3A: Alone

“Oh! I think I got it!” The camera shakes as it settles on a stable surface, pointed towards the dishevelled man seated in a director’s chair. The man brushes his hair out of his face. His eyes are reddened and his skin equally so, to the respective meanings of each.

“Yeah, there we go!” He speaks into the camera, apparently studying his own reflection. “I guess that’s the one positive thing that’s happened today. Lucky me.”

“I guess… I guess I should explain why I’m filming from a freaking iPad instead of having a world class production team here.” He looks dejected. “It’s probably easier just to play it for you.”

He pulls out an old iPhone 5 with four single dead pixels and a crack running down the entire length of the screen and navigates to the voicemail.

Play.

“Hey… uh… this is Steve Sayors here. I’m sorry, but uh, I won’t be able to come out to your shitty… I mean, um… I won’t be able to come out to talk to you today. I’m caught up doing… like… other stuff, you know? Like anything else. Sorry… I guess I’ll see you next time? Maybe?”

…

…

…

“Did you guys hear what I heard?” he asks.

Everybody silently laughing at you? Yes… yes we did.

“I thought that Steve was a journalist of the highest integrity,” he begins. “I mean, I know I can be difficult, but I thought Steve had a natural journalistic curiosity that even when presented with a challenge, he would rise to the occasion. I feel kind of betrayed, guys.”

He sniffs, and a solitary tear rolls down his cheek, before several more sniffs, and eventually – a sob. The camera stays pointed at his vulnerability. The tear reaches the corner of his mouth, and he flicks his tongue out to wipe it away.

“I guess…” he stutters through his depression, slowly recovering, “I guess that Steve, like everyone else – even supposed legends on Twitter – is only interested in maintaining the status quo. But that’s okay, right XWF? It’s okay to just keep doing the same fucking thing.”

“People will rally against Chris Chaos, or Louis D’Ville, or B.O.B…” he fumes. “…or a supposed sentient virus (yeah… like that’s a real thing), all so they can keep things the exact same way that they’ve always been. As if that’s somehow better. But what story is that really telling? People position themselves as the hero in the centre of their own universe, but don’t slow down to question whether they’re actually worthy of being the hero. Any dissenting views to their views? Well… they just get drowned out. Or ignored. Classic media move. Sayors and all his brethren just don’t give airtime to anything that might promote real change. How am I going to tell my story, how am I going to put my show on, if Steve isn’t going to turn up?

Most of all… what do I do with all of this?”



That’s a three-dimensional cardboard background for a puppet show, by the way. There’s even some little alternate sections of the background that different scenes can occur in. Just play along, guys.

“I mean… I guess I could just put on the show anyway?”

---

3B: High noon: The screenplay!


STOMP!

---

3C: Footprints

STOMP! STOMP! And fucking STOMP!

Jackhammering feet trample the puppet set, the puppets, and all the stupid fucking people they represent.

They all die.

Every last one of the assholes.

“You know what? Fuck all of this nonsense and fuck all of you!”

STOMP!

The camera is positioned as such to reveal the Jigsaw puppet representing Dr. Louis D’Ville being positioned under the last lifted stomp. Jigsaw/D’Ville is covered in red. There is no logical reason for the colour, but let’s just pretend that the red is blood – it’s a nice visual.

“I had this whole magical story laid out. Some real high-brow shit. I’m talking wittier and more brilliant than Barney Green’s dick getting chopped off, which I know sounds impossible. But no!”

STOMP!

“I don’t know what I was thinking. This show was me trying to do something good, something fun. I just wanted to put a smile on people’s faces and show everyone what a neat guy I am. But Steve Sayors didn’t turn up because he doesn’t appreciate ME. If goody-two-shoes Steve doesn’t care, then why would any of you?”

STOMP!

“Fuck it. I see each and every one of you for what you truly are…”’

---

3D: Truth and fear

“There’s a tendency for people to view the familiar as being somehow better than the unknown. It’s the predictability, right? The devil you know.

Well… that and the fear.

The fear of being wrong.

The fear of not having all – or any – of the answers.

The fear of being exposed for the imposter that you truly are.

You can see that fear in damn near everyone.

Chris Page is the obvious one. Chris is afraid that he’s just not good enough to be the top guy. For his entire career, he’s been overshadowed by others. It’s Robert Main now, but in years gone by he’s always lived in the shadow of others, be it Big Shank, Rage, or even the monstrous Jimmy-Jam Raven-Man. Hell, Chris created an entire company to position himself as the top guy, because he just couldn’t get the job done here. Years on, it’s the same old story for Chris.

It must be hard. Every time Chris finds himself in a position to maybe – just maybe – convince people that he actually belongs in the same breath as other Legends, he gets his unworthiness thrown right back in his face. And it’s sad. This cycle is destined to repeat forever. Some young punk will step up to challenge him, make fun of how he’s never won the big one, and then BAM! He’ll fall short again. I know this is the easy approach to take when talking about Chris, but at the end of the day… it’s the truth.

And Chris, that terrifies you, doesn’t it buddy?

Champ Sportsman can probably relate. He’s afraid of falling out of the spotlight. He won’t ever utter the words, but he wears his fear all over his face and his actions speak loud enough for anyone to see it. He’s straight up begging to get just a little bit of someone else’s shine. He knows his lustre is fading. But there comes a time when every person needs to make peace with the fact that their body is failing them. And more importantly… when their mind is.

I know my words won’t matter much to you much, Champ, because I don’t have that ‘name brand’ that is oh so important here in the XWF, but hey, at least someone mentioned you, right? Don’t be afraid to admit your insecurities.

Thaddeus Duke is afraid of who he really is. He’s full of bluster but is completely and utterly out of touch with reality. He cherry picks facts, claiming that he’s the real number one contender, but then in the next breath admits that it literally isn’t true, as per the XWF booking committee. That’s not how facts or reality work! He claims he’s not ‘entitled’, but in his opening statement about why he’ll win this battle royale he said things like ‘It’s always been about me’ and declares that if he loses, he won’t accept it, and will still demand being put into the Warfare Title match. I don’t think he knows what the word ‘entitled’ means. But the real meaning of words doesn’t matter to someone like Thad.

He tries to chastise me for not showing up regularly, but it’s cool if Corey Smith doesn’t wrestle on the regular though, right? Corey’s got his rehab excuse, but nobody else could possibly have reasons of their own? That’s hypocrisy at its finest. He then attributes words to me that I never said. Let me be clear Thad, I don’t think that a Chris Chaos title reign is better than any outcome from this match. I’m in this thing myself, dumb-dumb!

I just think he’s a better option than you.

But hey, you’ve got your alternative ‘facts’, don’t cha?

Remind me again who the Donald Trump is?

You need to realise that you’re not one of the ‘good people’ that you think I’m trying to run off. I actually want the good people here. I want the ‘good people’, who will challenge everyone around them to be better, to stick around. I don’t want frauds who pretend to be all virtuous like they’re the second coming of Steve Jason, but are really just whiny, entitled brats, who are deeply insecure about who they truly are.

You see through me? I see through you. That’s your fear. You fear who you really are – the blood that pumps through your veins. You fear who that will make you into.

But hey, some people might get the message – others like you, Thad, might need to be ‘run off’. So be it. That’s why I’m here.

You can deny what you want to. Same goes for you Chris, and you too Champ. Deny! Deny! Deny! People often have a hard time confronting their fears.

Me? I don’t fear the truth.

As people have been so keen to point out, if I lose, I can just disappear back into the abyss. That’s the truth, apparently. So all I need to do is turn up on Warfare, or Savage, or even Anarchy, and all of a sudden I’m in the clear.

I control the truth.

Sounds like a pretty easy task if you ask me.

The hard part of this whole thing is trying to rationalise Corey Smith’s place. Since he likes lists so much and was even considering putting me on one – yay me! – I thought I’d make a list of the things that I admire about Corey:

1) His eyes
2) His nips
3) His pooper
4) His backstory that sounds like fanfic that some nerd would write on the internet
5) His honesty

That last one is big. It’s really refreshing to see someone so comfortable being as open about his flaws as Corey is. He’s got a laundry list of things that he thinks makes him an easy target. But Corey, baby, you’ve got everything twisted. Those are your strengths!

You’re open about trying to avoid becoming the monster that you were. That’s one big check mark next to where I said you’re better than Thad. At least once in your life, you’ve taken time to stare at yourself in the mirror and confront your reality. But sweetie, I’m worried that you need to hit the reset button again. Even though you’re a total twunk – I got you, bae – I’m not convinced that the man you are today is really a man worth aspiring to.

For example, making fun of child abuse? Yeah… not a ‘good guy’ move.

I’m worried.

It's not too late though! I know you’ve been through hell, but honey… at the rate you’re going, feeling like you need to throw barbs at everyone who opens their mouth… that’s going straight down the Baddy Daddy Thaddy route. You do that… you’re just going to start making hell for other people. Is that something you’re really okay with?

Be better.

I still love you.”

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3E: Leftovers

A kiss is blown to the camera as the man rises awkwardly from his chair and leaves. He bumps the surface upon which the camera is resting. It shakes and adjusts to a vantage point where a few storyboarded pictures fall in sight with scrawled, handwritten notation:

Marf eating some cunt Sexy times with Corey and Thad The only good Thad is a dead Thad Champ celebrating his surprise win.

“Wait… what the hell was that last one?”