Explorers
::FADEIN on a cheap, dingy motel room. A super single bed, a small vanity, a circular table, and a single chair make up the room's decor. "The Wolf" Chris McMillan occupies the chair, his feet resting on the table. A cup of coffee steams close at hand, while a cigarette smolders in a nearby ashtray::
THE WOLF: I must be missing something. I mean, call me stupid if you will, but once again I’ve failed to understand a single thing you said, Luster. As best as I can figure, you’re spending your time preparing for our match by getting oiled up by some bimbo while eating a bizarre ghetto trail mix consisting of peanuts and skittles. And what’s the deal with this Magellan fixation? I assume you’re referring to Ferdinand Magellan, also called Fernão de Magalhães. He commanded the first expedition to sail around the world, but was killed by natives in the Philippines before the completion of the journey. What I fail to understand is what a sixteenth century explorer has to do with wrestling, and where your unhealthy fixation with him comes from. It’s odd, and more than a little disturbing.
::McMillan drops his feet to the floor and leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees::
THE WOLF: It’s really sort of sad, Luster. The sad thing is that you’re not even a real person. You’re a caricature of an actual human being. A walking, talking, breathing stereotype, and I don’t even think you know it. That’s the saddest part of all. You’re a pathetic little joke, and the person who finally puts you out of your misery should be given a medal, or something. Every time you open your mouth, Luster, I get angrier. It horrifies and enrages me that society spawns worthless fleshbags like you, and furthermore that you and people like you are quickly becoming the norm. Socially acceptable, driving our culture, dictating the consumer market, and ruining this country. At least I have an outlet, one small means of venting the rage that’s been seething in my heart. It’s in the ring, Luster, and you’re the lucky sumbitch that’s going to be on the receiving end.
THE WOLF: You talk a lot, Luster, but you ain’t said a damn thing. Well, let me say something. I am one of the best pure wrestlers in the sport today. I have spent years perfecting a mix of lucha libre, puroresu, martial arts, and shoot wrestling. I have wrestled in cages, on ladders, on the streets, on thumbtacks, barbed wire, and through fire. For five years I have lived this sport. I have spilled my blood, I have broken my body, and I have given my soul. And you, do you really think that I’m going to let some cookie-cutter, mass-produced little punk like you stand in my way, even for a second? You think about that. You think about me. Forget about your oil-bearing little bimbos and you think about me. Then take a good, long look at yourself. Are you happy with what you see? Are you happy with who you are? Have you ever been taken to the absolute limit, broken, bloodied, battered, and begging for more? I have. Are you ready for that?
::FADE TO BLACK::