WFW Road To Glory: So Cal Rumble (EVERYONE)

[PaulNJ21]

This show will be set inside Disneyland to celebrate its 50th Anniversary. Gratitudous Disneyland references win brownie points.

This match is open to anyone in WFW with the winner getting the fourth slot in the WFW World Heavyweight Title match at the Superbowl of Wrestling. The RP/Angle deadline is Wednesday, August 16th 11:59 PM EST. Send all angles to BOTH pmiller21@gmail.com and sedmunds@goucher.edu

 

[Alex Miami]

(Fade in to an empty dressing room at Great Expectations. The room looks ransacked as there are overturned chairs and random items of clothes all over the room. Storming through the dressing room is an angry Steve Johnson. He is wearing baggy blue jeans and no shirt. He stands in front of a locker and slams it. He points to the camera and beckons it closer.)





I just left everything out on the line. In one night I managed to be within the grasp of unseating the WFW’s most undisputed champion, because of a fluke, BULLSH+T end. No one thought I could fight BAD rules, and I didn’t get destroyed by the rules, but I thrived with them. That animal Jared Wells was spared his title because the referee couldn’t count to three.



Now every fan watching this might wonder, why is Steve Johnson still talking about Wells? Should he not be focusing on the rumble? Will he be able to bounce back? Is he just a one hit wonder?



NO!



I came into the WFW and have done the two things I said I would do in this federation, and that’s earn my pay check and give the fans a reason not to get up during one of my matches. I talk about Jared Wells, because he may have pinned me, but I beat him. I beat the King of BAD in a way that none of have. Now imagine if that match had no referee? Pretend that he had no ones hand to bite? Now imagine if he and I are the last two men in the rumble, or for that matter imagine anyone there, being held by me in a submission hold? I would hold them till they went limp, and then lightly throw that limp career over the rope as I ascend to my place in this federation. Gentleman, that glory doesn’t belong in the hands of the Bastard, or Steve Savoy, or Dan Ryan, it belongs to me.



(He lets his shoulders relax and takes a breath and then he calms his tone and begins to speak with a more even tempered intensity.)



I am not entitled this opportunity, I deserve it, and I will beat anyone for that opportunity. Even if that means I have to take down my tag team partner and mentor Jean Rabesque. I would take him down because he would do the same. At the end of the day I don’t go home with anyone else but myself, and my pride and my career will be what I have to remember when my career is over.



When people wonder if I will bounce back, I say remember look at me winning a National Championship after tearing my rotator cuff. I came back then and took out everyone in my way of that belt. And unlike other people in this locker room who take short cuts or cheat, I did it with honor and integrity. I did it because I cherished wrestling much the same way a Christian cherishes his bible. I will not dishonor my sport by shooting up(taps a vein in his arm) or taking out a referee(bites his hand the way Wells bit the referee in his match).



This match will be about taking out obstacles that stand between me and the World Championship. At the end of Road to Glory people will say two things about me: one, what a World Champion contender he is, and two who is going with him to celebrate on Space Mountain.





(fade out to Steve Johnson putting on a shirt and slamming his locker. )

 

[KGordon]

The masked man slowly takes ahold of the mask and takes it off to show Hacker with a sick smile on his face. I couldn't believe my as Hacker starts to laugh as does Silencer as they drag me away. I still couldn't belive it. Hacker wasn't even injuried or if he was he wasn't as injuried as I thought. All I knew was that I was tired, as the door open to a small damp room that I was being kept in. I look up and for the first time you see my black right eye and my puffed up lip. Hacker walks in with Silencer behind him. Silencer stands there as Hacker walk up and kneels down looking me in the face giving me a cheesy grin as I try to look away but he grabs my chin forcing me to look at him.

Hacker- Did you like your surprise Natalia? *grins again as he takes my gag out*

Natalia- Why?

Hacker- No reason really, figured it would be good for me to get out and start the hunt yet again.

Natalia- I don't understand, why are you using me? I haven't seen Pitt for close to 2 yrs until Silencer was after me.

Hacker- Because you are the key. You know the story that I gave Pitt was true. I was in a car accident, paraziled from the waist down, but did you care? No! You were off doing your own thing, so I waited and went through therepy. The doctors said I would never walk again but I proved them wrong. When Silencer contacted me I thought about letting the feud die but I don't want to spend the rest of my life collecting a dam disability check, so I said ok. I helped track you down at that club, knowing full well that Pitt would come out from hiding. Now he has a challenge in front of him.

Natalia- It doesn't matter, he will still beat you.

Hacker- *sighs* Just like you Natalia, so gullible. Why don't you join me and Silencer, make Pitt's life a living hell. He did leave you all alone didn't he? He couldn't protect you even after you ran?

Natalia- *gives a seductive smile before spitting in Hacker's face* I would rather rot in Hell then join you.

Hacker wipes off the spit before backhanding me in the face and grabbing my hair making me look at him.

Hacker- Then Hell it will be.

Hacker puts the gag back in as he walks over to Silencer and grabs the crossbow he is holding. Hacker puts an arrow in it and points it at me.

Hacker- Let's see, it's been a long time since I shot one of these things.

Hacker shoots it as it hits the wall inches from my left ear.

Hacker- Opps. *Silencer hands him another arrow* There is time to change your mind Natalia?

I shake my head no as Hacker aims again.

Hacker- Ok I warned ya, I am not the best at shooting this thing.

Hacker shoots again as it lands this time to the right but it actually hits a strand of my hair as I give out a little shreek but it's cover by the gag. Hacker stands there laughing along with Silencer.

Hacker- Just think, I can do this until Silencer gets his cage match with Pitt. *hands the crossbow back to Silencer as he walks back up to me* That and some other X-rated things. I tasted you once Natalia, but women are like fine wine, they taste a lot better when they are older.

Hacker gives me a kiss on the head and then walks out of the room with Silencer close behind. I hear the door lock as I start to try to get out of the cuffs that chain me to the bar that is behind my head. I slowly lower my head rejected. I look up again with tears in my eyes as the camera fades out.

Camera opens back up again to a few days later and to Hacker standing behind Silencer. Standing with Hacker is Natalia, who doesn't look to happy at all as she leans back against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her.

Silencer- So, no Pitt. He has remained silenced. All that work for nothing. It's ok though because that leads me to bigger and badder things. The man behind me is the one leading me to my success and I want a new challenge. So anyone out there here is what I am going to do. I challenge anyone to a match. If you beat me, you get the beautiful Natalia. Now this is just a one on one match, so this won't go into affect at the So Cal Rumble. I am only entering this match to show the WFW exactly what I am made of. One by One all involved will get thrown out of the match. Be prepared cause the rest of the year will be hell for the WFW and I will reign over all.

Camera fades out as Silencer and Hacker laugh as the camera shows Natalia still looking upset and down to the ground.

 

[Starbreaker]

Make a point.

Fade in: on a view of Disneyland, zooming out, showing that the theme park is a short distance in the background. The camera continues to zoom, showing the interior of a hotel bedroom-- the camera filming from inside of it. Panning, Larry Tact is seen zipping up a pair of blue jeans, standing in front of a dresser. He glances momentarily at the camera, which records his reflection from the mirror, and smiles a small smile before commencing.

TACT: This past year has been longer than the last, no pun intended. I've suffered through injury, humility, and a test of my core beliefs. There have been good times-- paving the New Era is none too shabby an accolade-- but not everything I set out to do was done. I hit a lot of obstacles I hadn't foreseen. I lost in some ways I would rather like to have a chance to rectify.

But I haven't b***hed and whined about it. Upon my return here, I set right out to get back to doing what I do best: wrestle and set aside the criticisms cast against me. What happened in that tag match? I had my tag team partner shuffled midway through. A fireball thrown right into my face. A loss that wasn't necessarily in my control to change. Basically what I had encountered before I went on the shelf: shady tactics... wins turned to losses within moments... lost opportunities.

And yet, I keep going.

Tact pulls a green t-shirt off the bed behind the dresser and turns back around, sliding the shirt over his torso.

[b[TACT:[/b] I don't shout out to the world about how wronged I was...(snorts)...not anymore, at least. I'm done searching for retribution from the past. Like I said, I want to be done with the past. Steve Savoy was my last loose end... and I did what I had to do, there. I wouldn't even be mentioning this if it weren't for one man... Steve Johnson. An ignorant man.

Tact finishes buttoning up the shirt, then sits on the bed and pulls out a pair of black shoes, continuing as his attention is diverted from the camera.

TACT: Steve, you haven't had much time around here. You're still learning the ropes. You have beliefs that were similar to mine. And so, I have four words of heartfelt advice for you... shut your ****ing mouth. If there's one important lesson I can pass onto the newest generation, it's that nobody likes a whiner. Nobody wants to hear about how you "could have won" if this and that were different. Reality check, 'rising star:' things weren't any different than how they were. They went how they did, and you lost. Just like I lost because of the way things went. Just like everyone who was in a match and lost, lost for the way their matches unfolded.

Completing the lacing up, Tact looks up, sneering.

TACT: Go talk it up with your 'mentor,' Steve; I'm sure he'll have plenty to say about how 'wronged' he's been in the past. Maybe he'll sympathize. I won't.

Tact proceeds out of the bedroom. The camera follows into the main room, furnished with plush sofa, television inside an oak cabinet, some Disney-themed, framed art, and some plants. Tact has pours himself a drink in the kitchenette, comes around and seats himself on the burgundy sofa.

TACT: You aren't alone, of course. All those people you talk about 'cheating' and having lost integrity? They aren't so below you as you appear to think, kid. You suffer the same flaw they do. You've got a bad case of pride. Pride for your work, making you believe just cuz you put on a show, you deserve something. And don't bull**** me that you don't wholeheartedly believe you earned a win over Wells. You're blinded by your pride, and your ego only enhances that. Add on that you're taking cues from Jean Rabesque... well, that pretty much seals the deal. You're just another in a sea of heads so big... they can damn well float.

And that's the start of the good news for you.

Tact downs some of the drink.

TACT: You aren't alone with the way you think, with pride and ego. And so this doesn't just apply to you, but everyone in this promotion who cater to stroking themselves. What that means, if you still haven't got it, Steve, is that I'm not going to zero in on you during the Rumble. Just because you cast the first complaint doesn't mean there won't be more. But you haven't impressed me with anything you've done yet. You took Wells to the limit? Fine. Go stroke yourself solid if it makes you feel better about a near-miss. The fact is... it was a near-miss, as in, nearly won, missed out in the end. But go ahead and call to the top about how that match should define your toughness, because you almost won.

Does it still sound so nice anymore, tough guy?

The only people who will be talking about your display in the Rumble are the same ones who want other people talking about their performances. The ones who, in the end, only want to have themselves stroked tenderly.

Tact drains the rest of the drink, firmly setting the glass down on the table in front of him.

TACT: Meanwhile, I'll be moving on past you all. There isn't a damn reason to live in the past. You all have your needs, and your agendas, and your requirements: for respect, for glory, and acknowledgement. You all want to know the truth?

He leans forward, forearms resting on his knees, a cynical look to him.

TACT: You're all ungrateful bastards. Every last one of you who falls prey to these things. I bet you all loved seeing Copycat's ranting on respect and how nobody, NOBODY would take his title without respecting him. You know the truth? He took a chance with Savoy, letting his ego and his pride convince him that he could win that match, hold onto the title. And he did, but not because Savoy "didn't earn his respect." He won because I knocked Steve Savoy the **** out. But with Anarky, even Copycat wasn't stupid enough to believe his own propaganda-- that night. He knew he should cover himself before the match. He recognized Anarky as too much. Anarky didn't "earn respect" from Copycat. Copycat paid his own tribute to Anarky: his fear. But I bet nobody wanted to believe it, and why? Cuz then it would be admitting the truth about pride: that it controls you if you don't control it. And very few people control it.

I don't like Anarky. I don't like Manson. I don't like Wells. I don't like many people at all. But I was taught this truth, after years of unsuccessfully trying to control it, and I had time to contemplate it while I was on the shelf. While the rest of you were able to wrestle, and fight, and had the chance to move on. I don't claim I won't have moments of pride, but at least I can admit it. Unlike Steve Johnson, or any of you. And unlike the rest of you, who blew the chance to progress while I was away... I will move forward. One way or another.

I don't need excuses for my actions. Steve Johnson likes talking a lot about how if things were different-- no referee, a clean count, whatever-- he would have won. There's a term for what you're doing, Steve, talking up your storm about circumstances. It's called a cop out. Do you know that during the time I've been back, Steve, I've done more than you have since arriving here? I came back and produced an instant result, college boy. I changed Steve Savoy's direction. I took him from hot in the mix of a World Championship persuit-- almost there, in fact-- to flat out of immediate contention. Now Savoy is in the same spot as you, and me, and everyone else. What's been your biggest impact? Making Jared Wells fall on you?

Tact stands, arms crossed.

TACT: You think I'm underestimating you, don't you Steve? You probably aren't alone. But you look at yourself in the mirror and you tell yourself that... "Larry Tact, he's just underestimating my wrestling ability"... does it make you feel better? Then tell me this... when have I questioned your wrestling ability? See, this isn't a question about ability. WFW doesn't **** around and bring in talent who don't have wrestling ability. And isn't that what you've been flaunting all this time? You're grand wrestling ability? Turns out, just like your mentor, that wrestling ability isn't so much a factor as you might think. What's that? He didn't mention that? Well that's for two reasons: either he enjoys frequenting promotions where he can dominate, or, more likely, he doesn't want to accept the truth.

This isn't just a test of wrestling skill, this isn't the amateurs.

Now it's about mastering yourself. This is a battle with yourself. And no words will epitomize that. It's about realizing what you're really about, and letting your words represent that.

Tact walks to the door of the hotel room, stopping as he opens the door.

TACT: Doubt me? Then why is Anarky World Champion? The son of a b**** who, roughly, is a firm believer that words are **** and so is everything else. You all search yourselves and see if you can really find a core of beliefs you trust in, truly. You see if you really believe yourselves... or if you're all just more Copycat copycats.

Have any of you really moved forward? Or are you just going to have to FEEL my point, when I make my move.

Oh, and by the way...

This is all rhetorical.

Tact smirks darkly and closes the door.

 

[Alex Miami]

(Fade onto the traditional WFW backdrop. In front of it stands Steve Johnson wearing a black t-shirt, boot cut blue jeans, and a backwards red Buckeyes hat. Johnson stands there with an angered look in his face. He is flexing his bicep hard so that a defined muscle is visible through the black shirt. His brown eyes seem to be penetrating through the camera. He is speaking in an angered tone)





Why is it that someone old, who wrestled in cages that were made of barb wire and was in the same ring as some hall of famer, while on the twilight of their career would lecture ME on how I should be more like him. I am sorry Larry Tact, after my Lord, my savior, my father are the higher powers I respond to. At this point why would I listen to someone who has achieved as much as I have in the WFW. While you were injured, I was coming off of wining my second national champion and winning my first match here. While at the last card you and your partner were busy losing your match, I was on my way to fighting two, winning one, and beating another one unconcsious.



(points at the camera)



Larry Tact what separates me from you is that while I may be a something to be you, you are a shoulda been! You say that I am just looking for sympathy, but I say you look for pity. I was cheated, and am taking action to resolve that, you say you have been cheated, and you call that a lost opportunity. Do people really want to cheer for a man with little resolve and lots of words? I think perhaps your problem is that you see all you could have been in me.



(Lowers his hand and calms his tone)



As for your comments about Jean Rabesque, I won’t have to say much to defend him, because he can more than ably handle himself. I will however say what his actions and words have taught me:

1. You must respect wrestling and never strive for any thing less than excellence

2.You never respect anyone who doesn’t respect you.



Larry, you spend so much time focusing on your emotions and my emotions. I make no doubt in my mind that we do perhaps need to have our emotions evaluated. I listen to you talk and it leads me to believe that you are so stuck focusing on why I say what I say, that you won’t realize me breaking your arm. Larry how do you ever accomplish anything when you never get around to doing anything. Larry I know I can do that. Larry I know that makes me proud and that you are probably going to pull out some big word like hubris to make you sound smart (points to his head) but it is my pride which strives me to want to take you out. My goal isn’t to injure you, but it is to ensure that you don’t stop me from being a champion. I take pride in what I do because I have trained to beat people like you. I have an ego because I work hard and stay clean so that I can continue performing to my peak abilities.



You would make people believe that my words have no meaning, but I guarantee you that we will let our wrestling at the Rumble be the standard for measuring what our words mean.



(Fade Out)

 

[John Doe]

Tower of Terror

FADEIN…

John Doe standing inline within MGM studios at the famous Tower of Terror. John looks at the camera with a smirk on his face, he looks down at his watch then back up at the camera a little kid making faces at the lens.

DOE:

“Well, I guess my two moth exile is up. It would seem some of you forgot about me, or maybe not, I come back to WFW and what do we have, well, Larry Tact, ex NEW World Champ, who seems to crawled out the filthy slime he arose from and made his way to the greatness of WFW. Well Larry, let me be the first to tell you. You sucked in NEW and you suck here! Is that convenient enough for the likes of you? If not let me press forward. You lost your great little title to Rabesque….RABESQUE! Now I shouldn’t be talking carp because frankly I fell into the same hole, but somewhere along the line we find ourselves saying…John Doe was learning the Ropes, Larry Tact has been in the game for how long is it now Larry? Since you stepped into the damned ring? Months? And you think you can get into it with men that have been training…you must be more crazy then I am.”

“Excuse me while I press on…Hacker…the ever so great man from NWL…the late NWL that lasted less than 3 months, and I still wonder why I signed that forsaken contract. Anyways, I just find myself asking….why! Why has this league fell so low to hire a bunch of idiots and losers, men that couldn’t fight their way out of a wet paper bag! But hell you do what you want, I don’t runt eh company so I can gives a damn. Yet we hire a man that somehow ditched Data and picked up Natiale? Ah yes, of course. Nothing new you have to change your image every time you try something new. Oh sorry, except for me CAUSE I DON’T PLAY F(BEEP)ING GAMES! I stay the same I wrestle the same I WIN the same”

“That’s what separates me from the rest isn’t it? That I have the heart to fight back even when I am to the brink of unconsciousness. Unlike some people that some how get pinned itn eh first 5 minutes of the match…ah...ah…IDIOTS…..USELESS! Why are you on the payroll it boggles my mind, it really does. What have you done to improve the sport, tell me honestly, what have you accomplished? What? Winning the title but not support from the fans? Yes **mocking clap* congratulations survey says you’re a f(BEEP)ng idiot.”

“And don’t you dare think of say what I have done cause I will give you some CLEAR examples. The one that sticks out in my mind is defeating Troy Douglas. Yes, in an Inferno match, you know the ring of fire, oh wait, you never have done one! Why? Because you fear death. Me I’ll put it straight out to you, you all have no balls for the game, no love for the sport, and no dedication or faith in yourselves. You ask questions about the opponent to hide that you ask questions about yourself. Me? I have it all answered. And it all adds up to WFW World Heavyweight champion, read it and weep it boys. You ain’t gonna make it out this rumble. And a SO called rumble is what it is, hell some half twitted moron named Steve Johnson.”

“Listen Stevo, you are all on this thing about emotions listen I will give you an emotion you will feel the rest of you, it’s called defeat. And it is an emotion you will feel from me, and trust me it is going to haunt you the rest of your career. Knowing you feel to the hands of me. But hey Stevie you want to be the one to talk smack do it, you be the one. I guarantee you 100% that it will be a bad day for you. “

“Frankly, This place is about to have a major turn around. Prompted by me, delivered by me. I have wrestled long, and even to my exile form WFW, I still am finding my way to a ring with some nobodies, arrogant little pricks that find themselves believing they are the best.”

“Well, let me make this clear as crystal gentlemen, this week, next card, or sometime soon I will put those thoughts to rest.”

“Now, let me make it plain and simple. I am going to humiliate you. Embarrass you in front of your little whore hacker, destroy you an EX world champ, that’s your Larry, and the rest of the watching world, Me. Johnson. This is not going to be a walk-though for any of you. Don’t expect to walk into the ring all tough and trying to be Mr. Hero. You are entering my territory, my turf. Once you do that, there is no escape, I will beat you till God himself stops me, there is no savior for you now, only the bell that will start my triumph and end your pitiful night.”

“The point I am getting to, none of you stand a chance, this is going to be a quick, you enter the ring 3 minutes later you are going to be knocked out. You underestimate my abilities, don’t let the insanity fool you. I am as ruthless as I am brutal. And I plan on showing you no mercy.”

“Plan to be eliminated that’s all I have to say friends. Your little part in this Rumble is about to come to a short end. While I continue with victory, and I plan to. And I am not going to stop there either, the title is calling me. It is going to be mine shortly. Destiny is in the air. And while I make my rein supreme you can sit and watch and tell your kids that you wrestled me once, and lost, not only did you lose, you were destroyed.”

(John sits in the tower of terror as it is about to fall)

“So now go off to the studio make a promotion, so I can end this little yip-yakking back and forth and defeat your sorry ass. This should be quite interesting actually watching you fall to my wrath. But we shall see, maybe you will all be worthy opponents. (Snickers) Or not. See you in the ring, I doubt I will hear from you before that. It’s just gonna be a short quick drop….

(THE TOWER DROP)

FADEOUT

 

[NotorisSTD]

the rabbit hole - part one (spinning, spun)

(CUEUP: “Bowl of Oranges” by Bright Eyes…)
(Felix Red is slumped down at the bottom of one of those giant teacups, whirling around and around and around, holding a camcorder up to his face… His other arm is tightly wrapped around his bare torso, his jaw clenched, his pupils the size of quarters…)

“the boy who destroyed the world”

I’d like to apologize to the camera crew waiting for me by the Haunted Mansion. I’m being followed by several giant cartoon animals, who wish to do me harm. This was the only place I could think of that would be safe. Here I’m moving too fast for them to catch me. Standing still out in the open, drawing a small crowd of tourists wondering what’s being filmed, I’d be exposed. Helpless. Only a matter of time before the monsters rip me to shreds. Remove my intestines, peal off my skin, coat me in plastic and make me one of them.

They can see through flesh, you see. They’ve come, like minions of he whose name is never, to dispense attrition. Not “punishment,” per sei. What they view as the most appropriate and honest method of dealing with my kind. Torture followed by assimilation. “We are borg,” as they old saying goes. I used to think violence would redeem me, then I decided redemption didn’t exist. I think these others are likeminded in that way. They don’t want to save me, they want to solve me, and so I must remain in this teacup until nightfall. Regardless of whether or not they have to sleep, I don’t, and I’ve learned see in the dark and wield shadows like daggers.

When the sun dies, I’ll show these aesthetically crippled beasts who they’re f(bleep)king with…

Perhaps I’m ah…worrying too much. Perhaps they only intend to kidnap me, and play out a morbidly drawn out scenario, where the echoes of it’s previous incarnations will be deafening. Identical trauma for identical souls. Syndicated lives, McDonalds culture, over and over again, on and on and on and on…until it all goes black, to the way it’s supposed to be.

But perhaps I’m not worried enough, and my perception is skewed by these lights and sounds. I’ve been dazzled, and my judgment may be the price I’ve paid. Anarky is champion, I am president, and all is wrong with the world, misanthropy is law, The experiment has been a rousing success.

And I refuse to be held accountable. Someone’s going to have to pay the penalty for all this, but it won’t be me. IT WILL NOT…..(twitches. Eye widen.) shhh…(peeks over the edge of the cup) Nothing. Good.

(slouches back down) Nothing feels familiar. Nothing makes sense. Nothing I can handle.


Nothing and no one, and I have been no one, and so have others, but not necessarily others that were anything like me, but how…is that possible?....(slowly, deliberately lights a clove cigarette) Welp…I am no one, and the singer from X is no one, nameless, anonymous, empty. (swirls his hand around) Like air. John Doe is not one of the others, and he is not me….I am thought. I am dream. (cackles) nnnnightmare…Immaterial, incorporeal, beautiful and horrible…I am no one, but I am everyone. John Doe is merely no one. While I move between raindrops, John Doe just ah…He…(gasps) I don’t know what he does, really. Maybe something. I don’t know.

And I can also wwwwwaaaaasssssx melodramatic. Boo Hoo. My goodness. It’s gotten as bad as Caligula’s time, really. Surely is a very fine thing that I’m an only child. Statutory rape is noble. So they learn early. It helps them, really. But incest? Not to be a prude, but even I have my reservations. When the orgy starts to get boring, that’s when we feed Christians to lions. So you got a BAD title shot in your second match, huh guy? Wow, you must be a *very* good wrestler. And we whose charge it is to decide what you do, well, we would never send a neophyte in to get massacred just to make one of our own look good….(giggles…then lets loose with a bigger, meaner laugh)

Oh, how you’ve been used Steven. And if you didn’t like it, you would do yourself a service to act like you did. Quit yer b!tchin’ ‘n moanin’, eh? You’ve stumbled into the haunt of roulette dares, where the likes of you and soiled, crumbled, and tossed away like tissue paper. Consider yourself lucky and happy. We’ll let you stay healthy enough as long as you don’t step out of line. We can’t hear your thoughts, yet, and if you say something enough times, it will come true. When you wish upon a mega-nova. Right? Meanwhile, these others will eviscerate you on sight. They won’t even make a go of it. They won’t even smile. At least we take great joy in the suffering of others, juxtaposed by suffering for the sake of itself, which is shameful…

But I have no shame, and my joy is suffering, and all combats itself. And what is this really about? What a silly question. Tee hee, mother f(bleep)ker, Tee hee. I wonder what is this not about? If I am nothing and no one, then how do I hit so hard? Why do they fall, and why do I get richer?

I am emperor here, and my word is law, but I am hunted and despised by my very subjects who LOVE me. I can no longer even roam where I please by daylight.

How can I speak when there are no words, and how can I fight when there is no pain? Play god when nothing is divine? I know these answers. Nothing makes sense. No sense, makes sense…And so who am I?

Woe to those who find enlightenment…

Despair to the one who answers…

Whoever could I be….?

 

[Steve]

(FADEIN: Joey in a Splash Mountain Car as it ascends for the big drop.)

MELTON: They need an amusement park to sell your low work rate asses. Felix, there’s your answer. Take the digital camera with you inside the bowels of a teacup. Film all the sheep brushing shoulders with the Video Game Priest, never fully knowing you’re the reset button from killing them all in a glorious High Def killing spree.

But what’s real, when women in today’s world WANT to be cummed on in the face?

Does a speck of dust on Mars give a **** that you don’t feel pain, but you don’t, but you don’t, but you do, but you rowed your boat ashore during a set break on Alf’s Talkie Show.

Go read your mother’s college, angst-ridden poetry in coffee shops and to comic shop sluts who will say ****s good just to get fisted by a desperate mime who destroyed the world.

Whether you exist or not, matters not.

Dr. Malcolm says “life always finds a way.”

And if that’s not enough, Red…I have this.

Jesus Doesn’t Want You For A Sunbeam.

The rest of you.

Well, He doesn’t want you for a Sunbeam either.

Two matches one night.

Getting out of jail never looked better.

(CUTTO: The Car dropping, Joey ripping a horrorific scream.)

(FTB)

 

[NotorisSTD]

The Rabbit Hole - a boastful interlude

(CUEUP: “Not if you were the last junkie on earth” by the Dandy Warhols)
(CUTTO: Felix Red has wandered over to adults island. Blood red eyes half open, in a “Free the west Memphis three” t-shirt and dickies shorts, he’s wobbling around the comic book section of the virgin megastore, trade paperback copy of Sam Kieth’s “Zero Girl” in hand…)

“the boy who destroyed the world”
“the video game priest”

Joseph…If it doesn’t matter if I exist or not, if I don’t matter, then how come you say that like you’re right?

I can only gamble conjectures…But when a territory, where once you were god, is contorted according to my whims, and when in a territory where I AM god you’re blundering aimlessly in the shuffle…When I’m generally on six kinds of drugs you haven’t even heard of, and I lay with women that make Lindsay Troy look…well, she looks bad regardless of who she’s compared to, and she certainly isn’t getting any prettier…

Perhaps she has a beautiful soul. Perhaps you’re not so superficial. That’s nice for you. Troy is an illusion, and she is not an illusion. I am this illusion, and I am not this illusion. Your illusion, Joey Melton, is bitter, aging, and starting to emit electromagnetic waves of jealousy. Control your synapses a little better, maybe? This is not a becoming affect…

Keep yourself close by the light fixtures. This is my labyrinth, Joseph. The shadows here have jagged, rusty edges…

 

[TSiegel]

Re: The Rabbit Hole - a boastful interlude

"Oh, now let's not be so coy!!"

(Fadein, Cameron Cruise in front of a WFW backdrop.)

CC: I mean, if this is all we've got to show thus far for those willing to comment their two cents on why they should be the one the coach put in the game...Ryan and Beast waiting for the last minute as always...

Then pardon me while I go get a snow cone.

You got two guys who argue and belittle the other over a man who's pinned opponents and held a title for over a year, then there's a guy who's named himself after a handgun befriending someone who WANTS to be involved in the CSWA, but won't HACK it to begin with....and then there's Joey arguing with a guy that can only be looked at as someone Oprah and Dr. Phil would love to talk to in hopes of finally bagging "The big one"....but instead just scratch their heads and ask for audience participation.

Because neither one would know what to do with him.

Dr. Malcolm says "life always finds a way" Joey??

Hell, Dr. IAN Malcolm looked at a big pile of Triceratops dung and couldn't say anything but the obvious: It was one hell of a pile of Crap.

Fact of the matter is Joey...I look at you, and I see the obvious.

Nothing but one...big...pile...of Crap.

(fadeout.)

 

[Starbreaker]

Bred for slaughter...

Fade in: Larry Tact sits in the 'House of Blues' restaurant, located in the Downtown Disney district. He sips on a soda and looks apathetically towards the camera.

TACT: What a waste you are, Steve Johnson. I didn't expect you to listen to what I said, but to not even take the time to think out what you're trying to sell me on? Wrestling standard, Steve? I already told your deaf ass that this is World's Finest Wrestling. Did you learn to read in college, or just how to wrestle? Cuz that's what this place is, and if you think your wrestling will do your talking adequately for your lame, uneducated carcass... you're going to be outspoken by volumes when it comes time to put up or shut up. All you say is just a waste of time for everyone who hears that crap. You've done a great job since then, though... by not speaking a damn word. Keep that up, Steve.

Everyone likes to get caught up in the haze of other people's words, judging by what's been said so far. Cameron Cruise plays a great hypocrite, speaking about how he finds everyone else paired off with another person, having a pointless clash of words... only to turn around and address his lover in tag team wrestling... at the least. CSWA, what the **** does that have anything to do with this match, Cruise? If you have half a mind, why would you be bringing up that? You want to speak of meaningless words? Those are the most meaningless kind of all...

And forget about the rest of you. I don't give a damn anyway, so why should I bother to comment? This whole match is becoming more and more a farce. I thought there would be a little less swaggering and boasting this year, what with Manson and Copycat both out. Apparently I underestimated the sheer arrogance of the rest of you.

Tact drains the rest of the soda, sniffing indignantly after a moment's pause.

TACT: I don't want your pity. I don't want to hear the ego trips of self-proclaimed gods who, for all their supposed power, don't do one damn thing to make a difference in this promotion. I don't want to hear about religious affiliations that don't mean anything to me. You know what I would like?

For all of you to think... just for a minute, I know it might hurt... think about what you're saying. And if you do, you might realize something very important.

You're all grossly mistaken if you think you're going to walk through this thing and win. No... you're all just a bunch of stupid hogs, eating up all your words as they come to you, savoring the 'genius' ideas you think you have. Really... you're just being fattened up and bred for slaughter. And you know what? I'll be the one to bring the proverbial axe down.

Am I being arrogant? Have I been talking up all my achievements and accolades, my last World Title reign or some 'legend' that I've beaten, and saying why all of that should give me a mandate to this Rumble? NO. I'm just speaking something none of you can touch... reality.

But oh no, I'd better not go into that. After all, you've already thought hard enough for one day, right?

Sure you have.

Fade out.

 

[TSiegel]

Re: Bred for slaughter...

"Those words only mean nothing to you Tact, because quite frankly the only way they would, would be for you to be paying attention."

(Fadein Cameron Cruise on a bench in a "Midway Carnival", downstairs from the hotel next to the infamous park. Kids walk back and forth with their parents to the bathrooms from the refreshment stands, as Cruise shakes his head.)

CRUISE: See Tact, you can call me a hypocrite all you want but it's of my own privilage and self-deserving RIGHT, that I can make such an opinion. I mean hey, in the last six months I've contended both in a tag team with Melton and by myself and succeeded more than I've ever had in the past, and as I said....I think it's of my own decision that I can make such an assumption about you.

I've performed in front of Kings, in Charity Ballrooms, and in the Playboy Mansion, not to mention become the current Empire Pro Intercontinental Champion. However you....

You've sat on the couch for the same apparent amount of time and WATCHED me on TV and READ ABOUT IT after it happened.

Either that or you sulked the entire time and chose not to do anything about you World Title....Rabesque, Starr or anything else being the reason why.

Joey's only got my attention at the moment, because not just in Empire Pro...but over here in WFW, I get to prove to him on not one....but TWO occasions in one night, that I can get things done and actually KEEP the credit when it's accomplished.

Think about it though Tact, after it's over....I'm sure Mickey will have no problem showing you past episodes of "The Mickey Mouse Club" with Britney Spears, or Christina Aguilera involved in them, in fact....I may even do you one better: I'll mail you over half of Joey's collection.

After all, it's all he's into when he's out of Bon-bon's and Troy's put him on her "Sh*tlist".

(Fadeout.)

 

[TH]

Fade in to the boys bathroom at Disneyland. Roderick McRatrick is standing naked next to a urinal (junk pixellated, of course).

RMR: I only have one thing to say...

Steve Johnson likes to play with other guys' johnsons.

Thank you.

A young boy walks in and shrieks at the naked McRatrick as the scene fades to chartreuse.

 

[Steve]

(FADEIN :Joey Melton riding a carousel as a MILF riding next to him stares longingly at Melton, oblivious to her kids falling off the horse, screaming for help.)

MELTON: It would seem Red my predicament is not having the means to disprove you’re moonlighting as a God. Blessed ye be then to play favorites. To give me an overabundance of riches, and the rest of the field far, far less; including yourself. Clearly you’re capable of great sacrifice. That comes with the donning of the mask, I guess.

I’m the Gate Keeper unless in your hell, the winners are misogynists and muscle heads that don’t sell. You lift your right arm and change the course of modern history. Who’s to stop you from caving John Doe’s right knee in once we walk past the Pirates of the Caribbean then proclaiming yourself as the Master Of Fates? The laws of Physics don’t apply, but they do. Nothing matters, but everything carries weight. We want our heroes to be heathens, lynched by a mob in plain view, but we're a society of second chances and feel good rhetoric.

And just how is the cream injected into a twinkie without leaving a jagged scar?

But what am I saying Red? If you’re a God you know I’m lying. You know I don’t give a rat’s ass about the morning you sheered a layer of skin off your neck shaving, and discovered you had ****-all self-destructive power. You’re more Frank Gorshin than World Champion. Just a mutt who migrated from a broken home, born a century too late.

You’re gutter cum Felix. Your circular poetry might have inspired a literary great in Paris around the turn of the 20th century, but here and now you’re nothing. Whether you believe in subtext or not.

Even though Jesus doesn’t want you for a Sunbeam, you mustn’t run from that fact.

And now Cameron Cruise gets in line.

Cruise, the glory and gluttony of Disneyland is surely lost on you, as you've just spent the last 18 months on the greatest ride of your life. We all love playing God, about as much as we did 'Rich White Male/Beaten Hispanic Helper' as kids. It's fun for me to claim I made Cruise into a Star. Took him back into the Church of Melton, and dry cleaned his sins away, molding him into my own image.

I guess it's fun, and you know, mostly true.

As Dizzy Dean once said, "If you can do it, it ain't braggin'."

I was signed to a 10-match, or five year deal to make you wet dogs heroes and marketable villians. I'm here to ensure three years from now, you matter.

Having just celebrated my 42 on the 9th, and being force fed to a ring of younger talent the smart money says Joey Melton's against the wall. At the SoCal Rumble, it's Joey Melton vs. the field.

Which is the better bet?

The man who's made more money than the field, totaled, in the last year.

(FTB)

 

[TSiegel]

"'Drycleaned my sins away??'"
(Fadein, Cameron Cruise, dressed in blue jeans and white WFW T-Shirt, at a lonely table with a glass of ice tea at a Tea Party with Mercedes. Mercedes, dressed in a short skirt and WFW shirt of her own, smiles as Minnie, Mickey, and Cinderella and the rest of the girls all gossip while Mickey sits in the corner shaking his head and his fist at the ceiling.)

CRUISE: Joey, if the 18 months you hung with me...that's right...YOU...with ME...you think was "DRYCLEANING MY SINS"...then perhaps I should make a note to Mercedes to sue you for "Malpractice".

Over half that timeframe was a NIGHTMARE!!!

A pick up of the bill here, a middle-of-the-night-call to be a wingman in a club setting there....sleeping until 3 in the afternoon, but not before spending half the night on long-distance calls with Troy about how it is French Women don't shave there pits and then arguing over god knows what seconds later and sticking me with the bill.

There is a such thing as a "Noise Policy" in hotels after 10 pm, ass. Know how I know this??

Because the manager handed it to me in writing after he saw you putting on drunken renditions of "Hot Legs" to girls who's LEGS are larger than my ARMS.

But you call that the "Church of Melton" and "molding me into your image"??

(Cruise rolls his eyes)

Excuse me while I kiss the sky.

'Course it hasn't exactly been all bad.

All the training I've gotten done while you've been crying and throwing things like Bon-Bon's and the remote control at the TVs while "Passions" was on has paid off abit, being the EPW IC Champion an' all. Hell, I shocked the world in doing something not a soul has given me credit in my abilities to do.

And at the "Road to Glory" I'm going to do it again.

Right in front of your face.

(Cameron looks over at Minnie.)

Hey, ya whore....quit making Mickey pissed off and when you're done...pass the sugar.

(Fadeout.)

 

[Alex Miami]

(Fade in to a small crowd of people standing in front of the Alien Invasion ride. There amongst the crowd stands Steve Johnson, wearing black polo shirt with the WFW insignia in red on the right side, khaki cargo shorts, and black reef flip flops. His blonde hair is spiked up and his eyes are covered by a pair of Maui Jim titanium glasses. He is signing autographs for some teenagers and their parents. )



Its great to be able to be here today, to know that I have people that want my autograph, and that I don’t have to worry about how much it costs to come to the park.



(Walks up to a group of the fans and shakes their hands)



Thanks guys, I need to thank you all. It is because of you that I can be here today and have the opportunity to be a wrestler for a living. Thank you for helping me earn the opportunity to be the best wrestler in the WFW for years to come. Take care and have a good day.



(Waves and walks away from the fans to a nearby bench and sits down.)



I’m more tired today from having shook hands and signed autographs all over the park. Its not only people from the Midwest but people from all over the country, coming to Disneyland looking to enjoy a dream that for many may culminate into a major event in their families life. I share a lot in common with these families; my family never had the opportunity to get me to Disneyworld or Disneyland. Like these people around here I am in Disneyland to get one step closer to conquering my dream. I guess I bore my opponents, with my nostalgia or my desire to express my gratitude for those who make a little sacrifice to see me wrestle. So I have decided maybe to liven things up a little bit. Maybe make things a little more interesting. I think its time I give in and treat the boys like boys and respect the men for what they are.





After seeing what this federation has to offer in terms of quality wrestling, I wonder why it is lacking in quality human beings. I see something worse than moral decay; I see the very fabric of all that is right about this sport tearing apart with each promo that gets cut. When I was a kid I used to see that Charles Barkley commercial of him saying he’s not a role model, I thought he was wrong then, and I look at most of you wrestlers in this match and I see that you took his credo to heart. Gentleman, I am a role model, and I won’t let you sully the reputation of wrestlers or human beings any longer. The list of degenerates is long and distinguished.



Degenerate one is Felix Red. I look at Felix Red and I see an abomination of a man. Who celebrates all that is wrong in the world and revels in misery. How this federation allowed him to be president and that some wrestlers voted for him is beyond me. This man aims only to corrupt our minds with his words, corrupt our souls with his actions, and destroy our lives with his decrees. If he increases the gates, it will be because he turned this paradise into Sodom and Gomorrah. I am not claiming to be the God that smites his empire, but I wont mind being his tool in torching his establishment.



Degenerate two is Joey Melton, while he tells us his stories of his sexual exploits, he revels in exploiting women and celebrating profanity in a way that destroys all meaning his words could ever have. How he could talk about Jesus and then express himself in the words he used is unholy, and where I come from we respect the Lord a little to much to let people get by being blasphemers. In Columbus we have beaten men for less.



Degenerate three is Larry Tact, while he talks about he is going to beat us all, he forgets that not only a few months ago he could barely carry himself into the ring. While we were fighting he was filing up spots on cards as a jobber. I can not tolerate people who waste all they could have been, and they try being something they are not. Tact you are a midget of what you once were.



Degenerate four is RMR, he talked a lot like this before our match, and he ended up on his back.



I see these four men and wonder what Wink was thinking when he gave out some of these contracts? This one case, where I am sure anyone would here would agree that outsourcing would be a good thing.



There are two gentleman however whom I have to talk about with a certain bit of respect.



Cameron Cruise, although I am not sure we could ever get a long, you have always been an outstanding sportsman. You took my mentor to the limit twice. I will say this; just because you have fought Jean doesn’t mean you know me, and just because I respect you doesn’t mean I won’t beat you.



Now John Doe, you have been out of the ring for some time, but I know what you are capable of. Jonathan Marx always talks about what you are capable of, and once even compared me to you. Your matches have left a legacy, and I hope I am not the one who eliminates you, because I hate to see good people go down. Don’t mistake my respect for compassion, because I assure you if it is you or me, it will be you.



My ascent begins here in Disneyland gentleman, and when I win the match I won’t have to go to far after I say I’m going to Disneyland.



(Fade out)

 

[Starbreaker]

The Road to Glory...

Fade in: on the 'Downtown Disney' district. Many people mill around the area, still looking for the right gifts, the children still gaping at the presence of a couple favorite Disney characters doing special appearances, and everyone generally going about their business. Larry Tact is spotted sitting at a round table outside an out-of-the-way cafe.... or as out-of-the-way as it gets around these parts. He has on stonewashed blue jeans, a button down white shirt, and a pair of blue-lensed, silver framed sunglasses. Tact looks up from his paper, addressing the camera positioned across from him.

TACT: With the Road to Glory rapidly approaching, I have found no need to appear recently on camera. What need is there, really? I mean, everyone else who's spoken on this match has done all I said they would. Prides and egos have stormed the scene, people can't help looking to the past for strength in the future-- never realizing they're only deluding themselves. And everyone's okay with that. People acknowledge-- through words or neglect-- that they all fall into those two pitfalls, and so why should I bother to speak?

But of course, there's always another reason. In this case... because there's even more to it than pride and ego.

Yes, it's true. Nobody has bothered to listen to what I say-- heard, yes, but not listened-- and that's fine and well. I don't need an audience in order to speak.

It's a fact that this year's Rumble has been less active in the 'pregame,' so to speak, than last year. I chalk it up to people being selective; too many bloated heads not wanting to give a try at something they may not actually come out victorious in. Steve Johnson wants to criticize me because I'm a 'degerate'...(chuckles)... but at least I give a damn enough about this place to make myself known. I don't just hide under a rock or in a corner because I fear being criticized. Hell, I don't think I've ever not greeted criticism with a certain expectancy. That's just part of the process.

And so is growing up, Steve. It isn't that I'm a degenerate... I'm just blunt. I'm honest, and you can't handle it. I felt, once, that wrestling had a certain overabundance of corruption. I'm not saying I lack that feeling now. But I learned from others mistakes. Just like you should. Look back at the films and archives, Steve. Iron Lion was the latest, I believe, in carrying out a crusade against corruption and decay. It's not the pressing issue it used to be, and for good reason. The lines have been blurred, Steve. There isn't a definitive good or evil anymore. Don't you know that corruption is only acknowledged when it hits home? Take a look in the mirror and tell yourself you cared, that you never expected to find this in WFW. The fact is you only noticed it when the problem hit you.

Tact holds up the paper.

TACT: Corruption is all around us, Steve. It isn't wrestling that's the problem, it's your so-called quality human beings. There's not enough of them who really give a damn about the corruption where it really hurts. So if you want to talk about corruption, take it to the political forum. Run for WFW President next term, and MAKE a difference. Nobody else has so far. Either nobody cares enough to, or people who care would rather do what they came here to do... wrestle.

Tact slaps down the paper on the table.

See, this isn't a place for you to condemn those you feel are morally wrong, Steve. This is a place where you do your work in the ring. Isn't that what you were all hyped about in the first place, the quality wrestling? You've lost your way, Steve. You've been influenced already by the great moral dilemma, and veered from what SHOULD be your focus. Think about that, Steve, before you start playing judge of WFW. You don't have authority, so stop trying to act like you do. Otherwise, you'll have more people gunning for you in this Rumble than you'll care to know. And you've already dug a large enough hole for yourself as it is.

Tact picks up a cup of ice and takes an ice cube into his mouth, swirling it around for a few moments.

TACT: I admit, I didn't think politics would be something a kid under tutelage from Rabesque would be doing. No, Steve, you are more like ME than you know. Just look at who's been letting their views be known, and who hasn't, between the two of us. Rabesque has only deafened us with silence, although some may feel thankful for that. It does come back to pride, why people refuse to even utter a word. Whether they feel they can't hang in that four way title match awaiting the winner of this, or because they don't feel obligated to WFW... either demonstrating a shameful lack of committment, and grasp of themselves.

I, on the other hand, have a strong hold on who I am and what I'm about. Remember my posing that question? Nobody finds the answer in a week or two, of course, but for all the talk of my sitting around and doing nothing during my time away... for all the talk that I couldn't wrestle for months... nobody could question the validity of my questions. Nobody can contest that I'm still here, now, and that I have the hunger.

We're all waiting for a match that some don't see as a proving ground for anything. It's a Rumble, you throw your opponents out of the ring. No pinfalls, no submissions. And people say, 'what's the point? What do you really prove winning a match like that?' If you win, you survive... and that is something few can do. Survive. Whether it's this Rumble, or surviving the criticisms of others... making it to the Superbowl of Wrestling in that title match hinges on survival. So who would be best equipped to survive? Someone who can battle their way back from injury, battle their own self-criticisms, the criticisms of others, and win that mental and physical war of rehabilitation.... or people who go through the motions in matches, find comfort in near wins, and would rather stroke themselves than think about anything complicated? Who is better prepared?

I may have been out of your immediate sight, gentleman... I may not have been a problem for you the past eight months. But I guarantee you I've been battling. I've been learning. I've been improving myself. And at the SoCal Rumble...

Tact stands from the table.

TACT: I won't leave a doubt about how present and dangerous I am on this Road to Glory.

Tact turns and walks off. Fade out.

 

[John Doe]

Pure Nonsense

FADEIN….

FADEIN....

El Numero Uno, John Doe at the famous MGM studio’s Walt Disney World Flordia the place is set up as a Price is Right stage. John is wearing Bob’s suite and audience is present.

DOE:

“Yes, I know, I know. It has been way to quite with out me runign my mouth off, And yes I missed you all so dearly I just had to come back out here and talk all the crap I can in a 5 minute airtime. Aren’t I the best damn employee ever. In fact I think that calls for a raise.”


“The game is coming to a short drop men, and I think I just have a few things to add before we hit the big show. Let us start!!!”

“LARRRRRRYYY COMMMME ONNN DOOWWNNN!”

CUEUP: The Price is Right Theme.

A man runs down the aisle with a name tag that says Larry. Seemingly he looks like Larry Tact.

“Mr. Larry we have a game here called plinko. I hope you know it”

Larry nods

“Now all you have to do is score good on this game. As you can see there is. WIN, WIN, WIN, WIN!, And lastly….WIN! All you have to do is win which is easy enough. Go ahead drop the plinko ball.

Larry drops the ball and it so happens to fall into WIN!

“GOOD JOB! Tell him what he has won!”

ROD: A BLACK EYE. This 2005 edition to the John Doe Ass-kicking collection will be memorable to show to family members and friends… net worth 1,000 dollars!”

DOE SLUGS LARRY!

“Woot! Thanks for playing Larry we will be right back after this commercial break.”

-BREAK-

SFX: GONG CRASHES!

V/o: MORTAL KOMBAT!!!!!

We cut to a video game promo where the characters are Smoke the name John Doe above the health bar, and the opponent Rayden but the name by the health meter says Cameron Cruise.
The character does the thing where that big light of fire thing comes out his hand and then vroom!!! The health meter on Rayden drops all the way down. And all of sudden….

V/o: Finish him.

And the next moment all we hear is….

V/o: FATALITY.

We cut back to a WFW Studio. It seems though we left MGM studios.

DOE:

“Man, I know what you are thinking in your minds, this is the most screwed up promotion you have ever seen. But it isn’t. I mean just look at Steven Johnson’s. He tells lies in his. I mean he said he was signiing autographs. Him autographs, you can’t sell that sh*t on E-bay now can you. But you can sell this…”

Doe holds up an authentic John Doe “I Forgot My Number. Can I Have Yours? T-Shirt

“Now, let me ask you something, can you pick up chicks with a Steven Johnson T-shirt. HELL NO! You can’t even sell that. But this you can. And you support the greatest wrestler of all time…me. See after I win the rumble this will be worth big bucks, I am like talking hundreds get them while they are hot people.”

“Speaking of things that are hot. Let us talk about things that just are not as good as me. We are going to our on street reporter Jonathan Marx who is live at the 50th Anniversary of Walt Disney World!”

“Jon can you hear us.”

The camera cuts to Jonathan Marx as fireworks are going off above him

MARX:

“Yes I can John, as you can see it is a big party here in Walt Disney world we have seen stars such as Copycat, Jared Wells and other WFW Celebrities…like me, walking around the park and joining in the festivities. But I am out here today not to roll in my own greatness. But to see what people think about the upcoming So Called Rumble, so I went around and asked what people thought of Joey Melton.”

The screen cuts from night time at the Walt Disney park to morning where Jon is walking to a resturant.

V/o: I decided to start off at a local Disney restaurant and just pop in on a family enjoying there great breakfast feast.

MARX: “Good morning I am Jonathan Marx with WFW can I ask you some questions about Joey Melton?

The faces of the family are all blurry.

HUSBAND: Can’t you see we are eating!

Camera shows Marx walking away

V/o: being the gentleman I am I decided to leave them be. But I still was on the hunt! So I decided to ask Americas beloved Mickey Mouse.

Cut to Marx standing next to Mickey Mouse.

Marx: Mickey what do you think of Joey Melton?

Mickey gives a thumbs down as Marx gives him a hug

V/o: Strong words from a strong icon. I decided to investigate the last ride Joey was on…Splash Mountain and see if I could find answers there. And I found exactly what I was looking for one of the ride attendants spilled it all out…

ATTENDANT: Well all I can say about him is that he had this small sore right here on his lip.

We cut to Marx back to a night time of festivals.

MARX: Exactly what I was pointing out, a sore a classis sign of Herpes Simplex One. We see it as a cold sore, or is it that when he slept with Lindsay Troy he caught something. Only time will tell. Back to you John.

We cut to Doe back in the WFW studio.

DOE: Thanks Jon. Now before we go we will let you in on a little secrete on the movie I am staring in. Show the movie poster…this is John Doe. Have a nice night.

FADEOUT

 

[RStrawsma]

SCENE BEGINS

(Fade in. No bull****. No Disneyland. No MGM. No rides or attractions. No foam-suited rodents. No flashy sets or gags. From the get-go, the man, Rocko Daymon, stands before a WFW backdrop. He's wearing dark blue denim jeans and a Clutch t-shirt. Dark brown hair is neatly spiked up, chin fashionably shaved into a short goatee on his chin.)

(Just a man and his words. All that ever mattered. All that ever will.)

Rocko Daymon
Been an interesting ride in the past week. Can't say I was too thrilled to get the phone call telling me I was booked in a rumble at Disneyland, but hey, if it puts food on the table...

Lately, I've been glued to my TV screen, watching every man who thinks he has the balls and the brawn to win this match say their respective pieces. I've seen a lot of guys with their head in the game, and that tells me that this match won't be any walk in the park... and on the other hand, I see a lot of guys with their heads totally somewhere else.

Probably three feet straight up their asses.

But hey, if that's how a man primes himself before stepping into the ring, then let him do what he's gotta. I, on the other hand, choose not to make such an ass of myself.

I see WFW is really hyping up this Disneyland thing. Every man has found an opportunity to use the element of a theme park in their promotions. Ironically, seeing everybody bicker back and forth in the past week has been very similar to an amusement park ride, with a new surprise around every corner. Personally, I think of Disneyland as a place to take my five year old son... not to cut a promo. I've been busy anyway.

I just got off the plane earlier today from spending a few days in Baghdad, meeting a few of the fine men and women we've got stationed out there. And you know, I can't really say I agree with the "conflict" in Iraq... nor can I agree that the best foreign policy is to invade a country and create a ruckus while calling it "liberation". All I know is that each and every one of those soldiers I shook hands with is out there because they all feel they're doing the right thing, not just for their country, but for their world.

Whether their right or wrong with their views, I could care less... the point is, they're all fighting for something they believe in. I respect that. I may not agree with it, but I respect it.

Respect is a hard thing to come by these days... especially in professional wrestling. We work and operate in a very cut-throat industry. Night after night, you step into that ring and bust your ass, and nobody back there in the locker room will ever care. You could win a hundred matches in a row, and there will still be someone out there saying you're a hack. One night, you **** up and make a stupid mistake that costs you the win... and you'll never hear the end of it from your future opponents.

Veterans like Cruise, Melton, Tact, and myself all have an understanding of this. And in spite of it all, we keep fighting. But occassionally, there's the starry-eyed youth who stumbles into the industry, expecting immediate fame and fortune, hoping his talents will carry him to the top and everything will go smooth as clockwork.

Seven years ago, I was that guy... but it didn't take me long to grow up. Today, filling those shoes, are guys like Steve Johnson and John Doe. A couple of guys whose hearts lie in the ring... but their minds still have a few years down the hard road to fully ripen.

In one hand, there's Doe, who I'm all too familiar with. Lo and behold, the kid hasn't changed a bit--still the trash-talkin' victim of ADD as I remember him. And then there's Steve Johnson, a complete stranger until we meet face to face at the rumble. When you don't know you're opponent, it's important to take in as much as you can before it comes time to fight. Sometimes, it's all about first impressions.

I watch Steve Johnson throw a temper tantrum in his locker room. That's my first impression.

Steve, you don't have many years under your belt, so it's perfectly understandable why you act the way you do. Everybody's been there at some point in their career. But even so, don't think you can gain my sympathy with your passionate outbursts. Like I said, this is a cut-throat industry; nobody will be there to pat you on the back and tell you it's all going to be okay when you get your ass handed to you.

I'll let you in on a little professional wrestling secret. It's something that I had to learn on my own through years of trial and error, and countless heartbreaks, but just because I'm a nice guy, I'm going to give you the chance of a lifetime by telling you like it is, and with that you'll be better prepared for the physical and emotional setbacks that await you in the future.

Getting screwed over... not only is it common, it's inevitable. It happens all the time. It doesn't matter if you're Jean Rabesque or Elmo the Eccentric Eskimo--having everything you worked for destroyed in a matter of seconds is a part of the typical professional wrestling career.

It's happened to me more times than I can count. It's not an easy thing to get over, knowing you were so close to winning had so-and-so not interfered.

Here's the thing, though, Steve... and I want you to pay close attention to this. What makes the man is not his ability to prevent such circumstances from occuring--it's about how he deals with them.

Screwjobs are inevitable, no matter who you are or how good you are in the ring. So if you're not prepared to bite the bullet and move on, then you're not ready to wrestler. You sure as hell aren't ready for any championship gold, and you're verily not ready to win the SoCal Rumble.

We all wish we could turn back the hands on the clock and redeem our past ****-ups and embarrassments... but we can't. Whining about it isn't going to do any good. It's not going to make those responsible feel any guilt. It's not going to make the rest of the federation give you pity.

And it's not going to make you out to be some tough guy who is a force to be reckoned with, in this match, and in this fed.

That's my first impression of you, Steve. Instead of doing what a true professional wrestling should have, you *****ed and moaned about something that has happened to everyone at one point or another in their careers, as though the entire world would stop and center itself around you.

Be a man. Be a professional wrestler.

(Arms crossed over his chest and eyes like swords pointed straight into the camera, the right side of Daymon's lips curl into a disgusted sneer.)

Rocko Daymon
You come on here, Steve, and you call talented wrestlers like Larry Tact and Joey Melton "degenerates", while at the same time giving praise to a guy like John Doe.

I think Larry did a good job of informing you that it's more about how a man holds himself in the ring than what he does on the outside. That's what respect is about. It's not about who your opponent IS as much as it's about how they fight.

I can't say I approve of Joey Melton's lifestyle myself, but the man is a mother****er in the ring, which is why I tip my hat to him every chance I get. It's all about respect for a man's abilities, Steve... and if you're stuck sitting on your "holier than thou" high horse, then you'll never learn, and you'll never grow.

You'll keep getting you're ass kicked, because while you think you've got skill, you don't understand what it is you're ****ing with.

Grow some balls, kid. Show me how, exactly, you're "the best wrestler in the WFW for years to come," without feeding me any bull**** about how you're going to win this match.

(Pause as he allows this message to sink in.)

Rocko Daymon
Abruptly switching topics, as I said earlier, John Doe hasn't changed one bit since I last fought the man at the Christmas Card.

He was a fool then, and he's a fool now.

If Doe decided one day to simply cut the crap and act like a real man, he'd be one fine athlete. Unfortunately, he insists on being thick-headed. Every week, he wastes twenty minutes of air time feeding his audience nothing but trash about how much his opponents suck and how one day a million years ago he pinned Troy Douglas' shoulders in the ring.

Newsflash, John: Other people have beaten Troy Douglas. It's nothing new.

I know one person you HAVEN'T beaten though, and you're looking right at him.

I could sit here and rehash the same stuff I've been trying to tell you over the past six months... but doing so would only be a waste of my time and yours. Nothing ever sinks in for you. The only way to make you understand is by kicking your ass. If that's what I have to do to show you I'm not quite the washed-up hack you think I am, then nothing will stand in my way to eliminating you from the rumble by any means necessary.

It's time to put up or shut up, Doe. Give yourself something to brag about other than the fact that you beat Douglas, or simply do us all a favor by shutting the hell up until the bell rings.

(Another pause.)

Rocko Daymon
There isn't much I could say to the other competitors...

Felix Red? Don't know where to begin with you. However, if the peanuts steal your soul in the back-alleys of corporate firehouses, you give me a call and we'll talk. I can't wait to meet you in the ring and see your skills first-hand.

To Cruise and Melton... I never got a chance to thank you guys for your support in our six-man tag match at Merrython, but in any case, I wish the both of you luck in this match. Know that while I'm on good terms with the both of you, I won't hold anything back in the ring.

Larry Tact, I'm sad to say I never had an opportunity to see you wrestle in any previous matches, and I know you only by reputation. But while everybody else has been simply hearing your words, rest assured I've been listening to every one of them. You're on the mark... and if I could take my pick of any man in this match as the most viable threat to my coming to a spot at the Superbowl of Wrestling, it would be you. I've never seen you in action, but after hearing what you've had to say, I can fully give you my respect. Looking forward to a good fight at Road to Glory.

Ditto for anybody else hoping to poke their head into the ring for the rumble. But understand that while I myself don't expect victory, I'll do anything I can to get there.

(He exits to the left. Camera trained on the WFW backdrop, we fade to black. Nothing more.)

SCENE ENDS

 

[TSiegel]

(Fadein, Cameron Cruise outside a race-car area as Mercedes and her niece Annie, both laugh and smile as they speed by Cruise.)

CRUISE (Smiling as well): And the crowd goes wild.

(Cruise turns around and faces the camera, leaning up against the fence area.)

It's amazing, the more you get into races the more boring they can get as you go along. I mean after all...you're turning left in circles over and over again, where's the feeling of excitement??

(Cruise pauses.)

It's not there, and never is.

(And again.)

Unless you're the one winning it.

(Cruise slowly paces away from the fence, and toward a bench nearby the track.)

But just like the race, here, I find myself in no real challenge with the exception of a few. Others, namely John Doe for one...seem to think that they've made themselves into contention, but really can't get anywhere near the track then in the officials box, where they wave flags all day.

Ya see Doe-boy....you can call me names and present little sketches that show everyone what you'd LIKE to do, but that's all there is to your repetoire isn't it?? You've never beaten me, not one time in more than one league, let alone a few others....

...so why is it you think you're even remotely CLOSE to a balcony-view of the four-way match here??

It's August, the summertime John, so my school you so regularly made attendance for and BEATINGS 101 that I've prepared for the Fall is still not open.

But for you...if you push me....will have no problem making a last minute exception for a Summer School Lesson.

Besides....

(Cruise turns back towards the track and watches his wife speed around the corner.)

I've got a race to win.

Make sure you wave the checker flag as I go by, John...

It's the one thing you do best.

(Fadeout.)