Episode 6: I Swear to Christ I'm Listening, You're Just Not That Interesting

RECORDING.

"Are these motherfuckers even trying? No, seriously?"

The ever interesting scene opens up to our favorite masked superhero wannabe (should you listen to the fucking idiots with nothing else to say) seated at a booth at some run of the mill diner in Smalltown, USA. However, a very odd thing is happening right now: this is the first time you've seen him without his mask on. Instead, he's dressed even more conspicuously, sporting a baseball cap, sunglasses and a faded, red stained black and white bandanna over his nose and mouth. In front of him on the table, is a glass filled halfway to the top with Coke. Why that's important, this narrator knows not, but it's my duty to report all of the useless facts!

"Hey, I'm asking you a question."

He waves his hand dead center in front of the camera, presumably catching the attention of its operator who snaps to life, jerking the camera rapidly upwards at the ceiling.

"Yeah, they are trying." Even in answering a question, this camera operator has about as much enthusiasm as a Eunuch watching a porno. She let out a breathy sigh to accompany this response, slowly dragging the camera back down to our main attraction.

"Christ, I definitely understand why the XWF needs me back so desperately even if I can't say say the same for why Eli does. The Congregation, without me, even with the numeric disadvantage, would do just fine without my involvement. Now, before someone gets that twisted, that's an insult at you. Yeah, I'm flat out telling you what's an insult and what isn't because you're too fucking stupid to see which is which for yourselves. That was an insult too, by the way.

For fuck's sake, who was stupid enough to actually open their mouths about me?"

"The ever so brilliant pair of Swagmire Swaggins and Andrew Morrison talked about you at length. Others mentioned you in passing. I assume out of fear."

Lazarus cracks his neck, and then his knuckles.

"Makes sense. Wait, who the fuck's Swagmire Swaggins?"

"I don't fucking know. All I know is that he was too much of a coward to insult you directly. Instead, he sent out his army of fellow homeless men to do his dirty work for him."

"You mean like Theo Pryce does whenever someone threatens to dethrone him? He decided to sic his army of more threatening motherfuckers all over me?"

"Exactly. He also likes to flip flop on insulting Mr. Radio."

"Wait, what? How do you not insult that wannabe tough guy?"

Our camera operator with an intensely intense feminine voice takes a sip from a cup of coffee that you just now see in the lower left corner of the lens.

"Could be because he lost to him."

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Hey, didn't you lose to Radio too?"

"Eliminated. Throwing someone over the top rope doesn't count as beating them."

"Oh, right."

"Anywho, onto the Swagmire promo where he gets one of his friends to insult me. Let me guess, he still thinks I'm an actual hillbilly with a stupid accent, right?"

"Exactly, how did you know?"

"He has the word swag in his name twice. Catching onto things isn't his strong suit, it doesn't take a fucking genius to know that. What else did his friend say?"

"That you got your ass kicked in every match you've been in."

"Three matches, one loss. Debut match; completely murdered Christine Nash and Levi Storm, two people this loser couldn't beat on his best day. Not because they're good, but because he couldn't beat Mister fucking Radio. This fucking ghostwriter needs to realize that just because he can get motherfuckers to say what he wrote for him, doesn't make it any less attached to him. You lost to Mister Radio and you're talking to someone else about getting their ass kicked?"

"Hasn't it been four?"

"Rumbles don't count."

A sigh from the camerawoman. "Whatever."

"Also, since he's one of the cockheads who likely think I snuck in and beat people without real effort: I eliminated your King and leader and John Samuels. The two biggest people in the match. While you still couldn't beat Radio."

"Apparently he still doesn't think that."

"So? He's a fucking moron."

"He also says you ripped off Samuels with the mask."

"Right, especially when I joined the XWF almost a week before Samuels did as Titan. Brilliant work there Swaggy. You're a real fucking Sherlock, you fucking braindead waste of space.

Fucking idiot."

"And he's also calling you a wannabe Feder by calling people ."

"Oh shit! Most of these motherfuckers have about as much masculinity as Jeffree Star and I'm getting backlash for calling them on it because someone else does it too? Stop the fucking presses!"

"Then more hillbilly shit."

"Right. Already smashed that to pieces."

Lazarus stands up and gets out of the booth, leaving his still full glass of Coke on the table. Impatiently, he waves the camerawoman over and she comes. Looking around presumably for any staff members, the pair duck out the door they came in through and wind up in the near empty parking lot. The only cars parked there are a couple of beat up pickup trucks and a sedan in similar condition. A broken glass bottle shatters further as Laz steps on it, making the only sound in a three mile radius it would seem as the shattering sound echoes.

"So, why did we just dine and dash to get out of paying for a couple of drinks?"

"Had to remind Swagmire more of home."

"Oh, right."

"You missed these antics, didn't you?"

"About as much as a towel rack up the ass."

"Damn, that much?"

"Fuck you."

"Maybe in a couple years. Also, this dark parking lot is the perfect place to make fun of Andrew Morrison, someone I do surprisingly remember."

"Surprisingly? You argued with him vehemently!"

"Your point being? I argue with a lot of people, here, let me call up my best fr- oh wait. Nevermind. Can't do that."

"Why not?"

"New phone, new SIM card. I don't got his number anymore."

"Poor you."

"I know! I, I need to rage and angst and whine about this! I need to scream this to the heavens, my first world problem is serious fucking business and no one else seems to understand me! Everyone tells me to stop whining, but I'm not whining! Everyone else is whining! RARARAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Spot on Andrew Morrison."

"Sweet. Anyway, let's get onto this promo. I actually watched this one."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I watch all Morrison promos. Cure for insomnia."

"Ah."

"Anyway, I know he called me the 'assassin' of the Congregation. Air quotes were so necessary because not only did the fucking big bad brute, scaredy cat fucking emo use them in an attempt to be a sassy black woman, but because he's a fucking moron who probably still believes that I'll kill him. Which I will. However, for now I gotta make a John Samuels level joke: I'll ass your assin."

"That was stupid as fuck."

"Exactly why it's John Samuels level. Say a bunch of random words that look like you're twisting their words around on them, but in reality does nothing more than poking fun at a single word like a severely less interesting Jessie Diaz. The only difference, is that crazy broad finds some way to actually twist the word into something. Something irrelevant and utterly worthless yes, but it's still something."

"Keep talking about her and people will start thinking you're her under the mask."

"Oh yeah, people are still guessing, aren't they?"

"Yep."

"Perfect."

"Back to Morrison?"

"Right.

Fuck it, let me get something straight here, in honor of the sexual orientation that Morrison definitely doesn't adhere to. That's right Swaggy, I'm calling the vagina muffin a . Call me Feder!"

Lazarus reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone. He pushes a few buttons before the boring, intensity lacking voice of Andrew Morrison fills up the air with his ranting pseudo spiritual cuntflappery:

Quote: It amazes me that this buffoon can smart up to me about my accomplishments when he has supposedly "been around" and yet has done nothing but prove Eli James wrong in that he hasn't ended me, and he hasn't come after me, except repeat the same garbage that everyone else tries to spill, but with more vulgarity.

"Can we do the Eminem shtick for this one?"

Another sigh. "Six minutes Lazarus: you're on."

"The big bad calling someone else a buffoon? Oh shit, I didn't know that I stepped into the fucking Twilight Zone! Right, cuz Eli making an idle threat definitely equals me being compelled to go through with it. He never talked to me about actually going after you and from the looks of it, he wants you to be a hundred fuckin' percent so the Congregation can centipede your ass back to whatever plain of Hell you claim to be living at. No excuses, Morrison. None at all. Also, vulgarity? In the XWF? Oh noez!"

"Oh noez hasn't been a thing since like 2009, stop trying to make it a thing again."

"What about all the Tumblr cunts who make up all of this fucksack's fanbase?"

"Tumblr isn't a thing."

"So, you're saying no one likes this guy?"

"Yes."

"Makes sense. Wait, since I just played a promo off my phone does that make me Griffin MacAlister too?"

"Without a doubt."

"Shit, I need to get higher than the fucking sky and develop a speech impediment that makes me unable to pronounce the letter g!"

Our camerawoman shakes her (damn fucking) head. Shout out to Peter Gilmour.

"Wait, he said something even stupider! Hold on, let me play this shit too!"

Same cell phone, same button presses. New result. Insanity can suck a dick.

Quote:Congratulations, Lazarus, you certainly have "risen" those insults out of nowhere. Tell me something I have never heard. Like Lazarus defeating Andrew Morrison. Or ANYONE relevant for that matter.

"Oh shit, he gets the Lazarus name! Wow! I'm so surprised! No, seriously. He knows things? Shit, next he's going to demand rights, like not being locked in a fucking cage at night because 'he's a human being!'

Fucking fuck.

Lazarus beating Andrew Morrison? Bitch, I called you the fuck out and instead of taking me on ASAP, you told me to fuck off while you jerked off your boy toy Michael Kelly who's deader than a doornail now.

Lazarus beating ANYONE (fuck yeah, yelling!) relevant? Way to call the guy you pledged allegiance too irrelevant. Way to call John Samuels irrelevant! Way to do my fucking job for me! Just let him run with this train of though for a while, he'll trash his entire team at this rate!"

"What a shithead."

"My thoughts exactly. Matter of fact, I ripped him to shreds enough for one lifetime. He's probably crying now and he hasn't even seen this promo yet. His bitch senses are that strong."

Laz walks over to that sedan alluded to earlier. The camerawoman reluctantly follows and before she can even get halfway to the passenger's side door, our hero throws a side elbow to the driver's side window and unlocks the door manually. Surprisingly, no alarm goes off.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"We're going on a little adventure," he says before disappearing under the steering wheel.

"Shit..." Despite her apprehension however, she opens the passenger's side door and hops in as the car sputters to life as the end result of a half decent hotwiring job.