Jeffrey Roberts, sitting on the couch in an Armani suit. His long black hair is pulled back in a ponytail and he's wearing horn-rimmed glasses. There's a pencil over his left ear and a very cool tie with some odd Japanese Sanyo character on it. He has one leg crossed over the other, and not even the masculine version. We're talking the hanging girly version.
Roberts: "Dementia? Is that what I have? This is concerning...Justin. I paid those doctors a lot of money to hear a diagnoses that I was psychotic and sociopathic. Never was the word dementia used. There is the possibility that you don't even know what dementia is, Justin. Yeah, I think I'll go with that."
"There were not heated objects coming out of my ass either but....OH wait....hot streak, I get it. Crafty, Justin. Very crafty indeed."
"So you're all about the show, are you? The fans and all that bull****?"
"You don't think I'm dangerous, and that's cool. Most of the time I'm about as kind a man as you could expect to find. You may be interested to know that my five years away from the business were due to an in-ring incident and an unfortunate incarceration, and I know that I've mentioned that before...as it is a required part of my release. Yeah, I actually did carve into a guy in the ring once....Justin. Thing is, the authorities don't share my love for inflicting pain. So, these things happen."
"So, it may be an excuse - but it's an excuse based in fact. And it's simply who I am, not some silly gimmick - which explains using my actual name and not a made up name which in your case is actually a ripoff of an indy fed. Didn't you use the term indy fed when referring to me, Justin? I forget. Ironic."
"I may be a little more dangerous than that child you mentioned, but if you want to give me a pack of matches that's all fine and dandy. Or you know, I could bring my own. I happen to be aware of how to purchase a few boxes at the store. I'm not banned from the supermarket yet."
"And what's so deep about complexity anyway? The only thing complexity did was muck up a perfectly good ritual killing. You stand there and kick a guy fifteen times, knock him on his ass and then as you walk away he gets up, comes up behind you and slits your throat. You may knock me sane, but I might also make you an amputee. Which one concerns you more? And Justin, it's not like I'm some dub off the street. I do happen to have a skill or two up my sleeve. I'm even thinking of having it tattooed on my ass, just so I can be more like you - you who are the ladies man, the super sexy nitwit with the 1995 name."
"What's fantastically different between you and I is your need to be cool. That's funny to me, and if you know me...I just don't laugh much unless there's blood involved. Trust me, Saw 3 had me in stitches.....but me? I'm just here to have fun, Justin. You're here to be entertaining, I'm here to have a little fun. And to win. After all, who enters a sport without meaning to win? That's where the World Championship comes into the picture. You're an unfortunate victim of circumstance, but you're not a standard bearer - not to me. I've actually got a few years on you in the business there, junior."
"There's really nothing unstable about me at all. In fact, I've embraced who I am. I'm not tortured, and I'm not confused. I hear the voices and I indulge them. I don't philosophize. I am what I was born to be, and I act on it. I'm a damn good professional wrestler who has no concept of the word restraint or of the idea of morality. Kids don't ask for my autograph, Justin. Not after the problem in New Jersey back in 2001. Just think, one of the kids in a wheelchair that you spent a day with just to give him a day of hope may have been made paraplegic by the Jeffrey Roberts Foundation."
"I don't care to represent the people, Justin. I only care to represent me."
"I'd actually love to sit around a fire and share battle stories with you. And I'd love to let you in on how I feel about your super sexy counters and weapons history and that secret is.....that.....I'm fine with it. You just do whatever the hell it is you feel you gotta do. Chances are, we could talk about things and I could show you some things and you'd be puking within fifteen minutes. You've got this Hollywood portrait of 'crazy' in your head and you expect me to act a certain way. But trust me, Justin. People like me? You know...the real nutjobs of the world? You just never know what we're gonna do next. There's no script. It's not imaginary bunnies and robots and drugs. I'm clean as a whistle, Justin."
"Ah well, you can be educated - just like everyone else."
"Do your worst, your best....whatever. I'm getting really indifferent about it all the more I think about it. My attention starts to drift the more I listen to you ramble on, so I guess I'll just go ah
Roberts pulls the pencil from the side of his head and absent-mindedly begins to scrawl something into his left forearm.......we see the red fluid mixing in with the graphite as the skin breaks.....