shoulders to the mat.
“I know this sh*t is temporary, Dis. Someday, someone is gonna be the better man or woman. Someday, I’m gonna take a split-second too long to react, and I’m gonna eat a brainbuster or a spinning heel kick and I’m not gonna get up.
“This... this is all I have... this moment... this chance to keep proving this title means something. This opportunity... not to write MY legacy... but to write the Empire’s legacy. Not a legacy of bravado and title shots like candy... but a title that represents what I went through...
“I wish I could explain it so you could understand it… but you’ll never understand. It means nothing to you. Doing things the old fashioned way.
“You were demanding a shot before you even wrestled your first match. That’s how f*cking entitled you are. That’s how much you think your name is worth. Your past... your history... why should anybody question you?
That’s what you are Dis. A name. An idea. A long tirade about how nobody measures up but you, the guy or girl who once won a singles match at WrestleVerse.
“I’m a wrestler, Dis. The belt doesn’t change that. That might not be enough for you, but it’s enough for me.
(FADEIN to a balcony overseeing Boston Harbor. Anarky is sitting on a chair, smoking a cigarette, a Harpoon ale in his other hand. He seems relaxed.)
ANARKY: “I am beginning to wonder if there’s any point at all to speaking to you, Dis. I say words. You seem to nod your head and understand, but then you open your mouth and I can’t help but think you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.
“I’m disappointed, Dis. You seem to have a basic grasp of English in theory, but in practice… well… you’ve developed a not-very-rare disease that’s quite common in professional wrestlers. I call it Ionlyhearwhatiwantitis.
“It’s probably too late for you now. It’s clearly gone on untreated for too long. The symptoms are all there.
“I say I didn’t believe there was anybody so worthy of a title shot that I felt compelled to go tell Dan Ryan to set something up for me. You hear that only I can decree who is worthy.
“I say Stalker doesn’t deserve a shot simply because you don’t reward terrible behavior with title shots. It’s the same reason we don’t negotiate with terrorists. But you heard… nothing, apparently, because you seem totally unaware I even have an opinion on it.
“I say it doesn’t matter what anybody thinks of me. You hear me complaining that people are misinterpreting my words.
“Dis, I know small children with learning disabilities who have much sharper comprehension skills than you.
“You just don’t get it.
“I’ve been doing this for fifteen years, Dis. My legacy was cemented before I even walked in the door. I don’t need to whip it out and prove how big it is. Just because you keep repeating what you think my legacy is means nothing to me.
“If Rich Mahogany wants to walk around like he’s the cock’s walk… let him. That and four-fifty will get him an iced latte at Starbucks. The f*ck do I care?
“If Dan Ryan decides he’s earned a title shot, great. If not, I’m certainly not going to fall over myself trying to prove what a tough guy I am by begging for a rematch to save my reputation. Again… I simply do not care. Guys like you and Rich are going to believe you’re the sh*t no matter what reality is. I learned that a long time ago. If actual results humbled people, this would be a significantly different business.
“Yet this is all pretty typical. Most people can’t get it through their thick skulls that I stopped worrying about what other people think a long time ago. I do this for my reasons. If that’s not enough for you, I’m sure your therapist would love to hear all about it.
“What baffles me, Dis, is that you have the audacity to call me a hypocrite, when you yourself spew so much sh*t out of your mouth, I’m starting to think you just might be the single most ignorant person I’ve ever spoken to. And I’ve spoken to Cameron Cruise several times.
“I mean, really, Dis. You literally said the words, ‘I seek out challenges.’
“Really? Cause I keep looking at your vaunted history here, and you do not, in fact, seem to have a very long history of seeking out anything but attention. You’re like a 15 year old girl on Facebook taking pictures down her shirt. You want to play the vixen, but we all know you’re an overweight virgin.
“Or your cute little tirade about how you’re going to prove how much I care about the title by breaking my arm. And your proof will be… me not submitting?
“Are you new, Dis? Is this your first time in a wrestling ring?
“Do you know what other kinds of matches I don’t submit in? Tag matches. Singles matches. Untelevised house cards. Bingo halls.
“I mean, for f*ck’s sake, Dis. You could at least pretend to know what’s going on around here.
“But no, you’ve too busy telling me how you’d do things if YOU were Champion. You would be hopping mad at Rich and demand a rematch. You would defend the honor of the title that Rezin wanted to destroy.
“Those are your favorite words. ‘I Would.’ Like a child… yes, if YOU were in charge, there’d be candy canes and gum drops on pizza and no bed times EVER, right, Dis?
“The sad truth is, these words all ring hollow. I know you aren’t going to understand a godd*mn thing I say because you simply aren’t capable of grasping how someone like me could exist.
“A man can lead without seeking to become a leader. A man can be a champion without bragging about being a champion. A man can build a legacy by not worrying about his legacy.
“That’s what gets me outta bed in the morning. This body… it aches every f*cking time I lace up those boots. I mean.. how many matches do I really have left? How many more years can I endure this sh*t before I collapse like a dying star?
“Accolades? The respect of my peers? A reputation of intimidation and power?
“You can have them, Dis. You and Rich and Impulse and Adrian Willard and Larry Tact and Copycat. You can have a big party and all pat yourselves on the back for being so proud and good and worthy.
“… and I still won’t care.
“But I do care about some things, Dis. Just not the petty bullsh*t and validation you do.
“For instance… the last two years, while I’ve been doing the bare minimum, as you say… I scratched and clawed my way through this league. I took everyone they threw at me, and I came out the other side. I defined myself… and I further defined what it meant to earn this belt, just as those who came before me. With less pride, perhaps… but still. It was my way. My path.
“And the idea that some self-congratulatory primadonna could waltz in here and act like they had earned anything but an eye-opening ass-kicking… well… it doesn’t sit well with me.
“I guess in that sense, I do care what you think, Dis. Because what you think is stupid and someone should punch you in the mouth.
DIS: [Voice distorted] The time for talking is running out.
Soon actions will speak louder than words.
You want to punch me in the face?
Go right ahead.
Then punch me twenty or thirty more times.
Then start hitting me with all the big moves you can think of.
I want your best.
So when I beat you you’ll have no excuses.
You are comical to me Sad King.
You tell us all that the insults and jeers of the locker room don’t affect you.
Yet you felt the need to hit the ring and make the crowd swear and insult those who detract and smear you.
A person who wasn’t cracking under the pressure of the failure of their title reign wouldn’t resort to such cheap stunts to try to rally the fans to their side.
He’d take care of business in the ring by beating down those who mocked him.
But the great Sad King has a short list of those even allowed to set foot in the ring with him.
So humble and so lacking in pride he is.
That he’ll only fight a chosen few and only then if one of those chosen few asks for him to give them a match.
Truly a sign of a humble man.
Thank goodness you took the title and make it so we finally don’t have a champion with an over-inflated ego.
Now we have a champion who needs not defend his title because nobody’s good enough to give him a challenge.
But he’s really humble.
Amid all the hubris and the conceit that drips off the Sad King he won’t let you forget for one second what a truly regular guy he is.
He’ll tell you how he’s spent the last two years kicking the ass of anyone Empire Pro Wrestling has put in front of him and dominated the competition, but he says this while being really modest about his abilities.
I’m stunned the Humblebrag twitter feed doesn’t have a subsection devoted to quotes by the Sad King.
A man who’s really bad at the whole game of arguing.
You see for those of you who haven’t been listening to the back and forth between us I’ve brought up the fact that the he sounds like a whining pathetic little b*tch for telling the world he never asked to be champion.
And he’s never really explained how he’s won that title or why he did it or why he hates it.
Maybe it’s some more of that trademark Sad King modesty.
But he’s decided that two can play the game of attacking a quote their opponent has said and used it as a hammer to beat them into submission with.
And what have I said that he’s decided to call me out on and show me to be a fool.
The statement that I seek challenges.
He tells me I’m a liar and a fraud because he doesn’t see me undertaking any challenges.
I can’t believe the man could be this blind.
How can he not see what is right in front of his face?
I’ve spent my whole time since my debut here doing nothing but seeking a match for the Empire Pro Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship.
I’m seeking to fight the man who holds that title and because of that is universally known as the best wrestler in the world.
My whole existence is to seek out the greatest challenge I can find.
And to beat the best.
You’re the best Sad King.
I don’t like it because of the person you are and the attitude you have.
Your fake humility and your sickening cockiness that shines through.
But you hold that title all the same.
So it’s you I have to beat to get what I want.
And once I’ve completed this challenge and I’ve defeated you I will undertake another challenge.
To restore glory and honor to the title.
To defend it not just when I am pushed and prodded to do so by management.
But because I want to prove myself to anyone and everyone who wants a shot at me.
I will have no lists of worthy and unworthy.
For anyone who wants to prove their worth will but need to sign the contract and get in the ring with me and we’ll see right then and there if they have what it takes.
For all the talking you do about how much you love being in the ring you sure do seem to love just sitting on your throne and arrogantly declaring how meager the competition in Empire Pro Wrestling is.
Well I’m going to do something about it.
I’m going to hit you and keep hitting you till you break.
You claim you don’t want to quit.
Well I don’t want you to quit.
I want you broken and maimed.
I want you to pay for what you’ve done to this company.
For the way you’ve dragged its title through the mud.
You talk about how your legacy was secure before you even won that belt.
Your legacy was that of a violent thug who was good for a fight.
Some nobody who the fans could count on to put up a good scrap but by the end of the night he’d be forgotten about because other far more interesting wrestlers had taken the stage.
Then you had your run through King of the Cage and won the title and maybe just maybe you could do something to leave a lasting impression.
Do something so that you could be known for the talent you were.
But you refused to even try.
You just sit back and do whatever you are told to do.
You take your orders and you kneel before Dan Ryan.
You went from being the tough guy to a company lapdog.
It’s amazing that someone could tarnish their legacy by becoming a World Champion.
But you pulled it off.
You showed the world that rather than be a champion you would rather just do your job and go home.
Just cashing paychecks and doing as little as possible to keep the money coming in.
Even as champion you skate by doing that.
Because you refused greatness I have to do this to you.
I have to leave you broken and defeated.
I’ll walk out of that ring with the title as the medical workers get an air cast on your arm.
When you get to your feet and the crowd cheers you as you’re walked out of that ring I’d like for you to soak in those cheers.
To listen to those fans who’ve supported you through all these times.
And I want you think about how you never really laid it on the line for them.
How you really never pushed yourself to be the best for them.
I want you to regret the mistakes you made.
I want you to think back to your epic battles against The Fraud and the False Prophet and myself and I want you to wish you had fought more people.
That you wish had gone toe to toe with the Sad Prince.
That you think about how much fun it would have been to silence the Lunatic.
That it would have brought the crowd to it’s feet when you crushed Johnny Come Often and redeemed yourself for being beaten by him.
I want you to think about all those chances you’ve missed and how you’ll never get them back.
Cause after this you’ll never be on the biggest stage again.
You’ll never hold that belt again.
And if you are smart you’ll never wrestle again.
You claim you didn’t ask for any of this.
Well it doesn’t matter what you say because at Russian Roulette
(FADEIN to an all black screen. Then white text appears, which says Presenting... , which then fades and is replaced by... As the Champion Turns... which fades and is replaced by... Directed by “Dis”... fades to black.)
(CUTTO: A small, thin man dressed as Anarky, in skull facepaint and his ring gear. He’s sitting on an oversized throne and wearing a Burger King hat in the middle of an empty field with nobody around. He has a fake plastic belt he’s rubbing inappropriately.)
FAUXNARKY: “Behold, subjects! I sit before you, loyal peons... your mighty God... you.. unworthy, pitiful children...
“I have thrust my righteous glory upon you, again and again... and yet for some reason, I haven’t been voted Most Popular Wrestler yet! What the frick, guys! I’m the best! I never lose! I am the best at winning! The best!
“But stupid Dis wants me to prove it! God, what a jerk. Why can’t he just leave me alone! Everybody here is so mean! Just because I’m a stupid coward who refuses to do anything doesn’t mean people shouldn’t like me!”
(He starts sobbing uncontrollably. From off-camera comes a man dressed as Dan Ryan wearing a business suit with the words “Ego-Slightly-Deflater” are printed badly on one leg.
FAUXRYAN: “There there, Anarky... I know it’s hard. You’re old and so very sad. We thought you wanted the pretty toy, but it’s made you sad! So very sad!
“There there, I’ll cancel your title defenses against Impulse and Rezin! You can just stay home and play with crayons! You like crayons, don’t you?”
(At this, Fauxnarky sniffles a little bit and looks up.)
FAUXNARKY: “Y-y-yes. Promise I won’t have to fight anybody? You swore I get to pick the matches from on!”
FAUXRYAN: “I promise! Just please stop crying. Your therapy sessions are driving up the health care costs for everybody! You need to learn to develop a debilitating drug problem like most wrestlers.”
FAUXNARKY: “Thanks, dad.”
FAUXRYAN: “I’ve told you I’m not your father, Anarky. We’ve talked about this.”
(Suddenly, an enormous black man in a Dis mask shows up. The bulge in his pants is comically oversized to the point of being difficult to walk. When he talks, his voice is replaced by an 8-year-old girl.
FAUXDIS: “No! I will not stand by and let you tarnish the legacy I built! I built the Empire with my bare hands uphill in the snow both ways! If it wasn’t for me, EPW would be trash! Everybody would be trash! You’re trash!
“Stupid Anarky! You’re so stupid and dumb. You don’t even know who I am! I could be anybody! I could be Lindsay Troy again!”
FAUXNARKY: “But you’re clearly an enormous black man.”
(FAUXDIS: “Now give me your belt. You’re clearly too much of a punk to handle it. Luckily for you, I’m still great at stuff. Bye!”
(They all wave happily goodbye to each other.)
(CUTTO:Anarky is sitting on a couch in a No. 88 Hakeem Nicks New York Giants jersey, drinking an Elm City Lager, smiling happily.)
ANARKY: “Hey, Dis! I hope you enjoyed that fun little video I made for ya. I figured since you weren’t gonna listen to me anyway, you might as well listen to you. I must admit, your vision of reality is... appealing. It’s cute. Comforting. And it comes built in with a happy ending where big bad egotistical Anarky gets what he deserves.
“You’re welcome, Dis. What can I say, I was feeling generous.
“At some point, I have to accept the fact that you aren’t going to come around and suddenly become some sort of rational, thinking adult.
“I’m sorry you take such personal offense to my desire to actually speak to the fans who spend their hard-earned money to watch me inflict violence upon the oh-so-deserving...
“And I’m sorry I don’t schedule matches the way you wish I did. Really, I am. I want to. Really, I do. But it’s just, look, I’m really busy with wrestling on television a lot. You remember that, right? You used to do that all the time back in the day!
“And I’m also sorry that I didn’t previously ask for permission to repeatedly punch you in the mouth, though I appreciate you going ahead and giving me permission anyway. It’s like you’re classy enough for the both of us.
“In addition, I apologize for implying that you do not seek challenges. For some idiotic reason I thought you were a take-all-comers kinda guy. You were stickin’ up for the little man, like Rezin, and Impulse! You obviously can’t be bothered to sully yourself with such trivialities, worthless drivel that they are... but... gosh. I mean, obviously once you beat me, you’ll take on all comers! But, until then, I mean, why bother, right? Probably gets in the way of all the sexin’ you probably do. Man, I’m jealous.
“But most of all, I’m sorry to you, and everybody else, for not being the Champion you wanted. I promise from here on out that I’ll sign all of the babies and shake hands with women in pant suits a lot more.
“The truth is, I’m just scared. I just want everybody to like me. And you clearly don’t. You’re so angry at me for being a spectacular failure that you’re going to maim me and break my arm! Did you know that nobody has ever threatened to injure me before? Never! In all these years! Weird, right?
“So thank you, Dis. For opening my eyes. For making me see the glorious light that is your essence as the One True Leader To Lead Them All.
“Me... as you say, I was just a cheap thug before you met me. Just fightin’ hobos at the train station. Pullin’ tricks for outta town business dudes. It was a sad life, no doubt.
“But now that you’re here, the Empire can live on!”
(He smiles and laughs and takes a nice long sip of beer, finishing it off.)
ANARKY: “You’re right about one thing, Dis. The time for talking is about done. One way or the other... this is going to end.
“In your brain, it already has... I’m just a dead man walking... a worthless nothing who should crawl back into the hole he came out of... a bitter disappointment.
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep, Dis. I don’t know what the future holds. But I know one thing.
“You aren’t the first to say he’s gonna really hurt me and destroy my legacy, leaving me ashamed, broken, battered worthless...
“Not the first. Not the last.
“Just like the Empire would go on whether or not you chose to get all self-righteous on us...
“Me... I’ll still be here tomorrow. Ready to bleed... ready to drag this f*cked up body through that meat grinder one more time... belt or not belt... Dis or no Dis.
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