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Your Lot is Losing - Printable Version

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Your Lot is Losing - The Engineer - 02-12-2018 05:31 PM

The image opens on the sight of a car windshield getting plastered by rain, beads of water pressing against the glass and pushed off by the velocity of the car as it plunges down the interstate at an irresponsible looking rate of speed. Traffic lights wink intermittently over the car, giving further testament to the fact that someone is in a hurry. And that someone....errr, someones?.....is Madison Dyson and The Engineer.

Engy is sitting in the passenger seat, body cranked around to face the camera. Madison is white knuckling in behind the wheel, clearly feeling the anxious effects of Fast and the Furiousing it during inclement weather.

[shadow=green]Before we start, I want to give some props to Pete the Camera Man for his flexibility and willingness to risk life and limb for the art of professional wrestling promotions. [/shadow]

Are we going to die?

[shadow=green]Not if Madison keeps her shit together. [/shadow]


[shadow=green]Think carefully about what you're asking for. Plus, I don't have a license. Technically. [/shadow]

Like that's ever stopped you before!

[shadow=green]Get around this asshole. [/shadow]

Engy reaches over and tugs at the wheel, causing Madison to abruptly change lanes to bypass a slower moving vehicle.



They put the other car in the dust, and thankfully it looks like clear late night sailing for now at least.


Engy chuckles and returns his attention to the camera.

[shadow=green]So, what we have here is the unfortunate confluence of a bit of family drama and a rapidly approaching promo deadline. So, to kill two birds with one stone....[/shadow]

Or kill two in a flaming car wreck!

What about me?

Like you count.

Words hurt.

[shadow=green]I'm sorry, do I have a Universal championship semi-final to promo for here...?[/shadow]

Engy looks at both Madison and then looks around the camera at Pete. When silence reigns, he clears his throat and continues.

[shadow=green]As I was saying, family drama, promo deadline, not enough hours in the day, time is money, yadda yadda....

DANNY! You showed up!

“Ohhhhhhhh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling....From glen to glen, and down the mountain siiiiiiide.....!”

Engy belts out the first couple lines of the old Irish shanty. Poorly. Madison winces and sucks her teeth in disdain.

[shadow=green]Except you're not very Irish. Nor are you taking me very seriously. Which is odd considering this is the biggest match of your....hmmmmm. Yeah, I was about to say it was the biggest match of your career but it really isn't is it? No, that was your match with Robbie Bourbon where you got handed the Universal Championship on a silver platter and instead of digging in to the opportunity most guys in the back would have killed for, you opted to starve. Ya dumb fuck.

Couple pointers Danny boy. I'm not the Nazi. That's Madison.

Hey, fu-ehhhhh, you're right.

[shadow=green]Another pointer, if you're gonna go the whole “tongue in cheek” parody route, you may want to make it FUNNY, and not just some ham fisted attempt to prove I'm wrong about you being a humorless Universal Solider jagoff at precisely the time you should be taking shit very, very seriously.

But yeah, thanks for doing all my work for me and reiterating the fact that you're a violent directionless retard who doesn't even see the inherent value in winning championships. If you're not in it for titles why the fuck did you even ink a contract? Why not just go the bum fight route like I used to do? Seriously though, I got some contacts. I mean, they don't have phones, but I can Google Maps you to some shanty towns on the outskirts of La Mesa that should fulfill your lust for utterly meaningless combat.

I think part of the reason I don't like you is because I used to be you. Back when I was too sick...too mentally ill....to give my life any kind of real purpose or meaning. I'm making up for lost time and ensuring I'm set for life now, so fuck me I guess for wanting to do something with my existence and not play off my remaining time on this mortal coil like some ghetto bootleg Kung-Fu, The Legend Continues.

Engy deepens his voice to sound like a dramatic voice-over.

[shadow=green]”And so goes Danny Imperial. Scouring the globe for his next challenge. His next rivalry. Seeking to test his limits, fighting for the honor and glory of fighting alone, and to strengthen! To better himself! To EVOLVE! [/shadow]

Bitch, you ain't some wisened warrior, you a POKEMON!

Engy busts out laughing.

[shadow=green]Heh heh...no Madison. I'm pretty sure even Pokemon wanted to win championships and be recognized as the best. But you know what Danny, I guess I can sort of see the appeal of the way you live your life, as schizophrenic as it is. I mean, it's pretty low pressure. If you're only fighting for the sake of fighting, well then who cares if you're winning championships. Any actual measure of success or failure becomes irrelevant. “Ah so, I relish the rush of combat. The fact that I haven't won a championship since forever be damned.” You can lull yourself into satisfaction with mediocrity. Go to sleep on a heavenly cloud of “I don't need no stinkin' titles”.

Livin' the dream man. Except are you really? Are you truly satisfied with the mark you've left here, being a placeholder for men greater than you? You got a TV title reign that lasted about a week. A Hart title reign that...well, goddamn...you had that for almost an entire month, slugger.

You know what I think this whole aversion to real success thing is with you? I think it's a big 'ol heaping helping of cognitive dissonance. Crack open a Psych 101 Textbook and see what I mean. “I can't win dick for championships, and that makes me feel bad. So I'll just pretend they're worthless baubles so I don't feel like an utter failure.” It's amazing the Olympics level gymnastics the human mind can perform to avoid feeling like you fucking suck. I should know. I lied to myself for decades.

But that's the big difference between me and you Danny. I stopped lying to myself. I realized my cognitive dissonance for what it was and I woke up and realized that playing the fool wasn't absolving me of being a fuck up and a target for abuse. And once I woke up....I woke the rest of the fucking world up.

The Engineer's expression changes with those final words. He looks back at the rain pelted wind shield for a moment before continuing, a determined look on his face.

[shadow=green]And I'm still waking the world up! I'm showing everyone. Win after win. It's gotta stop sometime, right? He can't win forever. And I know...I know...it'll end sometime. But not against you. For damn sure, not against you.

I'm not trying to tell you how to think or how to act or even to embrace chaos. You've already done that, and it's making you weak. You're like a CHILD Danny, drifting through life, letting it happen to you instead of imposing some goddamn CONTROL over it. Because deep down inside, you know that once you try to impose some control you become responsible for your actions and your own success and you don't want any part of that. So you settle in for aimlessness. Mediocrity. An utter LACK of purpose.

But what the fuck do I know? I've just been winning for the last 6 months. I'm just XWF's one and only double champion. I'm just the King of the Ring.

And you? You're just another profoundly wrong smug little shit-stain that I get to murk on my way to the top.

We're here.

[shadow=green]Oh that's good. I was about out of umbrage and that would have made for some very awkward silence. Danny, here's another part of my life I'm taking control of. Watch and learn. [/shadow]

The car pulls up to what looks to be a night club. Garish lights illuminate a walkway up to an awning, under which an unfortunate line of party goers is awaiting admission. Madison retrieves an unbrella and pops it open as she gets out of the car. The Engineer braves the elements. Pete opens his own umbrella to protect his expensive equipment lest Vinnie dock it lock, stock and barrel from his next pay check.

They approach the awning, and Madison instantly starts muscling through the crowd, drawing glares and shouts of protestation. She sidles up next to the bouncer.

Hey sweety, I'm Madison Dyson. You know, from Fox News.


Madison Dyson. Fox News. America's sweetheart?

She intones, more curtly this time.

End of the line....oh, hey Dex.

[shadow=green]They're both with me. [/shadow]

Sure man.

The bouncer opens the door for them as Madison shoots him a sidelong glower. They emerge out onto the club floor and into a morass of youthful, writhing bodies, swaying rhythmically to the pulsation of EDM music as strobe lights make the glitter and neon paint on their bodies pop.

Madison stands on her tip toes to try to peer over the crowd, and shouts out above the din.

I don't see him!

The Engineer wades into the revelers confidently, some of them part for him naturally, and other more inebriated dancers get quick shoulder thrusts or a slow but steady arm across the torso parting them out of his way. Any nasty glances are met with a glower from Engy that promptly shuts down any alcohol or drug borne bravery.

The Engineer casts his glance about, occasionally stopping male partiers to turn them around and get a better look before abruptly breaking from them. The camera has also waded in with the champ, and every once in a while it gets bounced or jostled, adding still more confusion to an already chaotic scene.

The Engineer finally breaks through to the other side, and the bar is to his left with restrooms to his right. He scans the bar briefly before settling his gaze on the rest rooms. He pushes open the door to the Men's, emerging right into a heated conversation.

The fuck is your problem, you were all over me before....?

Look, I....I changed my mind alright. I don't want any problems, not tonight....

Engy rounds the corner into the bathroom just in time to see a young man forcibly put a hand up his son Joachim's shirt. Joachim flinches, grabbing the young man's wrist to stop him.

You get off on being a fuckin' tease or something?

Wordlessly, Engy walks up behind the young man, places one palm on the side of his head and pushes his skull forcibly into the mirror above the sink. The glass spiderwebs and shatters, the young man not even getting time to scream before he enters the black. His forehead bounces off the edge of the sink, to add insult to injury, literally. Joachim's eyes goes wide.

Jesus, you psycho!

The young man lays prone on the ground, a pool of blood escaping from a deep gash from the porcelain. Joachim looks down at the injured boy, and then up at his father.

How did you find me?

[shadow=green]GPS tracker on your phone. [/shadow]

Joachim spits out an epithet that the camera doesn't pick up.

[shadow=green]Did he pay you? [/shadow]

Joachim shakes his head, features cramping in disgust.

No! I told you I don't do that shit anymore. God...he needs an ambulance.

[shadow=green]He's a rapist. He can get fucked. Are you okay? [/shadow]

Leave me alone....

Joachim goes to push past The Engineer, but Engy stops him, putting an arm out.

Move the arm.

[shadow=green]Talk to me. [/shadow]

About what?! About how you keep me trapped in that house? About how you want to parade me around like your little lost boy that swooped in and saved from a life of hardship? Fuck you! You're crazy and I want nothing to do with you! What part of this are you still not understanding!

[shadow=green]I understand. [/shadow]

The Engineer's voice is muted, almost soft. Its so unlike his usual cadence that even Joachim stops short.

[shadow=green]Sometimes part of having control is knowing when to let go. [/shadow]

What does that even mean?

Madison opens the door, and surveys the scene.

Oh, good work. You found him. Who killed the raver puke?

[shadow=green]He's not dead. [/shadow]

But he needs an ambulance.

Joachim pulls out his phone and starts dialing 911, but before he can finish Engy plucks the phone from his hand and lobs it into the toilet.


[shadow=green]What, now we can't track you anymore. You have your freedom. [/shadow]

This is exactly what I'm talking about, there's something wrong with your brain!

[shadow=green]Tell me about it. Madison, dial the number. [/shadow]


[shadow=green]No, the one I gave you before. [/shadow]

Hoooooo 'kay, but I still don't get THAT one.

The Engineer grasps his son by both shoulders, a warm fatherly embrace that, given the circumstances, seems more than a might bit out of place.

[shadow=green]Son, we'll never be the same and that's okay. I see that now. But up until this moment in time, you've been just another aimless wanderer, letting life victimize you. I'm giving you control. I'm giving you stability. [/shadow]

You want me to work with you in the XWF? We've already been over....

[shadow=green]No, I want you to work with HIM. [/shadow]

Madison hands Joachim the phone. He takes it tentatively.

[shadow=green]Answer it, it's for you. [/shadow]

Joachim, dumbstruck but intrigued despite himself, slowly lifts the phone to his ear. A voice intones on the other end.

Hey, I know you're probably pretty confused, but my name is Jim Caedus. Hear me out....