Lux leans up against the dust encrusted 2009 Chevy Impala, gas nozzle inserted as the pump helpfully counts up to a full tank. With her other hand, she holds her new phone up to her face, thumb racing over the icons. Seeing a notification, she presses the voice mail icon and brings it up to her ear. Listening, she simultaneously responds to the “thunk” of the pump as the tank registers as full and she returns the nozzle to the rack.

At the conclusion of the message, she scowls, pulling the phone away from her head. Corey's mental image appears in front of her. Can we have Cheez-Its? He points back at the mini-mart.

No, they're poison.

They are not.

They're not even food.

Says you. He takes a second look at her when he notes her scowling. What's wrong?

Lux simply holds the phone up in the air, pressing the voice mail button again and turning the volume all the way up so Corey can hear,and he grimaces when he realizes it's Vincent Lane.

Hey dude-lady, it's your boss. Listen, we're a week out from March Madness and we got to drum up some more media exposure. So I decided we're gonna throw a bone to the normies and put you on Ellen. Normally I'd send Drezdin....

Corey mouths “Drezdin?” in confusion and Lux just shrugs.

...but it turns out hes got some big GQ photo shoot thing the same day. So, it's all you. You got 24 hours to get your ass to Burbank for the taping. She'll be waiting. I'll text you all the rest of the details. And remember, if you flake on this you're out of the tournament. 'Later.

Corey clenches his fist in happiness, pumping it into the air.

Oh yeah, and I still want my receipts.

He unclenches his “success” fist, putting it down slowly and muttering a profanity. Lux disconnects from the voice mail. Damn it.

I know, right? He's got a serious hard on for proofs of purchase.

I'm not talking about that. We're a little busy here, we don't have time for this.

But you said we were headed to Oregon anyway, right? Is it really THAT much of a detour?

It's enough of one. Lux let's out a huff of air, looking up at the sky as if expecting divine guidance from on high. The orange Texas sun is starting to hang low, the skyline of Austin in the distance burning bright. But I guess we don't have a choice, do we?

We DID make a promise. And we DO kinda need his help. Corey offers, leaving the exact identity of their mysterious ally anyone's guess.

Fine. Lux concludes. But we're in and out. Understand?

Corey claps his hands together excitedly, but of course it makes no sound. I LOVE Ellen! She's like America's sweet yet strangely unmarried auntie!

Lux tries not to, but can't help but chuckle as she gets in the car. Corey disappears, and then reappears in the back seat. Are we there yet?

I will find a way to kill you. Lux deadpans. Throwing the Impala into drive, she peels away from the gas station, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.

LATER....




The stirring applause of the crowd reverberates through the sound stage located in the famous Warner Brothers Studios. Corey peeks in from just off stage as Ellen does her customary dance through the crowd.



Corey finds himself clapping his hands along with the beat of her theme music, smiling wide and allowing himself to enjoy this moment of reprieve from the fierce promo wars and Lux's caginess about the exact nature of their target. But, Corey isn't able to enjoy the moment long before someone takes hold of his shoulder and pulls him back. He wheels around and sees a woman in a black and red pantsuit, with an expression that screams “I got sick of your shit 10 minutes ago.”

I'm sorry, you are...?

I'm the producer. The woman barks. And I'm here to make sure you don't fuck this up.

Corey tries on one of his most disarming smiles. Hey, hey, hey....what makes you think I'm gonna fuck this up?

The woman's eyes narrow, and her teeth grind together beneath her lips. Let me make one thing crystal fucking clear Mr. Smith. That woman out there? She points out towards Ellen. She's a goddamn SOOTHSAYER. A paragon of unpretentious, unintimidating gentility that speaks to the common women of this country. In short, Mr. Smith, this is a NORMAL show, for NORMAL people who just want to talk about celebrities and have a brief respite of light entertainment to beat back the onslaught of drudgery that is the rest of their lives. I know what you XWF people are like...

You mean like Drezdin?

The woman suddenly looks like a coiled viper ready to strike. Corey jerks back involuntarily. NO! Not like Drezdin. Ellen LOVES Drezdin. He's a total gentleman in every sense of the word. I mean the rest of you goddamned DEVIANTS.

Hey, I'm not a deviant!

Your last promo featured a woman committing ritual seppuku with a chainsaw that turned her into a diarrhea geyser.

I stand by my work! Corey retorts. Though, not too close. I don't want to get any diarrhea on me.

The woman's clawed hand shoots out with supernatural speed, and she pinches Corey's nipple in between two red lacquered nails. Corey howls in protest.

I will twist it right the fuck off!

Okay, okay, I'm sorry! Corey pleads. Just let me keep the nipple!

The woman relents, pulling her hand back. Next time, it's the balls. She cautions, simmering with barely restrained rage.

Corey, rubbing his tenderized man-nipple, chances a question. Okay, I get it. But can I just ask one teensy tiny thing? If you're so worried about me, why have me on in the first place?

Because you're a sex symbol. Since you appeared in the XWF, Google analytics show that searches for your name in the 35-55 dumpy, sexually frustrated house frau demographic have exploded.

But I'm only 17!

So was Taylor Lautner, but you're both passably not jail bait to the point that these women can safely have filthy sex fantasies about you without feeling TOO guilty.

Corey looks decidedly uncomfortable with all this. I feel....icky.

Oh, a bloo bloo bloo! “I'm a sex symbol, oh woe is me!” She mocks, complete with exaggerated fainting gestures. Just get the fuck out there, smile so your dimples pop and talk to Ellen like a goddamn normal person! The woman shoves Corey out from his vantage point, and quite abruptly he is under the spotlights on stage at the ELLEN DEGENERES SHOW!

Corey is instantly assaulted by the frantic cheers of a studio full of thirsty middle aged white women. He gazes out at the masses of clapping screaming ladies, and despite having been in literal televised fights suddenly fears a great deal for his life. His mind desperately latching on to one of the last bits of advice he was given, like a blind man scrambling for his cane after it's been knocked over, Corey tries to simultaneously do a cute/sexy bite down on his bottom lip while forcing his dimples to appear somehow.



Thankfully, he is totally oblivious to how awkward that just looked, but so are all the women in the audience who are too busy engaging in “he's my son's age buuuut....” style mental gymnastics.

Corey's eyes dart all over the stage, until like a port in a raging storm, they settle on Ellen's benevolent face. Ellen is getting up out of her seat, holding her arms out for a hug. Corey goes to her, enveloping her before taking his own seat next to her. It takes a few moments longer for the jubilations of the crowd to die down, but die it does.

Welcome to the show, Corey. Ellen smiles warmly.

Corey, chancing one more look at the hungry masses, replies. It's a pleasure to be here.

So, for those of you who don't know, Corey here is one of the brightest new stars in XWF wrestling. Corey, tell us a little bit about what XWF is like.

Scarcely knowing where to begin, he decides to take the plunge. Well, every day is an adventure that's for da-

The producer, still hovering just off stage, shoots Corey a withering stare.

-darn tootin' sure!

And one of the things you're noted for is that you play this intriguing dual natured character. Like, there's YOU, there's just Corey, who seems to be this troubled but charismatic young man....

I wouldn't say I'm “TROUBLED-troubled” heh....

...and then there is this tough, takes no prisoners assassin woman from the future who also lives in your body. Like, WOW! Where do you come up with an idea like that?

Well, I grew up watching a lot of horror and science fiction, but I always thought the best movies and shows blended the two, like Event Horizon.....

Or Twilight?

The audience watches Corey expectantly. He swallows a rising tide of bile. Sure, why not!

And right now you're in the semi-final rounds of this big pay per view tournament, March Madness. Tell us about that.

Well, yeah, it's a pretty big deal because the winner can walk away with a briefcase that they can cash in to fight any champion at literally any time for their title. And the way I see it, with the people in the Final Four, it's a pretty exciting time because you could say that whoever wins this takes the reigns as the torchbearer for the company going forward, representing a whole new era of....

Yeah, yeah, yeah that's cool. Hey, who wants to see Corey SHIRTLESS?!

The screams from the crowd are deafening.

Wait...huh?



An image of Corey, nude torso exposed and flexing into a mirror appears on the screen behind Corey and Ellen. When Corey's attention is finally drawn to it, his face goes beat red and he slinks down in his chair, humiliated. Dude, what the hell?! That's from the changing room backstage!

Yeah, we're allowed to do that. It's in your contract.

That was my private time! He moans in response.

**SPLOOOOOOOOSH**

Just then, a sound like a floodgate opening is heard, cutting loose a torrent of water previously barely kept in check. What was that?!

Ellen pats Corey on the leg. Don't worry about it, it's just the audience getting a little excited. Take it as a compliment.

Corey continues to be mystified by the strange sound until he sees a squad of janitors with mops and buckets scatter into the audience. Many of the women seem to be in the throes of ecstasy, and the janitors set to work mopping up the, erm, “discharge” under their seats. Corey's face crinkles in disgust. OH GROSS! Looking plaintive, he turns to Ellen. I'm not sure I want to do this interview anymore, I'm really really not comfortable being objectified like this.

The host's expression instantly takes a turn for the apologetic. Oh gee whiz Corey, I'm sorry to make you uncomfortable. We'll edit all that out in post production.

Corey can't see the producer laughing uproariously just off stage. Blithely, he smiles at Ellen. You will?

I promise. Hey everyone, let's take a quick break and when we come back, Corey and I will do that bit where we laugh at adorable puppies who are falling asleep standing up. Ellen makes a neck slashing signal to the camera operators, who power down their cameras. In the audience, some of the soccer moms are being carted off the stage in stretchers, leaving a trail of “slime” in their wake.

Corey rises up in his seat a bit, looking a tad sheepish. I'm sorry Ellen, you caught me off guard with that shirtless footage of me and I kind of freaked. I hope you don't think I'm a wet blanket.

Ellen withdraws a cigar case from under her chair, along with a Zippo lighter monogrammed with the image of a naked woman with massive titties. Ellen pulls out a stogie, lights it, and takes a deep drag. She let the smoke out in a series of concentric “o” rings before replying. Nah, I don't think you're a wet blanket. Kind of a fuckin' pussy though.

The boy almost swallows his tongue in shock. Ms. Degeneres?!!

She smirks and looks at him, stogie hanging limply out of her mouth as she replies. What, you were expectin' somethin' else? Look kid, if you don't nut up the entertainment business is gonna eat you alive.

Looking aghast, Corey shoots Ellen a sidelong glance. I...I can't believe this. This is how you really are?!

**Belch** Believe it, bub. But you're still a pussy.

I'm not a pussy! I wrestle for the most brutal wrestling company in the world.

Heh. Ellen holds up a hand. Let me stop you right there. LUX wrestles for the most brutal entertainment company in the world. You're just the hype man. Seeing the surprised look on Corey's face, Ellen sets in. Oh word, you think I didn't know? That's not YOU out there kicking ass. It's HER. I never believed that lame cover story for a second.

Incredulously, Corey glowers at her. You are talking about things you know NOTHING about. Lux and I crafted that cover because there are people out there right now warning her enemies...

Spare me. Ellen takes another drag off the stogie. That cover story was YOUR idea. And let's be real about why you did it. You didn't do it to help Lux with her mission, you did it so you could preemptively surrender to the pressure of making Lux not real. You did it so you could hide from the attacks of people like Sarah, and Game Girl, and Dolly. So don't try to pretty it up on my watch.

Jesus, how much XWF do you see? Stunned, Corey works his jaw in frustration. So what would you have me do here, swami?

Ellen leans in, blowing out another puff of smoke to the side before speaking. Listen kid. You're in the entertainment business now, whether you like it or not. And being a part of the business means not giving a single solitary fuck about what people think of you. I realized this was years before you were born, but I came out as a lesbian on national television well before it was cool and accepted. I realized that lesson about not giving a fuck. And you know what? I got shit on for it. My show got cancelled and it took years for me to work my way back to this fucking chair. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.

But you're still not acting authentic.

You're right, I'm not. I'm on this daytime TV middle class minstrel show, talking about kittens and sucking up to no talent hack celebrities like it's going out of style. But I have my reasons. Namely cash. Because I decided I was going to get back at the mass media that hated on me for being a lesbian by making so much bank off their back it would make their heads spin round and puke pea soup. And you know what? That's exactly what I'm doing. Corey, I'm low key the richest person on the planet. Do you know how much I've made since I started this stupid talk show?

How much?

3 trillion dollars.

Corey scoffs. Yeah right.

You wanna talk to my accountant? I got five. Turns out there's a lot of money to be made pandering to boring white people. But my point is this. You don't need to do what I did. You can aspire to more than just money. I see a shred of decency in you. You're real people, Corey. A real person with real problems who just so happened to get stuck with a time traveling assassin in your brain. And yeah, sure, all that sounds crazy as shit and people might make fun of you for it. But you know what? FUCK 'EM. Fuck 'em dead in their dried out pasty coozes. You don't need to apologize for a goddamn thing. And that's the last lesson you have yet to learn. You talk trash like a champ and no one can touch you. You're funny, imaginative, and charismatic. You can sing. You're decent looking, for a boy. You overcame a terrible drug addiction to boot which gives you a hard earned credibility for millions of people who are struggling. And you're only 17. You got so much time ahead of you. You don't need to apologize for shit. Own it. Own Lux. Own your entire wonderfully insane life. Trust me, it might make things harder in the short term. It did for me. But in the end, you'll thank yourself for it. You'll thank yourself for being honest.

One of the stage hands calls out a 10 second warning that they're ready to begin tapping again. Ellen nods her assent at the stage hand and calls out STOGIE STOOGE! Another stage hand runs up to collect Ellen's half spent cigar and scampers off with it. Batting the smoke out of the air as they're counted down to camera's rolling she sits back in her chair and shoots Corey an unspoken look of “are you ready?” He smiles and nods in response.

Hey everybody, welcome back. Corey and I were just talking about who our favorite Care Bears are. Mine's Funshine Bear.

Mine's Cheer Bear. He says without missing a beat.

Anyway, it's that time in the show where we play one of my favorite games....WORD ASSOCIATION. Corey, I'm going to name an XWF superstar, and you give me a word or short phrase that pops into your head. Ready?

Oh, as ready as I'll ever be!

Let's start in HOT. Sarah Lacklan.

Ass-

Ellen shakes her head dourly. Corey stops and then leans in closely to her. I thought you said to be true to myself?

Yeah, on your time. This is still my show, bitch, so don't scare the Beckys.

They both lean back in their seats and Corey recovers deftly.

Ass....orted bad traits?

Peter Gilmour.

Ham.

Thaddeus Duke.

Bae! Corey holds his hands up like a heart.

Vinnie Lane.

Corey panics. RECEIPTS!

Game Girl.

Obsolete.

Ouch. Shane .

Poop. But also, legend.

Vita Valenteen.

Corey blushes. Cute.

The audience hoots.

Bearded War Pig.

Kinda...rapey.

Kid Kool.

OFF MEDS.

Robert Main.

Briefcase. Corey plays up the word with an air of malice.

Dolly Waters.

Corey looks like he's about to blurt out a response, but then stops himself. Actually, she deserves more than that. Can I have a few?

Ellen makes the universal gesture for “the floor is yours”. Corey looks right into one of the cameras, clears his throat, and takes the plunge.

You know Dolly, “psychoanalytic” has got to be the best poly-syllabic word I've ever been called. Thank you for that. Next time though, could you lose your friend “the human track mark?” Until I laid eyes on Luca, I didn't think it could be possible to catch the clap just by LOOKING at some one, but I'm starting to feel like maybe I need to make a detour to the free clinic.

Look Dolly, I'm sorry if you feel like I went too far with your new idol. But I was hoping that maybe if I dragged her down from on high hard enough, maybe the thump of her rapidly cooling corpse hitting the ground would wake you up a bit. Somehow, it's just made you buy in even harder.

I don't get it. I still don't. You need a neck brace for the whiplash you suffered when you ran her promo style down as “trite” while crowning her “the most entertaining thing” in the XWF? How's that square? You honestly think someone being an egomaniac is in any way shape or form innovative and ground breaking? There's a whole locker room full of them, Dolly. I can put a blindfold on you, spin you around a few times, send you in ANY direction and you are virtually guaranteed to pin the tail on the narcissistic butthole every single time.

So what is this really about? Hold up, I'm about to get my Doctor Phil on.

You told me yourself that you saw something in what Lux said to Cadryn about how you can't be a part time legend. In affect, you admitted that you saw your own flakiness as an issue that you needed to retify. And it sounds like you are. Dolly Waters is here to stay. I'm happy for you. Truly. I believe that the XWF is a better place with Dolly Waters in it. Your choice of friends aside, your wit, your circumstances, and your talent should make you a consistent main eventer. You've got the goods already, so why do you want to chain yourself to Sarah's sinking ship? And make no mistake, that b-word is the TITANIC. You wanna talk about boring? Just how long do you think it'll be before that “flawless, faultless, never makes a mistake, no real weaknesses” facade runs it's course? Huh? Because if wrestling fans love ANYTHING, it's someone who ALWAYS wins and shows NO signs of weakness at all.



So what's going on here, Dolly?

Psychoanalysis to 60%!

Now that you've committed to the XWF and committed yourself to making this run “the one”, are you perhaps feeling a little gun shy about doing it on your own? Hey, it's a lot of pressure. I understand. So you're hoping to catch a little bit of Sarah's shine to give you that added oompf to put you over the top. Give you a bit of the old character development spit and polish to make yourself more marketable, more bankable, and just plain old different than what came before? Hey, sure. There's nothing wrong with change. If it's the RIGHT kind of change. If it's the kind of change that doesn't compromise who and what you were before. And right now?

You're compromising.

Like the teen movie stereotype of the Ugly Duckling who wants to be the Swan, you're desperately trying to hitch your trailer to the Cool Kids (literal #COOLKIDS) wagon. But don't you think for a second that those people you're carrying Neiman Marcus bags for will ever, EVER forget that you did, in fact, come from a trailer. You think they don't sneer at you the moment your back is turned to grab them a Pumpkin Spice Latte? Come on. Heck, Sarah herself sees you as just another stepping stone to winning this tournament, having already “predicted” your loss as though your just another cluttering irrelevancy. You haven't even been able to bring yourself to do the same to her, settling for just being a “I win some, I lose some” Dolly like you're already giving up the ghost to Venal Supreme.

But you know what I always found interesting about those teen movie Ugly Duckling tropes? The duckling was never all that ugly. In fact, it was always some hot chick forced to wear dumpy clothes and nerd glasses. The Ugly Duckling NEVER needed the Swans.

You feel me, Dolly?

Having finished his soliloquy to Dolly, he looks up and around at the audience and camera operators. And they all seem annoyed as hell. Turning towards Ellen, he also sees her impatiently tapping her foot on the floor.

Oh...uhhhh....

Gee golly willickers Corey I said “a few words” not the first chapter of Humboldt's Gift! Now we're gonna have to cut our “Getting Cute Little Kids to Pronounce Onomatopoeia” segment in half!

BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Corey sheepishly looks back at the crowd. Sorry! Sorry.....I'll be going now.....

Corey, averting his gaze to the ground, makes his way off stage. But in so doing, almost bumps into the producer from earlier. Shocked back into the present, he bounces back and runs away from her before she can twist his testicles into oblivion.

Buckle up kids, because next time THE SHIT HITS THE FAN! If you've been jonesing for some of that hot, hot, science fiction action since the start of this promo series THE WAIT IS OVER. It may even have something to do with wrestling. Or it wont! Either way, prepare your anus!