WFW Great Expectations: Copycat (c) vs. Anarky

[PaulNJ21]

The following match is for the WFW World Heavyweight Title. The Angle/RP deadline is Sunday, April 17th 11:59 PM EST. Send all angles to pmiller21@gmail.com

 

[JLevinson]

No Expectations...

(CUEUP: "Raining Blood" by Slayer.)

(FADEIN to a simple room. Anarky sits on a wooden stool and a single lights hangs over him.)

ANARKY: "Respect. It's a funny word. Funnier, still, when people use it. Men like you, Copycat, if I could even call you a man.

"Y'know, 'Cat... I'm not gonna go over our history, 'cause history is sh*t. Don't matter what you've done, Copycat... don't matter who you've beaten. Even me.

"But for a man who claims to be... The Smartest Player in the Game... you sure do say a lot of stupid sh*t. Then again... claiming to be the smartest wrestler is kinda like claiming to be the cutest retard... 'cause either way... at the end of the day, you're still just a retard.

"Just like you, Copycat. No matter how intelligent you might claim to be... let us not forget that you're just a man who gets paid to beat up other men. You can sugercoat it... you can talk about your quest for a title or respect... but in the end... you are what you are.

"See... here's the problem, 'Cat. You claim you want respect. And here I am... trying to figure out... what, EXACTLY, you've done to... EARN respect. I can't make it any simpler for you. I can't explain it with smaller words. If you can't figure it out... then... well... this is going to be much easier than I thought.

"You claim the World Title proves that you're the best wrestler in the business. Funny. Really. So I guess Manson was the best, too. And so was Edmunds. And Michaels. And Wylde. And Psycho. And so on...

"But... you don't really think that, do 'ya, 'Cat? No... that wouldn't be NEARLY hypocritical enough of you. Nah... the only person you respect... is you. Just like... everyone... else. Manson respects Manson. Edmunds respects Edmunds. Me... well... I don't even respect myself, so it's hardly even a fair question.

"Go ahead, Copycat... go ahead and ask each one of these guys who they respect. They'll all give you the same answer: themselves.

"I GAVE you a chance to EARN respect, Copycat. I let you fight me... man to man. One on one. Pretty simple, right?

"And I thought... considering you stand about 4 inches taller and outweigh me by about 60 pounds... and of course... you're towering intellect makes me seem autistic in comparison...

"So it should've been easy. You should've been able to Litterbomb me through the canvas and end it once and for all. And if you had... I would've shaken your hand, if that's what you wanted.

"But you didn't. I gave you the chance and you blew it. It's that simple. I came alone... I came to fight. You didn't.

"And then... then you had the AUDACITY... to claim this meant you were... WORTHY of my respect."

(He shakes his head and pulls out a cigarette and lights it... )

ANARKY: "Y'know what I've learned in the past ten years, Copycat?

"I've learned that nobody respects anyone but themselves. I've learned that every wrestler, from the World Champion on down to the most hapless, pathetic guy... thinks they're the best wrestler ever to step into the ring. I've learned that a World Champion thinks a title proves he's the best... and a Challenger knows it doesn't... until he wins it.

"I've learned that this is a game of egos. I've learned that most wrestlers are just overcompensating for a small penis. I've learned that wrestlers are frail egos with constant need of validation by having their arms raised in victory.

"I've learned that when two men are getting paid to beat the everloving sh*t out of each other, there's no such thing as dignity or morality.

"And y'know what, Copycat? I've learned that there's no reasoning with people like you. I could beat you down... set you on fire... put you out... make you suck my d*ck... make you pay my taxes and clean my house... and you'd still think you were the best wrestler ever to step into the ring.

"I've learned that titles don't mean sh*t. I've learned that size, strength, and intelligence only take you far enough to fall to someone with the will to destroy you."

(He lets out a deep sigh as he puts the cigarette out on the floor with his boot.)

ANARKY: "I'm f*cking tired of this bullsh*t game, Copycat. I'm tired of everyone trying to save this business or prove themselves. And I'm tired of you, Copycat... 'cause you're boring. I've heard this story before a thousand times. Man walks into ring... man doesn't get respect... man fights against all odds... man wins great victory and proves self.

"F*ck you, Copycat. F*ck your hypocritical quest for respect. F*ck your cliches. F*ck your self-serving, egotistical rants about who you are. F*ck your size, your strength, and your intellect. F*ck you for not using them. F*ck your title... your money... your girlfriend.

"I want to tear it all down and start again... I want nothing more than to take what you think belongs to you just so I can see the look of disappointment in your eyes. I want to pin your shoulders to the mat, man to man, just to show you how respect is earned. I want to take the title you so preciously hold and show you what it truly is.

"F*ck me, too, Copycat... f*ck me and my hypocrisy... because in the end... I'm just a little soldier marching in line... my rebellion is quiet and savage... and altogether meaningless.

"But that won't make it any less pleasurable when I look down into your eyes and see failure. It won't take away the smile on my face when I've quieted down that smart little mouth of yours.

"Nothing changes, Copycat... nothing means anything.

"I know you don't believe me. It doesn't matter. I'll show you.

"I'll show you the only way an addict ever really can...

"... by making you bleed."

(FADEOUT.)

 

[JLevinson]

Re: No Expectations...

I really wish this whole views thing would get fixed.

I replied, darnit!

 

[Steve]

The board never lies.

Quiet you fool.

Bruhahahha.

 

[GARTHIsTheLaw]

Doubting yourself

(Cueup: "Holiday" by Green Day)

(Fade in on a clip from last year's Merrython)

Brandon Jacobs: Anarky opens up the bag…. OH MY GOD THE BAG JUST EXPLODED AND A PAINT BOMB HAS BLINDED ANARKY FACE WITH RED AND GREEN PAINT!

(huge crowd pop)

Vic Waters: IT WAS A TRAP!

Jacobs: Copycat knees him in the stomach…. COPYCAT PICKS ANARKY UP FOR THE LITTERBOMB…. HE HITS IT! Copycat rolls him up for the pin! 1--------------------------------------------2-----------------------------------------3!

Ring Announcer: The winner of the match….. COPYCAT!

Crowd: COPYCAT! COPYCAT! COPYCAT!

Waters: Anarky isn’t going to be happy when he gets all of that paint out of his eyes and realizes what has happened here.

(The image freezes on a shot of Anarky's paint-splattered face as he lies on the canvas. After a second, Copycat walks in front of the frozen image, which is apparently part of a computer-generated background. Copycat wears jeans, his trademark beret, and a WFW Copycat "SMARTEST PLAYER IN THE GAME" T-shirt. The WFW World Heavyweight Title belt is draped over his shoulder. He turns to glance at the backdrop)

Copycat: I know how much you love this clip, Anarky, so I thought it'd be only fair to show it to you one more time.

(Copycat turns back to face the camera)

Copycat: So...Anarky-Copycat, Part Three! Everyone knew it had to happen sooner or later. As soon as that number-one contender match was signed for Merrython, I knew who the fans wanted to see get the win. Sean Edmunds and I have had our wars, but he's already been part of the World Heavyweight Title picture here in WFW. But Anarky...for all his time in WFW, he's never really had a chance to be the number-one contender, save the So Cal Rumble, which doesn't really count. Psycho's had a chance, Felix Red's had a chance. Even Jared Wells, for reasons I can't hope to understand, has had his taste of success. And now finally, Anarky's gotten his shot. It's almost kind of inspiring.

(Copycat shakes his head with faux sadness)

Copycat: That's why it's going to be kind of disappointing for me to have to shoot him down once again. Now Anarky, you seem to have this idea that the past doesn't matter. Of course, I could reiterate what I told you the last time I faced you one-on-one, which is that the best indicator of present behavior is past behavior, and it would be all the more accurate, because I was proved right last time...but I'd hate to have to repeat myself. Now mind you, Anarky...the past does matter. You of all people should know that. If I hadn't beaten you last year and gotten you "all riled up," as they say, L.O.V.E. would have never been formed. Chances are, Psycho would have never become the North American champion. Chances are, Jared Wells would never have become the BAD World Heavyweight champion. Chances are, Felix Red would never have become the WFW president. You should be a little more grateful for the past, Anarky. If nothing else, it allowed you to surround yourself with people more capable of success than yourself. Vicarious living, that's the key.

(Copycat laughs emptily)

Copycat: The past -- OUR past, in particular -- has, in some odd way, helped you, Anarky. But as we get set to give it another go one-on-one, I feel it's my duty to inform you that, once again, the past will be your downfall. That's why I've decided to dig up the film clip you see frozen behind me. If you pay attention, you'll see that it illustrates quite nicely the reasons why you're going to come up short yet again, Anarky. Let's take a look at just WHY I beat you the last time.

(Copycat looks behind him as the clip in the background comes alive again)

Brandon Jacobs: Anarky opens up the bag…. OH MY GOD THE BAG JUST EXPLODED AND A PAINT BOMB HAS BLINDED ANARKY FACE WITH RED AND GREEN PAINT!

(huge crowd pop)

Vic Waters: IT WAS A TRAP!

(The clip freezes)

Copycat: I outsmarted you.

(The clip reanimates)

Jacobs: Copycat knees him in the stomach…. COPYCAT PICKS ANARKY UP FOR THE LITTERBOMB…. HE HITS IT! Copycat rolls him up for the pin! 1--------------------------------------------2-----------------------------------------3!

(The clip freezes again)

Copycat: I outwrestled you.

(The clip reanimates)

Ring Announcer: The winner of the match….. COPYCAT!

Crowd: COPYCAT! COPYCAT! COPYCAT!

(The clip freezes)

Copycat: I had the fans on my side.

(The clip reanimates)

Waters: Anarky isn’t going to be happy when he gets all of that paint out of his eyes and realizes what has happened here.

(The clip freezes, once again on a shot of Anarky's paint-splattered face)

Copycat: And in the end, you just didn't have what it took to beat me.

(Copycat turns back to the camera)

Copycat: Do you see the connection yet, Anarky? I'm still smarter than you. I'm still a better wrestler than you. I still have the fans on my side. And though for the past year, you've postured and preened and tried to convince everyone who would pay attention that you can still go like you used to, you STILL don't have what it takes to beat me, or, for that matter, hold the World Heavyweight Title. Nothing's changed. I watched your little promo, Anarky, and do you know what I saw? DOUBT. For all your threats, it's plain to anyone that can read between the lines -- YOU DON'T THINK YOU CAN BEAT ME.

(Copycat adopts a sarcastic look)

Copycat: You didn't say anything you haven't said every time you and I have been on opposite sides of the ring, because you don't know what else to say. "The past doesn't matter" is the best you can do? That is the mantra of a LOSER. That is the mantra of someone desperate to find something, ANYTHING, to maintain his confidence. How's that working for you, Anarky? Does it do anything to convince you that this time, you might not lose? OF COURSE NOT. There is nothing in the world that can convince you of that, although I'm sure you tried. I'm sure you thought about pointing out the victories you hold over me in tag matches, but then you remembered that none of those was really a victory over ME. Sure, you and your buddies in L.O.V.E. made El Arco Iris give up, and sure, you and your buddies in L.O.V.E. managed to put Scotty Michaels down for the count. Jared Wells even holds a pinfall victory over me. But you, Anarky? You've always just been a bystander. And what's more, you have never -- EVER -- pinned my shoulders to the mat. I know you'll deny how much that weighs on your mind. But I know if it didn't, you wouldn't pull out that tired old "the past doesn't matter" line. Nor the "respect doesn't matter" line.

(Copycat cracks a hint of a grin)

Copycat: You didn't think I'd ignore that one, would you? If I hadn't seen the doubts that plague you before, I couldn't have missed it when you busted out that one. I couldn't just SEE the doubts. I could hear them. I could smell them. I could TASTE them. It was OBVIOUS, Anarky -- you didn't believe a WORD of what you said about respect. In the past, I've accused you of living in your own little world, and while I still don't think that's entirely inaccurate, I think it's finally starting to dawn on you just how incapable you are. That victory over Sean Edmunds? I know that didn't do anything for your self-esteem. You needed Felix Red to save your ass early on, and you STILL couldn't get the job done until John Doe beat Edmunds up. And since I know you follow my every move, I know you saw me beat Edmunds at Cherry Blossom Chaos ALL BY MYSELF.

(Copycat adjusts the title belt on his shoulder)

Copycat: At any rate, Anarky, you should know that I'm no longer worried about GETTING respect. This championship belt carries with it an obligation of respect. No, for me, it's now about GIVING respect. And if you want to have any hope of taking this title, you'd better start proving yourself worthy of my respect. You can say respect isn't important, you can say I'm delusional for placing so much emphasis on it, but before you do that, why don't you take a look at THIS...

(Copycat takes the belt off his shoulder and holds it up for the camera)

Copycat: ...and TELL me who's delusional. For the past year, I've been placing huge weight on the importance of respect. For the past year, people have been telling me there's no place in this sport for respect. And for the past year, I've been taking EVERY SINGLE ONE of those doubters and beating the respect out of them. I can tell you're starting to doubt your own resolve, Anarky, but you'd better speed it up if you want to have the right mindset when you and I go at it, one on one, for the third time.

(Copycat puts the belt back on his shoulder)

Copycat: Because no matter what you do, Anarky, I will NOT lose this World Heavyweight Title to someone I don't respect. It's that simple. If you think your will to destroy me is anywhere NEAR as strong as my will to hold on to this championship belt, then it's YOU who are delusional. And THAT, Anarky...

(Copycat cracks a slight grin)

Copycat: ...is just all there is to it.

(Fade out)

 

[GARTHIsTheLaw]

REPLY'D

REPLY'D I say!

 

[JLevinson]

(CUEUP: "Ricochet" by Faith No More.)

(FADEIN to Anarky, leaning back in a leather recliner in a small living room with an entertainment center to the right. The room seems almost entirely devoid of decoration. He looks passive... and to drive the point home, he lets out a long, almost impressive yawn.)

ANARKY: "Are you... quite done, Copycat? Tell me... do you have anything worth saying? Anything at all? Even the... slightest... wisdom to impart on us?

"Or will you continue to spew forth this garbage from your mouth... over... and over... and over... and over again.

"Good for you, Copycat. You managed to show a videotape from a wrestling match a year ago. Twice. In the same promo. That's got to be a record, Copycat. I mean... I've heard of people having nothing to say... but to have so little... to have to show that... TWICE... I mean, really... man... living in the past. Holy sh*t.

"You know what I just saw, Copycat? Here. I'll show you. This is you."

(He stands up and turns on the television, which shows Copycat pinning Anarky in a freeze-frame. He turns his back to the camera and seems to be making a... masturbatory gesture with his right arm.)

ANARKY: "I'M PINNING ANARKY! I'M PINNING ANARKY! YES! YES! OH YEAH! YESSSS! HARDER! YEAH! F*CK YEAH! OHHHHHH YESSSSS I'M PINNINNGGG ANAAARRRKYYYY I'M CUMMMMMINNNNNGGGG YESSSSSSSSSSS!!!"

(He lets out a ridiculous squeal and then turns around and smiles before seating himself calmly again, still leaving the image on the screen.)

ANARKY: "Congratulations, Copycat. You just set a new record for the amount of verbal masturbation in a promo. I mean... sh*t... I've heard Manson say some crazy sh*t... but you... you take the f*cking cake.

"Seriously. Congratu-f*cking-lations."

(He smiles and claps wholeheartedly before settling down again.)

ANARKY: "I wish you would say something, Copycat. Anything. Just... a single thing. I wish you'd tell me about the weather. Or what kind of boots you wear. Because at least then I might learn something. At least then I wouldn't be forced to want to gag myself out of the violent reaction I have to listening to you jerk yourself off on camera for several minutes.

"And still... you don't get it. I try to explain it to you... but you're too dumbfounded... too caught up in telling me how great you are. You think you're great, Copycat? Really? I HAD NO F*CKING IDEA YOU HAD YOURSELF IN SUCH HIGH REGARD.

"For a second there, I thought maybe you had self-esteem issues. But no, then you opened your mouth again and told me that you are, in fact, an awesome wrestler, and quite possibly invincible. Probably not even human. That's nice. Really. I never tire of it. Seriously.

"You keep playing over this moment in your mind... on our screen. You're like a man who flips a coin once... twice... and gets heads and says to himself... 'By golly, this coin is going to come up heads every time I ever flip it.'

"For a man claiming to be so smart... you're pretty f*cking autistic, no? I mean... I'm not saying you don't have the capacity to learn... just that you've been kissing your ass so much that it's a wonder you can even breathe.

"Yet I digress. The truth is, Copycat, you did beat me. Good. Nice. Now let's move on, shall we?

"Except that we can't. It's amazing. And you know what the best part about it is? I don't even have to be wrestling you.... and you STILL brag about it. You STILL walk around telling everyone, 'Oh look at me, I beat Anarky, I proved how ineffective he was.'

"Tell me, Copycat... is that really the highlight of your career? A match from a year ago when you pinned me while I was blinded? Kudos to you. I'd never been pinned before, Copycat. Never. Ever. In fact, you were the first person ever to do it. And you're obviously the best. Obviously, since you've beaten me before, I could never, ever, ever, ever beat you. Ever. It's not even possible.

"Does Icekold know that you're autistic, Copycat? Or have you just kept it secret with your vocabulary? 'Cause the way I see it... YOU'RE the one continuously dwelling on the past.

"Who gives a f*ck WHY LOVE was formed? Who cares WHY Psycho or Wells or Felix Red went on to do what they did? It doesn't matter WHY. You ask so many dumb questions... I feel like I'm talking to a child...

"Maybe if my car had broke down, none of this would've happened. Maybe if my Mom had been nicer to me, we'd never even have met. Who f*cking cares, man? Are you seriously gonna sit here and rehash the past AGAIN?!

"What'd I do to deserve this, Copycat? Do you think I've never seen the tape? That I don't remember? 'Cause I do.

"The difference between me and you is that I DON'T GIVE A F*CK. I've been around long enough to know that ANYTHING can happen. That's LIFE, man. That's how it is. You don't f*cking KNOW you're going to win, you retarded f*ck. Neither do I.

"And no amount of you jerking yourself off on camera is going to change that. I don't care how many times you show that clip. Go ahead and show it two more times. 'Cause all I'm hearing is that you don't have anything to say. You aren't a Champion... you're a f*cking disgrace. You're a f*cking joke.

"You have a chance with that Title -- a VOICE. But all your VOICE says is the SAME F*CKING THING EVERY VOICE BEFORE YOU HAS EVER SAID."

(He now speaks in a whiney voice... )

ANARKY: "Ooooh look at me, I'm the Champion, I'm the best, no one is better than me, I'll beat you up no matter what because I don't respect you and I can't be beaten, YAYYYYYY!!!"

(And returns to normal... )

ANARKY: "I ain't gonna come out here and promise victory, Copycat, because unlike you, I'm not f*cking stupid. I know that in that ring, anything can and will happen. Unlike you, I know very well that I'm human, and humans can f*ck up and win and lose and grow and change... but you can't accept that, can you, you dumbf*ck? You're a f*cking broken record out there... you see sun today, so it must be sun tomorrow, right? I mean... if it happened before, it MUST happen again? But you know what this shows me?

"That makes me smarter than you. Because you... you're complacent. You're weak. You have nothing to say. Except, of course, that you're great. And that you can keep bringing up the past again and again and again, because THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE. You HAVE NO FUTURE. You HAVE NO VOICE. All you have is a f*cking whiney-ass voice about what YOU think YOU deserve.

"You know how I got here, Copycat? I f*cking EARNED IT. I went through every challenger I could... and I lost some... but I won more. And when push came to shove, I f*cking pushed harder and shoved harder. And UNLIKE YOU, you little whiny b*tch, I didn't COMPLAIN about it.

"I didn't sit here and DEMAND a title shot. I didn't B*TCH about the booking like you. I just went out there and did my job like a REAL MAN, Copycat... not like a little girl. Not like you. All you do is piss and moan. You b*tched your way into a title shot and then you beat Manson. Good for you. Every dog has his day.

"But your day is ending now, Copycat. I'm sick and tired of this merry-go-round bullsh*t. And I'm tired of your incessant b*tching and whining about respect. And I'm MORE than sick of talking about the past.

"Go ahead. Show the clip again. Do it. I f*cking dare you.

"Y'know why? 'Cause you might as well relive past glory days one more day... you might as well jerk off while you dream about the time you once pinned Anarky.

'Cause in the end, it ain't gonna mean sh*t... not when the one man you hate the most... the one man you could NEVER respect...

"... shows you what a REAL MAN does. 'CAuse when I beat you, Copycat... I'm not gonna go around showing clips... I ain't gonna brag about it... because I have a VOICE, Copycat. I have a REASON.

"And unlike you, that reason isn't to act like a little child and use the World Heavyweight TItle as a means to verbally masturbate and show clips of year-old matches. No, Copycat... only a little retarded girl like you would bother with such pathetic nonsense.

"I'll show you what a real man, does, Copycat, and in the end, you won't learn a damned thing. And you wanna know why?

"'Cause you're just a dumb little whore... you were a dumb little whore when you b*tched about the booking and you were a dumb little whore when you demanded respect that you hadn't earned...

"... and when I'm through with you, you'll be a dumb, titleless little whore watching year-old videotapes of some time when he beat someone that mattered... and you'll be jerking off...

"... 'cause that's all you can do. That's all you'll ever do.

"That's all you ever were."

(FADEOUT.)

 

[GARTHIsTheLaw]

Back to school

(Cueup: "Alone" by Zebrahead)

(Fade in on Copycat sitting at a desk in what could be any school. Copycat wears jeans, his trademark beret and a Butch Walker T-shirt. The WFW World Heavyweight Title belt sits in the middle of the desk. Copycat has his hands folded in front of him as he addresses the camera)

Copycat: I really have to hand it to you, Anarky. Your powers of perception never cease to amaze me. You waded through all the complicated messages from my last promo and figured out a very important fact about my character.

(Copycat puts his hands around his face in a "picture frame" gesture)

Copycat: ...I like myself. Who would've guessed?

(Copycat re-folds his hands on the desk)

Copycat: Now Anarky, you have accused me many times in the past of over-emphasizing my victories over you. I'll address that accusation in a minute, but first, I think I'd like to provide you with a little bit of justification. Mind you, Anarky, no matter HOW many times I've spoken your name in the past year or so, I am certain you have spoken mine at least twice as many times -- but let's put that aside, too, for a moment. What if I do mention you too much, Anarky? What if I focus on you a bit more than I should? Do you really think that's because I consider my victory over you at Merrython to be a highlight of my career? Oh, sure, I suppose it's a highlight in a certain sense. But tragically, it isn't number one. Nor number two, nor number three. In fact, I think you can consider yourself lucky if it even broke the top twenty. I mean, I clearly stated a few weeks back that winning this--

(Copycat motions to the title belt in front of him)

Copycat: --was the greatest moment of my life, and I know you saw me say that, because I know you've followed my every move since I embarrassed you last year. And besides that, why would my victory over you at Merrython be significant to my career? It's not like it was something I hadn't done before.

(Copycat chuckles emptily)

Copycat: No, Anarky, the reason I bring up your name as often as I do is because you are such a FASCINATING psychological study. You never even ATTEMPT to learn from your mistakes, you merely throw blame. I mean, Jesus...HOW many times did you whine about Icekold getting involved in our last singles match? Hell, you STILL whine about it constantly, and Icekold hasn't accompanied me to the ring in over a year. I'm amazed that you haven't brought it up yet, to be honest. That's one of the things I like about you, Anarky. No matter how crushingly low your chances of success are, you continue to think you're the best in this business. Were it not for the staggering amount of profanity that pours out of your mouth, you'd be downright cute.

(Copycat leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head)

Copycat: But sadly, I must now bring us back to reality, and point out that, really, I don't bring you up that much anymore, Anarky. After all, why would I need to drop your name anymore? Sure, I've beaten you, but I've also beaten Dan Ryan, Larry Tact, Jared Wells, Steve Savoy, Sean Edmunds, Michael Manson...and the list goes on. Now, I brought you up in my last promo -- I DO have a match with you coming up, after all -- and your fascinating psychological character immediately took hold and went after me for it. Is it ANY wonder I almost find you cute, Anarky? I suppose it must be. I'll give you a minute to think about it. Why do you think I showed you that clip of me beating you at Merrython last year? TWICE, no less? Go on, mull it over. I'll give you a chance. I'd like to think I'm a pretty fair guy.

(Copycat examines the fingernails on his right hand. He slowly cracks the knuckles on his right hand, then his left. After he's done, he slowly repositions his hands back behind his head and looks back at the camera)

Copycat: Got it yet? I kind of hope so, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you still don't. Your learning system, Anarky...you're like the kid at the back of the class who wants so BADLY to answer a question right, but just can't seem to understand anything. So you pay really close attention, trying to find a question you know the answer to just out of sheer luck, when finally -- FINALLY -- a question comes along that strikes you as familiar. You close your eyes, furrow your brow, and after what feels like a microsecond, you've got the answer. You're so proud of yourself, you can barely contain your excitement. Your hand shoots up...

(Copycat enthusiastically raises his right hand to demonstrate)

Copycat: ...and every head in the room turns to look at you sideways. You see, in what you thought was just a fraction of a second, one of the brighter students answered the question without even the slightest hint of effort. Now the teacher has moved on and is in the midst of setting up the next question. Your face beet red, you make a feeble effort to pass off the raised hand as a stretch or a fixing of the hair -- fooling no one -- then slowly lower the hand back to your desk.

(Copycat places his hand back on the desk)

Copycat: Everyone ELSE knows the answer, Anarky. Why did I show that clip of me beating you? Because I knew it would p(BLEEP)s you off. I know how much you HATE being reminded of that loss. I know that match stands out in your mind FAR more than it does in mine. I knew if I showed it, it would blind you with rage, costing you whatever hope you might have had of getting a psychological edge on me. And know what, Anarky?

(Copycat tries to force back a grin)

Copycat: It worked. PERFECTLY. In your first promo, you were uncertain, because I wanted you to be. In your second, you were angry, because I wanted you to be. In your next one? Well...it wouldn't be very sporting of me to give it away now, would it?

(Copycat's trace of a grin fades away)

Copycat: But know this. For all I'm doing to manipulate you, make you uncertain, make you angry, there is only really ONE thing I want you to be: respected. By me. I made a joke about being sporting a second ago, but in truth, I WANT to be sporting. I've told you I will not lose my World Heavyweight Title to anyone I don't respect, and while you certainly qualify as someone I don't respect right now, Anarky, don't think for one second I don't wish I COULD respect you. But I can't manipulate you into being someone I respect, Anarky. That's a decision you have to make for yourself. And if you do show me that you're the sort of person I can respect, we can have a match that will rise above and beyond the shenanigans and the whining and the hatred that have characterized our other matches.

(Copycat glares into the camera)

Copycat: But if you continue to prove yourself unworthy of my respect, then I WILL manipulate you, Anarky. And in the end, I will only manipulate you into one thing -- complete and utter defeat. And THAT, Anarky...THAT is just all there is to it.

(Copycat stands up, grabs his title belt, and walks away from the desk)

Copycat: Class dismissed.

(Fade out)

 

[JLevinson]

Re: Back to school

(OORP: Sorry for the delay, Garth. Things have been real hectic at school lately and I needed time to collaborate with Barry C. and Barry T. for their characters' dialogue. Thanks for your patience and I hope I left you enough time.)

(CUEUP: "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath.)

(FADEIN to a large, luxurious apartment, decorated in all the latest art-deco trends. Anarky is sitting behind an enormous oak desk, his feet up, watching Copycat's last promo. Felix Red is sitting on a couch to his right, breaking up small white pills into powder on a glass
table. Jared Wells is passed out in what appears to be a pool of his own vomit. 'Nark finishes watching the promo and clicks the remote, turning the television off.)

ANARKY: "My God... "

RED: "Yes, my son?"

ANARKY: "F*ck you... no, seriously. Have you seen Copycat's latest?"

RED: "I tried, but I could've sworn I was listening to a Pulsar promo. For chrissake... one of these days... (grinds his teeth, and whispers in absolute hatred) pulsaaaaarrrr....I swear, I'll bathe in the blood of his children. I'll eat his black heart like a f*cking rice krispies square while he watches..."

ANARKY: "That's good. Let's see here... I know I've got the book somewhere... "

(He starts rummaging through his desk and pulls out a giant, leather-bound book. The title on it says: The Great Book of Wrestling Cliches. He blows some dust off it and starts flipping through it, obviously looking for something.)

ANARKY: "Let's see here... 'Making Yourself Sound Tough'... no... hmmm... 'Goth Monsters'...
no.... "

RED: "Didn't you write that Chapter?"

ANARKY: "Not really. I collaborated with Manson and um… Those two other guys. The really foul smelling poetry guy and the big guy who rode the motorcycle for a while a few years ago."

RED: "Ah yes. They’re actually going to give me a few of my own pages for the revised edition coming out next year. I wrote an essay about the advantages of constantly being on drugs in your promos, so as to appear cutting edge and taboo. It sure sells T-shirts. The kids love that ****."

(Red leans over and blows a line. Anarky just stares at him for a minute and finally seems to find the chapter he's looking for.)

ANARKY: "Ah, yes... How to Sound like a Real Champion. Well, let's see here, Copycat.

"Item number one. Talk about respect. A lot. So much so that someone would want to stab themselves in the face."

RED: "Check."

ANARKY: "Mm-hmm. Item number two... make a list of all of the impressive people you've beaten. Conveniently forget anyone you've ever lost to."

RED: "Check."

ANARKY: "Ah, yes. Item number three... talk about how great it is that you won the belt and how no one will ever take it from you no matter what never ever ever ever."

RED: *SNORT*

ANARKY: "Is that a check?"

RED: "No, that's the best oxycountin I could find. What the f*ck. Are you gonna bump one of these or what? Our corporate sponsors paid for it. Like I said, our days of running out of drugs are over....remember?"

ANARKY: "Maybe later."

(He puts down the book and smiles into the camera.)

ANARKY: "Where oh where is my opponent. I once knew a man named Copycat... a clever little f*ck. Used to put on cute little skits... used to know just how to pigeonhole his opponent. Knew all the right buttons to press. This guy... he was a real motherf*cker.

"But you... I don't know who YOU are. You... are some shell of Copycat. Some whining... carrying on little boy. On and on you prod about respect... about how much the Championship means to you... about what you've done or who you've beaten.

"You went from clever... from intelligent.. from damn near unstoppable... to cliche.

"Now you've reduce yourself... to taking credit for pissing ME off, Copycat? ME?!?"

RED: "Like taking credit for a setting sun...or a rainbow."

(Red chuckles and spits on the floor.)

ANARKY: "Um....Exactly. I don't need a reason to be pissed off, Copycat. I have a great big fountain of hatred and disgust for his planet and all its
inhabitants. You aren't as special as you think, Copycat... you're just the flavor of the week. I didn't need to hunt you down... I didn't need to ruin
your career. I just smiled and let you go about your business when I was through with you...

"... and here we are. Here we are in my title match. A title match I didn't ask for, unlike your whiney little ass. A title shot I simply earned by going
through everyone they fed me. By simply doing what I have always been destined to do.

"So it seems to me, my old friend, that you are the one that's lost something. I'm still me... I'm still looking forward, not backward. I'm still deciding
what that title can do for me and LOVE -- not how I can parlay it into some career-defining moment. I've had those. I've got a list of people I can beat. The difference between you and me, my friend, is that I don't need to pull it out and stroke it on camera. I just do what I do best. That's it. There's no magic to it. There's no rhyme or reason.

"I spill your blood because it makes me smile. I don't need an excuse. You give me plenty, but they're entirely unnecessary. Just as your outrageous claims
of manipulation are unnecessary. You control nothing but your own failure. You have no motivation except for a fear of embarrassment. If you were so good at
predicting people, I guess that explains why El Arco tried to take your head off, no?

"Or perhaps this is all a front for a man afraid to lose the only thing he has. Perhaps this is just your way of seeming important. Perhaps this is the only
way you can ever defeat me.

"Or perhaps I need some... outside guidance. Perhaps there's more to your mystical power than I realize. Let us find out, shall we?

"Red... you know the number to Miss Cleo?"

(Suddenly, Wells jumps up and shouts it out.)

WELLS: "1-800-555-LIES!"

(Anarky and Red just sit there and stare at him for a minute. He burps. He lies back down. Anarky reaches over and dials the
speakerphone on his desk. It rings and the familiar Jamaican accent is heard on the other line.)

RED: "If that's Miss Cleo's number, then who the f*ck have I been calling all this time?"

MISS CLEO: "Ah, what is it you want, mon?"

ANARKY: "I'm looking for guidance, Miss Cleo. Some way of finally beating the man who's made my life a hell. A man who manipulates me and outsmarts me at every turn along the road. What can I do?"

MISS CLEO: "Ah, yes, Copycat. I have many predictions for you... "

ANARKY: "Shoot."

MISS CLEO: "I predict... that... Copycat... will bring up the fact that he's beaten you before."

ANARKY: "Ummmm... "

MISS CLEO: "I predict... that... Copycat... will mention respect again. Maybe even twice."

ANARKY: "Er... "

MISS CLEO: "I predict... that... Copycat will claim that he manipulated you into calling me... that he's one step ahead of you."

ANARKY: "Isn't that kind of a bullsh*t cop-out? I mean... anyone can claim credit for something after the fact."

MISS CLEO: "Oh, I predict that Copycat will already know this... and that he's manipulated you into even asking such a silly question."

ANARKY: "Ooooh... he's good."

MISS CLEO: "Finally... I predict... that... Copycat... will insult your intelligence."

ANARKY: "No... seems... too hard to believe. Too... fantastic! Miss Cleo... "

(Wells suddenly jumps up again and screams at the speakerphone.)

WELLS: "You B(BLEEP)CH!! What happened to sexual chocolate?"

MISS CLEO: "JARED?!?"

WELLS: "Shut ya mouth before I fill it!!"

MISS CLEO: "How DARE you speak to me like that! And where are my child support payments?!? Little Jared needs more money!"

WELLS: "Little Jared? B(BLEEP)CH, are you serious? I pulled out!"

MISS CLEO: "That's not what you said last week!"

WELLS: "IB(BLEEP)CH I don't give a damn what I said last week, cause I don't remember. Ya let me in didn't ya?"

(Before it can go any further, Anarky reaches over and pushes the 'end' button. The dialtone comes up. Anarky and Red stare
at Wells for a second.)

WELLS: "F*ck this ****, I'm outta here."

(Just as suddenly as he got up, he falls unconscious again on the sofa.)

ANARKY: "What the f*ck was that all about?"

RED: "Hey... if you haven't had sex with a giant fake Jamaican woman in your life, you can not know the truely sublime synthesis... the grotesque ecstasy...Sweet Jesus, I have got to stop doing drugs."

(He does another line.)

ANARKY: "Uh, Touche. Where's Psycho?"

RED: "Oh, you know... out galavanting, beating up old people... "

ANARKY: "Oh. So... the usual."

RED: "Right."

ANARKY: "So I guess that just leaves you and me, Copycat... or rather, I should say, Shell of Copycat. For the man who once defeated me... the man
who once outsmarted me... is long gone. And that man has been replaced by a boring, trite cliche. That man has been replaced by a respect-begging,
attention-mongering whore.

"So you see, you leave me with no choice. A whore must get what a whore deserves...

"... a lifetime of failure and embarrassment. But it's not personal, Shell of Copycat.

"It's just business as usual around here. LOVE, Inc. has only just begun."

(FADEOUT.)

THE PRECEDING HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO YOU BY COLOMBIAN DRUG LORDS, LLC. FOR ALL YOUR ADDICTION NEEDS.

 

[JLevinson]

Re: Back to school

Bumped for visibility.

-Josh

 

[GARTHIsTheLaw]

Happy accident

(OORP: Heh, not to worry on the delay, Josh...I'm in the same "busy as all get out" boat you are)

(Fade in on an empty ring in an empty arena -- probably the Hammerstein Ballroom in New York, though the lighting is bad and it's hard to tell. Not a sound can be heard, save for your typical quiet electrical noises in the background. After a moment, a sound breaks the silence -- a hand clap, echoing throughout the empty arena. It is followed by another, and another, and a continuing series of slow claps. The camera turns 180 degrees to show the entrance area. It's dark, but we can clearly make out a figure slowly approaching from the shadows)

Copycat: I'm truly impressed.

(The figure, which we can pretty well assume is Copycat, steps out of the shadows to reveal that he is, in fact, Copycat. He wears jeans, his trademark beret, and a WFW Copycat "THE RESPECT THAT I DESERVE" T-shirt. The WFW World Heavyweight Title belt is draped over his shoulder. Copycat slowly walks further into view)

Copycat: I admit I was expecting something different out of you, Anarky. A certain desperation. An element I always notice in an opponent whose psyche I have effectively warped. In short, I was expecting to see proof that I had you exactly where I wanted you.

(Copycat stops walking)

Copycat: And I suppose, in essence, I did. I do have you where I want you, Anarky -- exactly where I want you. It's just not where I EXPECTED to have you.

(Copycat adopts a thoughtful look, his hand on his goatee)

Copycat: There are elements of your last promo I could pick at, of course...elements I intended to focus on after my first viewing. Hypocritical things. Accusing me of being clichè while you spouted off trite threats of violence. Accusing me of glossing over the losses on my record while you conveniently ignore your own. Berating me for "whining" my way into a title shot, ignoring the fact that I had to get my title shot from a WFW president who was my sworn enemy while you only had to get yours from a WFW president who is your buddy. It's no secret that I don't like hypocrisy, and my immediate reaction was to just rip apart what you said, like I usually do. But then I watched it again...and again...and again...and I noticed something.

(Copycat chuckles slightly)

Copycat: You did something different. After years and years of the same, tired old Anarky routine...you did something different. It took a couple of viewings. But I eventually caught it.

(Copycat starts counting on his fingers)

Copycat: The accusations of unoriginality. The throwaway jokes. The running gags. The buddy-comedy setup. Sure, this isn't exactly the first time you've used any of those things. It may not even be the first time you've used them all at once, though I don't care to go back through the records and check. But you had something you've never had before, Anarky -- the Balance.

(Copycat slowly starts walking toward the ring again, with the camera gradually turning to follow him as necessary)

Copycat: I once knew a guy who had the Balance. He'd have never explained it in-depth to his opponent, but he had it. That perfect blend of comedy and psychology. He practiced it for years and years before he got it right, but once he did, there was really no way to get past it. He could still be beaten, of course, but only through the most nefarious means -- in a true one-on-one contest, he was essentially unstoppable. And about a year and a half ago, Anarky...

(Copycat reaches the ring. He turns back toward the camera)

Copycat: ...He beat you. You seem to be pretty smart these days, so I'm sure you can figure out who I'm talking about.

(Copycat leans back against the apron)

Copycat: You might think I'm trying to make fun of you here by accusing you of ripping me off, Anarky, but don't be so quick to assume. That "everybody is copying Copycat" bit is old enough to vote. I didn't invent any of the techniques you're using. I wasn't the first person to put them all together. And I certainly wasn't the first person to achieve the Balance. In fact, the technique I use is quite different from the one I used the last time we met in the ring. I did a parody of "A Christmas Carol" then, remember? I haven't done that sort of flat-out comedy in a long time. Not since I started focusing on respect as my driving force.

(A hint of a grin creeps onto Copycat's face)

Copycat: A question, then. An ambiguity. Is it possible -- at all possible -- that you might have learned something from looking over our last one-on-one encounter? It makes sense. When we last met, I got inside your head and made you look like a fool. Now, I do things a little differently, and you've found that your default personality isn't any better equipped to handle me now than it was a year and a half ago. You can see that if you keep doing the same things, you're going to lose again. But then, an idea. The strategies I used to gain that ever-important psychological edge the last time...they've changed. What if you were to adopt those strategies? They were effective before, for me. Can they be effective for you?

(Copycat rolls into the ring. The camera zooms in on him)

Copycat: Sure they can. You'll find, Anarky, that getting into my head is exceedingly difficult, if not impossible. But by taking my old methods and putting your own spin on them, you've proven yourself capable of LEARNING -- a capability, it seems, that you haven't had for a significant length of time. And for all my desire to wreck your psyche like I've done in the past, I got something better. I DO have you right where I want you, Anarky. I have you in a position where I CAN view you as a legitimate contender for my championship, and not just another stepping stone. In short...

(Copycat removes the WFW World Heavyweight Title belt from his shoulder and kneels down. Slowly, carefully, he lays the belt flat on the canvas in front of him)

Copycat: ...I respect you.

(Copycat sits on his haunches and looks into the camera)

Copycat: And that's really all I wanted out of all this pre-match banter. I didn't expect it. But I wanted it.

(Copycat glances down at the belt, then back up at the camera)

Copycat: I told you that I will, under NO circumstances, lose this belt to someone I don't respect. What that means, Anarky, is that you now have the OPPORTUNITY to win this belt. That's in no way a guarantee or endorsement. It's merely an opportunity. You still have to have what it takes to beat me in the ring, and as I'm certain even you will admit, that is no easy task. It is truly fitting that our battle is at an event called "Great Expectations," because with this newfound respect, I -- and every fan that will fill out this arena -- have great expectations for our match. But there are a few things I'd like you to think about going into this thing.

(Copycat raises one finger)

Copycat: What you're going to do if you WIN. You may seem confident that you'll beat ME, but there's going to be a whole hell of a lot more expected out of you if you have this title belt strapped around your waist. Even more people will be gunning for you than usual. And you'd BETTER believe I'll be at the top of that list.

(Copycat raises a second finger)

Copycat: What you're going to do if you LOSE. You've got a pretty lofty perch as the number-one contender, Anarky. You've made a lot of promises. You've raised a lot of hopes. And if you fall...it's going to be a long, LONG fall.

(Copycat starts to get up as though he's about to leave, but he catches himself and looks back at the camera)

Copycat: Oh, and...just one more thing. You have my respect now, Anarky. I advise you not to take that lightly. Gaining my respect is tough, but LOSING my respect...

(Copycat snaps his fingers)

Copycat: ...THAT can happen in a heartbeat. The Cat giveth, and the Cat taketh away. Keep my respect, and we can have a match that outshines all our past matches tenfold. But LOSE it...

(Copycat snatches the title belt off the canvas. He looks at it for a second, then slings it back onto his shoulder and glares into the camera)

Copycat: ...And there is not a force on earth, heaven or hell itself that can save you.

(Copycat gets up and exits the ring)

(Fade out)