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Scott Charlotte · (07-25-2020)

[Image: ade8cedd68afa7c4f0c78a43bc1e7e7b.jpg]

Last week we brought you an episode of Wrestlers of No Regard. This week, we are sorry to say that our lead interviewer Clarence Clandecker is out of commision. Do not fret! We have expertly acquired a new man who is leagues above Clarence. Ladies and Gentlemen, give it up for...The Wraith!

The Wraith: Thank you, thank you. Words cannot express how excited I am to be joining you all this evening. Tonight is very special. Part two of our interview with wrestler, Scott Charlotte, begins now. Who better to speak with him than himself.

The Wraith is sitting in the same seat Clarence was in the last part. On the table in front of them is a half eaten plate of chicken wings no doubt assaulted by Scott and Phil the cameraman. Scott is sitting across from the Wraith and is of course without his mask. He looks almost uninterested in the interview. The Wraith snaps his fingers and Scott attention shifts to his master.

The Wraith: Scott, you put on that mask to protect yourself because you don't think you're good enough without it. Why?

He begins almost robotically, but quickly gains emotion as he continues.

Scott: Before I became the Wraith I was nothing. Just some punk kid trying to make it big when he barely could throw a punch. I tried to join with people, Q.C. Thug and the Young Guns hoping their strengths would overshadow my weaknesses. Sure I got a title, but really how much did I even do? People never took me seriously until I reinvented myself.

The Wraith: It can be said they still don't.

Scott: That's the fucked up part about. When I first did this I wanted to push myself out there as something so different, but then you got all these other guys who want the same thing. To be seen. So, they put on a mask, say some cryptic stuff and hope some idiot in his basement somewhere latches on. The people in the back just laugh at that stuff because it's such a trope. A cliche in the world of wrestling. I mean how many guys go out there and say if you listen to me everything will be better. I'll eat you or kill you or send my goons after you if you don't comply. It's the same story told a thousand times, but I like that story.

The Wraith: You seem different now.

Scott: Really? Age has it's advantages, I'd guess. Right now this duality in my soul won't let up. Sometimes I feel like making a dumb joke and saying I'll hit you with a stiff Groupie Killer, a finisher that's also cliche. A minute goes by and I've got a mask on, which by the way I'd like to say that trying to insult me with it's resemblance to a villain in a superhero movie is pathetic. Do you really think that's an original thought? Don't point out the obvious and expect it's going to get a round of applause. Mention something better, talk about what I SAID not about how I look. That's depressing to hear. I guess that pissed me off a lot more than I admitted at first. Logan could be better, but he is just making the same mistakes I made when I was younger and soon enough people will forget about him, he'll leave and then come back to fail again. Maybe he will look like Darkseid? Who cares. My words are the power you need to cripple.

The Wraith: You're falling off topic.

Scott: Sorry, I got lost. I can say that this time is different from all the other times, but I know down to it's core it is not. The only difference now is that I feel like I'm channeling both of my inner demons. This real person and this specter. That's something I can work with. All my life people have put me down for doing anything no matter if I was right or wrong. My brother would make fun of my looks, weight and hit me for good measure. I was always told how much better he was than me and yet I knew he was shit, but it didn't matter. I'm the black sheep. The only wrestler in my family, a single waste of space. No kids, mom, sorry I can't put this shit into anyone else's head. My anxiety is astronomical, it could devour planets.

The Wraith: You're rambling.

Scott: Damn right I am! Haven't you ever been lost and just kept going in different directions until you found the right path home?

The Wraith: Or found the right path to death.

Scott: Yeah, but it's high risk, high reward. Sure, you might die, but you also might live. That's life!! You don't seem to understand.

The Wraith: I understand. I am you after all?

Scott: True.

The Wraith: Anything you want me to feel, I feel.

Scott: It works both ways.

The Wraith: True.

Scott: I have more conversations with myself and than I have with an actual human being.

The Wraith: You don't think you're human?

Scott: No.

The Wraith: How so?

Scott: I don't mean I think I'm some sort of demon, even if that's what you make me say. No, I'm just not human. A husk, I'm a husk of human. That moldy sarcophagus that's long since been empty thanks to the worms. To the people, that doesn't sell. Nobody wants to hear about shit like that because it makes them think about how sad they are or how angry they are. They'd rather sit back with a drink and hear a pirate sing a tune about his opponents. Or listen to a man use the word Dick as a double entendre. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed those guys. It's just that's the kinda of stuff that gets people in the seats. It's so different than the millionth guy wanting them to join them in their solidarity of somberness. Oswald thinks we are the same. Philosophers. He couldn't see past the lie that I am telling myself. I'm a fucking idiot.

The Wraith: Don't say that.

Scott: What?! It's true! You know it and everyone else out there knows it. How in the fuck did I get the air of respect from any of these guys like Raven, Vinnie, Price or Az? Because I said some words like I'm some sort of nobleman. That's acting, assholes.

The Wraith: You don't really think that. When you don the mask and play this part, so call it, you actually believe what you are saying. You aren't one person.

Scott: I know that, but-

The Wraith: But what? Embrace it! Don't get in your own way like you always do. You are the only thing standing in your way. You have real competition on Sunday, even the guys who barely win can throw a wrench into your plans.

Scott: Roberts?

He says with a pinch of jest.

The Wraith: Yes, but don't just laugh that off. Threats come in all shapes and sizes. The pirate and the clown are big threats. They shouldn't be taken seriously at all, but you've got bigger names putting up bets for them to win!

Scott: Yeah what's up with that? Isn't there some sort of issue with Atara and Knuckles just out right saying they are going to win? It's disrespectful to myself and everyone else in the match.

The Wraith: People make predictions all the time.

Scott: Yet my name never leaves the lips of the lunatics.

Wraith chuckles at the comment.

The Wraith: You're calling them lunatics? Pot.

Scott: Kettle. I get it, but it really fucks with my head to have that vote of no confidence from people who have titles or will have titles. To be honest my bets are on their losses, but I know that only comes from a place of anger. I want retribution for their words.

The Wraith: They don't owe you that.

Scott: But they owe me something! I want people to take me seriously!

The Wraith: Shouting that won't help.

Scott: It might. I don't know. You're right, it won't. The only thing I can do is get in the ring and prove myself even if I lose.

The Wraith: That's the spirit. You can grow from loss and you might be able to hurt them a bit. You get eliminated, but then you help Azrael out of the ring by smashing his face into the floor. Then you gouge out Acab's only good eye, then rip of Powers favorite Richard. Break Storm's bones, stab Logan in the ear. Just let it out, Scott. Drown Robbie in his own drink. Slam Roberts into the dirt. Eviscerate Oswald. Throw Mcbride into an iron maiden and watch the blood drip. Call a doctor for Trust and welcome Mackenzie to the XWF by ending her career by breaking her spine.

The Wraith gets louder as he monologues on maiming his and Scott's opponents. Scott's eyes widen in horror and then he replies with disgust.

Scott: Jesus.

The Wraith: What? It's what you were thinking. It's what you want. Remember how this started? We were obsessed with pain because it's the only way to show people your true self. You don't want to have people join you. You want them to become you. To know how it feels to be laughed at and ignored. That's power.

Scott licks his lips and smirks.

Scott: Power is appetizing.

The Wraith: It's delectable. Don't you agree, Phil?

The Wraith motions to an unseen person behind the camera. Heavy breathing is now heard and in shaky voice, Phil responds.

Phil: Um...look I just want to go home.

The Wraith stands and laughs as he places his hands together. He walks off camera and Scott follows him with his eyes. Horrendous screams of pain echo throughout the apartment. Scott looks to Keith's open door thankful that his roommate had left. Crying can now be heard and then Phil screams.

Phil: OKAY OKAY I AGREE, PLEASE.

The Wraith: Thank you. This interview is almost over, don't worry, my boy.

He walks back in frame and adjusts his white coat. Phil attempts to reason with him.

Phil: Mr. Clandecker-

Wraith turns abruptly. He points a finger towards Phil and snorts.

The Wraith: He's not here right now, please leave a message.

He puts his hand to where his ear should be a waits. He gets no answer and Wraith walks back to his chair. He sits and sighs acting as if nothing has happened.

The Wraith: Scott, it feels like you haven't really addressed your opponents enough. I want you to let it out. No holds barred.

Scott: Why? There's too many in this match to get into. Nobody really wants to spend the effort in going over each and every line they've said about them. It's exhausting.

Wraith leans forward and points at Scott in an accusatory manner.

The Wraith: You see the hypocrisy there?

Scott: Roberts.

The masked man throws his hands up in victory.

The Wraith: Yes.

Scott: I want people to acknowledge my words, but I also understand how tiresome it is to get into. So, yes, I am a hypocrite. In my defense it's not like anyone ever says anything of merit. At least, not this low on the card. I have to walk in and make a statement before I can have a match later in the night. Make people want to wait for me, whether it's to see me win or lose. I want to win, I think I can win, but if I lose it doesn't matter. I'll say it again and again until the point is made. The Wraith begins at Leap of Faith. I said it seven years ago and it never deviated. I'm fucking Mozart in this bitch and all of you plebs are Salieri.

The Wraith: Solid reference.

Scott: I googled it.

He shows Wraith his phone, but Wraith ushers it to be put away. Scott complies.

The Wraith: I know. Look, I'm growing a bit weary of this doll. I'd rather come home if you don't mind. You've been very honest, yet a bit flighty, with me today. I'm proud of you.

Scott nods and attempts to give Wraith a smile, but is barely able to do one believably.

Scott: Thank you, I'm proud of you too.

Scott stands and walks over to the Wraith and places his hands on the mask.

The Wraith: Remember, if you can't be better, then make them just...like...you.

He pulls the mask off and the man under the mask is revealed to be Clarence. He gasps and looks around the room anxiously as if he had just awoken from a nightmare.

Clarence: What, what happened! Phil?! Scott, what the fu-

Scott has turned around and placed the mask back on his face.

"The Wraith" Scott Charlotte: You saw it, didn't you. The man. He doesn't like you, Clarence. At least you understand now. Please, leave when you are ready.

Clarence shakes his head and grabs his hair in a panic. He rips some of it out unknowingly.

Clarence: Phil let's go! Grab the camera!! I don't want to be here!

Clarence stands and rushes out the door. The camera shakes and Phil takes it off it's stand, knocking over the stand in the process with loud CLACK. He tries to leave out the door.

"The Wraith" Scott Charlotte: Oh, Phil.

Phil turns and the camera turns with him. The Wraith is standing directly in the frame as his eyes shine in the light. They no longer seem human, but at the same time have a tint of sadness.

"The Wraith" Scott Charlotte: You're welcome anytime. Those wings won't eat themselves you know.

Phil is unable to speak. He runs out the door, wheezing the whole way. He runs to the van as Clarence is already in attempting to start the vehicle. He is yelling about something, but it is unintelligible. Phil stops in his tracks and places the camera in his hand. He tries to open the door, but it is locked.

Phil: OPEN IT!

Clarence says something again, but Phil can not understand him.

And then...

CRASH.

The van is crippled by a truck slamming into the back. The camera is stuck on Phil's red face, covered in dirt from the ground.

[Image: p_197-329-tragedy-comedy-270x270.jpg]

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