Newark, New Jersey
Tuesday, April 10, 2018
1:50pm Eastern Standard Time


We find ourselves outside of Pest’s club “Apocalypse.” Aside from the random passing cars it’s fairly quiet in the surrounding area as the camera pans around. Suddenly a yell from inside the club breaks the quiet.


Newark, New Jersey
Wednesday, March 28, 2018
4:37pm Eastern Standard Time

We find Pest standing in front of the baggage carrousel waiting for his luggage. After a moment Pest notices his bag and reaches for it, stopping instantly and wincing as he reached with the arm Mandii focused on during their match. Pest stands upright allowing his bag to continue moving past him.

Motherfucka!

Pest shook his head and watched as his bag moved around the carrousel. Once it was in reach again, he grabbed it with his other hand, pulled up and handle and walked away rolling the bag alongside him. We follow him into the tram headed toward the long term parking lot as he leans up against the back window, letting out a deep breath. After a moment, Pest looks over into the camera and speaks to the cameraman.

So, I know I’m supposed to be, like, talking about my thoughts after my match or whatever…but I don’t really have nothing to say right now. You’re honestly wastin your time being here; though I’m sure you’re getting paid regardless. When I get to this garage, I’m getting in my car and goin to the crib. That’s probably all you’re gonna get.

The tram stops and Pest makes his way to the sliding doors as they open. He steps out of the car and makes his way towards his Impala, tossing his bag in the back seat. As he opens the driver side door and begins entering the car a black limo comes to a halt blacking him in. Pest, who is halfway in the car, looks back as an average built Asian man in a black suit steps out from the back of the limo. Pest, who appears to recognize the man rolls his eyes and steps out of his car.

Aww….come on dog…I just got back.

The man gestures toward the inside of the limo as he responds in Japanese; subtitles allows us to understand what he is saying.

Your presence is required, Johnson-San

Pest lets out a grown of frustration as he closes his door and makes his way into the limo.

Can we at least stop at a White Castle or something on the way…I’m starving.



“Little Tokyo” East Village, NYC, New York
Wednesday, March 28, 2018
5:15pm Eastern Standard Time

A middle-aged Japanese man sits behind a large oak desk within an office. Multiple framed pictures line the wall behind him; one picture in particular shows the man standing in between Yoshihiro and Pest. The two have their arm around the man and all three are holding a fist in front of them. After a moment, the door to his office is opened by the man from the limo allowing Pest to enter the office. Subtitles continue to enable us to understand the conversation.

I have to say that I am disappointed…please take a seat.

Pest responds as he sit.

Yeah? Well I’m disappointed as well…Shiro passed two White Castles on the way here and wouldn’t stop so I could get food.

The man chuckled.

White Castle is bad for your body; Shiro did you a favor.

The man grabs a kettle and pours two cups of tea before placing the kettle next to him and handing a cup to Pest.

Drink!

With two hands (adhering to Japanese custom), Pest takes the cup from the man.

Thank you, God-Father.

The man we now know as Pest’s god-father takes a sip from his cup before speaking.

When I convinced my younger brother to train you it was under the impression that you would continue the legacy of victory that his name brings. Yet here you sit after two loses in a row. This is not what we expect from you; you do understand that, correct?

Pest’s head begins to sink knowing how important success is to the Japanese.

Yes…but they are champions in the company. They have more knowledge…more experience.

The man shakes his head.

Tsk…if you cannot defeat champions, how do you expect to become a champion?

Pest looks up opening his mouth to answer but the man raises his hand before Pest can get a word out.

There is no need to respond. It would seem that you have not prepared yourself enough for this life as a professional wrestler. We shall remedy that. I have arranged for my brother to continue your training here. He will be here tomorrow and you will train with him for the next 30 days. If after that you require more training I will continue to bring him here.

Pest grimaces knowing the hell he will be in for the next 30 days.

I understand.

Good…then it is settled. Your training starts on Friday; Yoshihiro will be getting in contact with you. For now, go home and rest. I have had someone pick up your car from the airport and take it home for you. Shiro will be taking you home.

Pest looks down shakes his head.

Thank you god-father.

Pest stands and turn to leave before the man speaks again.

By the way, Yoshihiro told my about your little “joke” with our subtitles. It’s a very bigoted and unfunny gesture. I expect for you to change it

Pest looks back.

What color would you prefer?

Red

Pest turns and begins walking responding in English.

Fine.

As Pest walks to the door he stops in front of Shiro and speaks to him before walking out of the office.

You’re taking me to White Castle on the way home!



Newark, New Jersey
Tuesday, April 10, 2018
1:45pm Eastern Standard Time

Pest gingerly walks through the door of Apocalypse to find Beasley sitting off in the corner looking door at this phone. As the door closes Beasley looks up and sees Pest dragging himself in causing a smirk to grow on his face.

Damn dog, you look like shit!

Pest shoots Beasley an annoyed look before making his way behind the bar.

Look like shit?! I look like shit?! I feel like shit. This is bullshit man, every morning for the past week and some change, Yoshi fucks my shit up. Get up at 5, go for a run, chain wrestle, lift, puke, shit, cry.

This…

Fucking…

Sucks…

And if that’s not bad enough…if that’s not enough dick kicks to turn my outie into an innie, the gotdamn company puts me in a four-on-four and teams me up with a cat named N.A.Z.I. (who I’m sure is just gonna LOOOVE my skin color), Scully (who seems to be the only other capable dude on the team), and John Cena!

John fucking Cena!

I hate John Cena…

FUCK John Cena.

Beasley, who has gone back to looking at his phone during Pest rant responds without looking up.

I actually think homie's name is Ron Cena.

Pest looks up thinking to himself for a moment before looking straight ahead again.

Oh yeah? Well fuck him too!

This sucks…this whole situation sucks!!!

Pest throws his head back and his hands out.


Pest slumps onto the bar and puts his head into his folded arms while Beasley continues to look at his phone.

Well the good news is that when you win, you’ll get another title shot.

Pest’s head stays in his arms.

So.

This makes Beasley look up from his phone.

What you mean, so? Aint that the reason you doin this shit…championships? Mr. Money, Bitches, Championships? You got money, you get bitches…

Beasley looks around.

But I don’t see no championships around dis motherfucka!

Pest stands straight up tilting his head back, letting out a long sigh.

Fine…I want the fuckin championships; doesn’t make this shit suck less.

Pest looks over and see a FedEx envelope with his name on it.

Yo…what’s this envelope?

Beasley shrugs.

I don’t know…came for you this morning.

Pest opens the envelope and pulls out a registration form for John Ron Cena’s Hate Nation with a Stickie note attached to it.

“Yo ma nigga,

You forgot to fill this out. I also need two forms of ID and $250 for registration fees. The Hate Nation bout to make your bitch ass relevant!”

Rage comes across Pest’s face as he balls up the form and spikes it on the floor next to him.

MAN FUCK DIS NIGGA!!!!

Rage turns to inquisitiveness as a figure is seen walking up to the door of the club through the window.

Yo...who the fuck is that walking up to the door.

Beasley looks up and tilts his head over to get a better view.

No clue.

Well go see who it is man.

(To be continued)