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Meta - The Engineer - 08-09-2017
We open inside La Case Del Dyson. Madison enters through a rear door in the kitchen. She tosses her keys on the counter and immediately heads to the alcohol cabinet. She pulls out a bottle of brandy and a glass and starts poring herself a drink. But then, strange feeling comes over her. An itch at the back, something she missed. She puts the glass down and turns around slowly, with some trepidation.
'Sup!
Engy's sitting at the kitchenette in the center of the room, hastily downing a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Madison frowns deeply.
YOU!
ME!
Engy points at himself smiling, thinking its a game. It is not.
You have some cast iron juevos coming in MY house after the shit you've been pulling! Screwing Chris Chaos over without asking MY permission. Not answering my calls! Galivanting with this mystery psychiatrist!
Uh, Maddy....?
No! Shut the fuck up! You've taken yourself off the meds I've been giving you and replaced it the pill this quack has been giving you too, haven't you?
I got somethin' important to tell ya...
Shut. The Fuck. Up! And to top it all off you're still banging on the drum of this stupid Aiwass shit! WHEN DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO HAVE INDEPENDENT THOUGHT?! HUH?
MADISON!
Madison stick her hand up to silence him again, because this rant rain is not letting up anytime soon. That is, until the brief pocket of silence is punctuated by the distant sound of a toilet flushing. Madison cocks her head.
Who the hell is in my bathroom?
It's....!
You know what, nevermind. Because I'm about to pump whatever crab ridden transient skank you just let into my house full of holes.
Madison pulls a handgun out of a nearby cookie jar. What, she's a Republican, those people have guns everywhere. She checks the safety and turns it off.
NO! Madison, it's....!
YOU HEAR THAT? I'M STANDING MY GROUND!
Footsteps start to echo down the hallway. Madison takes up a practiced firing stance and levels her aim at the entryway to the kitchen. And after a few tense seconds, out steps....
President Donald J. Trump.
Holy fuck, MR. PRESIDENT!
Madison quickly dumps the gun into the sink. The Donald takes the newspaper he was carrying and rolls it up under his armpit, looking nonplussed.
I tried to tell you!
Sorry Madison. It was a long trip and I really had to take a shit.
Madison rushes over to the president, breaking out into full fawning mode.
Oh, my God, I am SO sorry sir. Engy why the fuck didn't you tell me the PRESIDENT was here?! Ugh! Can I get you anything? A beverage? A snack? A high class but definitely disposable Russian call girl?
Donald waves her off and pulls up a stool at the kitchenette next to Engy.
That's alright Madison. I won't be here long. I'm just checking in on my investment.
The Donald claps his hand on Engy's back in a friendly manner. Engy grins at him, milk and mushed children's cereal dribbling down his chin. Madison pulls up a stool across from them.
Oh! Well, things are...well, they're great sir! I don't know how much Engy's told you, but he's in some big matches at the pay per view and by the end of the night, we fully intend on him walking out as both the King of the Ring and the Xtreme champion. And, as for me, I've taken Jenny Myst under my wing and I'm working to shape the future of women's wrestling! We've been very, very busy. But all for you sir, and the American people, of course!
Yes, yes...and all of that sounds just fantastic. I'm particularly proud of Engy here. I mean, what better American success story than that of a disabled person, pulling themselves up by their boot straps and becoming a king? Heart warming, life affirming, and the perfect way to distract the media's attention from the Mueller investigation.
What's a Mueller?
My point exactly. But I couldn't help but overhear you say that Dr. Bennie is a quack.
Madison looks stunned. She begins to stammer.
Wait, you me-mean, you know this g-guy?
Oh, very well! Known him for years. Very professional. Very smart. In fact, I'm the one who referred Engy to him.
I had absolutely NO idea. I.....wow, ok....
Look, Madison. I know it may be very hard for you to believe, but I see a lot of myself in Engy.
Engy is positively beaming. He smiles stupidly at Donald and brings another spoonful of cereal up to his face. He sees that a fly is drowning in the milk in his spoon. He shrugs and throws the fly down the hatch as well.
So it is for that reason that I think I'm in a unique position to know what's best for him. Madison, please don't be upset with Engy for following Dr. Bennie's treatment. The man is a visionary, and I strongly feel that it is in Engy's best interest to keep going.
Madison seems to be at a loss for words for once.
I....wow. Okay, yeah sure! I mean you ARE the president, and if you think that's what's best for Engy then, well, I think so too!
Great! Glad we could see eye to eye. Well, I have to go. Very important president stuff to do today. Engy, keep up the great work. Can't wait to see you with that crown!
Thanks uncle Donald, I can't wait to see you with your crown too!
Trump reaches across the counter and shakes Madison's hand, and then turns to shake Engy's. He then gets up and departs out the kitchen door. Through the wraparound porch windows, we see that the president's private helicopter bearing a big gold TRUMP logo, is sitting in Madison's back yard. Secret service agents rush to the president's side as the rotors on the helicopter come to life. Madison marvels at the sight.
How the fuck did I miss that?
Trump is assisted up into the helicopter. Madison returns her attention to Engy, who is still watching Trump through the windows fondly.
I wish Uncle Donald was Daddy Donald instead.
Madison snaps her fingers in Engy's face, drawing his attention.
Ok, fine, you win. Keep seeing the psychiatrist. But can we please, PLEASE drop the Aiwass stuff? It makes you sound like an even bigger lunatic than you already are.
BUT AIWASS IS REAL! Dr. Bennie said so!
Oh, for the love of.....**sigh**....Look, I know why you're doing this. I get it. I've been watching all the promo's too. You want to be special. Like, actual special, not “
” special. You see all the crazy shit Trax and Panzer are doing, like the interdimensional adventures, and the super powers, and becoming an international crime king pin while having serial killer ghosts in your head or some dumb shit, and you feel inadequate. You feel like you don't measure up. But have you stopped and asked yourself why, despite having all that seemingly cool stuff going on, NOBODY takes Trax and Panzer seriously? Uh uh.
Because it's fuckin' stupid, that's why. I mean....eh, let me put it to you this way. Less is more. Okay? Like, when you're on PornHub, which is more interesting, a girl who lets it all hang out, or a girl who is playfully covering her nipples and leaving some to the imagination?
Oh, I wanna see the whole titty!
Madison cups her face in her hands for a moment and then picks her head back up.
Alright, bad example. How's this? You know when you're a kid, and there's always this little shit head on your block who, every time you hang out, and you're showing off some new toy you got he always has something more? Like, you just got a Sega Genesis but he got a Sega CD and a Super Nintendo? Or, you just got a new Power Ranger action figure but he got the whole Megazord? And he's constantly bringing it up and he thinks it makes him look cool but in reality he's full of shit and his family can't even afford to get him an Atari and all hes really doing is making himself look really, really insecure and lame? That's kinda like what Trax and Panzer are doing.
Engy takes the final slurp of his cereal.
I never had friends.
GET IN THE CAR!
We cut to Donald Trump on board Air Force 1 some time later that day. He looks around the cabin and gestures for his bodygaurd to leave the room. The guard nods and departs. Trump takes out his cell phone, dials a number, and dutifully waits for the response.
Yes, Dr. Bennie? It's Donald. I did what you asked. I talked to Madison. **Pause** Yeah, it went well. I don't think she'll try to stop him from seeing you. But...well....
He casts a paranoid glance around the cabin.
...I really need more Algernon, okay? I did what you asked! I'm starting to get
again. This is serious! I can't even read my intelligence briefing! The Donald waves a sheet of paper around in frustration. It looks like a page torn from a coloring book, featuring a colorless image of Kim Jong Un with the words “This is a bad guy” underneath.
I can have some more?! **Pause** Oh, thank God! Praise Aiwass!
We cut away again, and this time we return to Madison and Engy. They are entering what looks to be a church basement. The kind of place they hold AA and other intervention style meetings, and based on the fact that there are a number of people sitting in metal folding chairs in a circle, it looks like we just may be coming on something similar. Upon seeing this, Engy puts on the brakes.
Ohhhhh no! I've been to these kinda meetings before. They're gonna tell me to stop taking drugs and drinking Red Bull Jager bombs!
First off, that shit will kill you. And second of all, it's not one of those kind of meetings. I mean, this IS an intervention, but it's for wrestlers who overdo it on the whole character development thing and end up making themselves look stupid.
They have MEETINGS for that?
Yeah, turns out they do. And it may seem like a plot device to hammer home a metatextual point but just deal, ok?
Madison casts a knowing look at the fourth wall.
'Kay!
Engy bounds over to the ring of chairs, finds one, and makes himself at home. Madison takes up a seat next to him.
I apologize in advance for his smell, but he has no olfactory glands.
A woman sitting next to Engy scoots a foot away from him. A middle aged man approaches a podium situated at the front of the group.
Hello everyone, and thanks for coming back. We also have some new faces here tonight, so we've got a lot of ground to cover. I understand that a couple of you wanted to give updates on your progress?
Engy moves to get up and walk towards the podium, and Madison yanks him back down. A muscular man in a tank top gets up and takes the podium.
Hello everybody. I'm Pete, but I wrestle as “Virtuoso” in PCWA.
Everyone in the circle intones “Hi Pete!”
I've been coming to group for a few months now, ever since I realized I had a problem with....with, ya know....character development....
Frank's gaze shamefully breaks from that of the audience for a moment.
I first started out wrestling 8 years ago, and at first things were great! I won the tag titles 6 months in, couple great matches at a couple pay per views, won the secondary belt, started garnering a fan base. I was Pete Virtuouso back then, kind of a fan favorite working class ex-football player everyman shtick, you know the drill. But then, I started getting stale. People started losing interest. And I...I panicked! I lost my mind! I started getting sucked into...into...
It's ok, we're all here to support you.
**Takes a deep breath** I decided to become a vampire. Not just any vampire, but a SUPER vampire. I was a vampire who was immune to sunlight and garlic and all the stuff that normally hurts vampires. No reason really. Just because I said so. I started going just by “Virtuoso” and started dressing like Robert Smith. It was like a drug! I felt like such a badass. I was so sure that this was my ticket to success. I would cut all these promo's where I just savagely murder mooks, like entire gangs of guys. And I would turn into a bat. A super bat with sonar that would liquify people's brains. I was so sure I'd get over but....but, fan reaction started getting worse! So I decided to try to make myself MORE awesome! I started a storyline where I was like, the descendent of a race of ancient vampire space princes who were the secret rulers of the universe. I got a spaceship and everything. And then I started conquering the universe and nobody could stand up to me because how the FUCK do you beat a super space vampire? You don't.
Eventually, I crawled so far up my own ass that I stopped even watching or responding to my opponents promos. I was so fixated on being unstoppable, and awesome and cool. But then people in the audience just started bringing signs that said “Mary Sue” and at first I didn't know what that meant. So I googled it and....and....oh my God they were right....they were right....I was...I was...
….I WAS AN AUTHOR SELF INSERT!
Pete breaks down and starts to cry at the podium. The group leader pats him on the back.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT I HAD TO DO TO AFFORD ALL THE CGI IN THOSE PROMO'S? Do you? I started whoring myself out! I SUCKED DICK FOR SPACE VAMPIRE PROMO'S!
Pete has clearly broken down beyond repair. He's sobbing uncontrollably and pulls himself away from the podium. The group leader intones into the mic on the podium.
Why don't we take a brief recess, hmmm?
Madison and Engy are sitting in the car across from the church. They've both gotten ice cream from somewhere.
So, what have we learned today?
Madison takes a bite of her ice cream.
That I don't want to suck dick for promos!
Aaaaaand?
That the harder you try to look awesome, the less awesome you actually look.
That's right! And no one wants to come across like some pixie stick snorting 10 year old's masturbatory wish fulfillment fantasy.
Engy stabs his spoon into his birthday cake flavored ice cream and gobs it into his mouth.
So Phantom Panzer sucks then?
He sucks HARD.
Well, shit.
Engy sets his ice cream down next to him.
Then what about Seth Fedder?
Madison finishes her ice cream and sets the bowl aside.
That's actually a good question. We're gonna have to find a way to shit talk this guy somehow, but I swear if he hasn't lucked out and ended up being the only sinker in a bowl full of floaters. We'll figure it out.
Madison puts the key into the ignition and turns the car on. Engy looks pensively out the window, and then back at Madison.
But what if we're wrong?
...about?
All this. Like, maybe Trax and Panzer really do have powers and....
Madison thumps her head against the steering wheel in frustration.
Jesus! Have you been doing that creepy “seems awake and talking, but is actually asleep” thing all day again?!
No! I'm awake! But...but....sometimes I think that maybe not only is the universe stranger than we imagine, but stranger than we CAN imagine...
Madison's mouth hangs open, and she wheels around in the driver's seat to look at Engy.
That may be the most cogent and thoughtful thing that has ever come out of your mouth.
Yeah, my brain 'membered that from somewhere. I forget where. But sometimes shits just weird, yo....
Madison turns back around in her seat, her face bearing an expression somewhere in the ballpark between confused, surprised, and questioning. She casts a glance up in the rearview mirror.
Something next to Engy moved.
She spins around in her seat again, heart suddenly racing. It wasn't possible, but she saw something next to him in the backseat. Something....something that looked like a nothing. A gap. A recess in reality. But how the FUCK do you see nothing?
It had to be...it had to be...
What's up?
....my imagination.
Huh?
Nothing.
Madison turns back around. She grips the wheel tightly, her features pulled tight in response to a sudden crawling in her guts. It takes her a moment to collect herself before she pulls away from the curb.
It was nothing, right?
And if so, why couldn't she bring herself to look in the rear view mirror for the remainder of the drive back?
Stranger than we CAN imagine, indeed.