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IAmHollywood · **01-23-2015, 08:37 PM**

We pick up the next morning, still in Philadelphia, where C.C. Hollywood and Joey Bagadonuts are back on Arch Street in Old City. The night before, the Philadelphia Flyers earned their win against the Pittsburgh Penguins after an overtime goal by Claude Giroux. Seems to be the local way to do things, fighting tooth and nail for your keep. Much like the "Broadstreet Bullies," Hollywood finds himself in a war with a rival. Not just any rival, but with a rival that will be more than a challenge to defeat. Simon Lyster, a monster who indulges down the rabbit hole of his own beliefs, is the most dangerous kind of man. He is someone who believes that his ideals are no longer just "another way" but the "only way." However, like C.C. said best...

"What you don't know will hurt you."

Hollywood gets up from where he was sleeping after his homecoming and then Joey comes wandering out of his own room, wide-eyed and confused, like he was just born.

"Where did I come from?"

A woman, in blue jeans and a Philadelphia Flyers t-shirt peeks from behind Joey, leaving out of his bedroom door and walking outside, more than likely never to cross paths again. Poor Joey, he finally gets lucky and then his luck literally runs out. A sort of shit grin is worn on Joey's face as he sees his front door shut, then looks over at C.C.

"Decent!"

"I couldn't even tell you her name. I went to Deliiah's after the game last night, when you came back home to rest up, and I just hit it off with some strange. Next thing you know, I see her leave the next morning and I have to pee really bad!"

Hollywood shudders at the thought of where that woman has been as Joey beelines to the bathroom. A smile comes across C.C.'s face as he just shakes his head.

"My boy."

Just as Joey is occupied in the bathroom, Hollywood thinks more about his pay per view debut at Turning Point against Simon Lyster. The words that Lyster say are just that to C.C. They are no more than words. Any elementary student will tell you that actions speak louder than words, but Hollywood has not been one to raise his voice. Simon has. The psychological battle is soothing if you really think about it. Calm, collected, C.C. is under "The Spine Twister's" skin. Next step is getting into the mind. It is clear that Simon is academically smarter than Hollywood, but Hollywood is more efficient in something that Simon isn't. That, in particular, is what is known as "street smarts."

"Turning Point is the most important day of your life. How does it feel to know that I am a part of it? Don't get distracted from me. I am the last man you want to lose track of. You'll get your wish sooner rather than later, Simon. After Turning Point, you'll be bested at your "specialty," you'll be lost among the embarrassment of having to give up, and then you can face other trend followers like 'The Iceman,' or whoever else with a dull gimmick that you feast your eyes on."

Still in the bathroom, Joey can be heard as he lets go, full stream, to relinquish urine that has been building in his bladder since the night before. Trying not to laugh, Hollywood looks over his shoulder and pauses from speaking.

"Personally, what escapes me is the idea that you automatically assume that you will have me locked and secured in 'The Paralyzer.' I took your kind words into consideration and figured that I would just be nice enough to tell you that you, Simon Lyster, will not even get the chance to perform your masterpiece in that ring on me. No matter what your weak, pathetic gimps warn, I just am not a home body. Plus, I kind of already have my plane ticket to Denver and my Jeep has been transported there upon my arrival. We shall dance and you shall fall."

Joey finally comes out from the bathroom with a broom in his hand, dancing with it and singing the words...

"Brothers and sisters, go across the river, don't look back once there, trust me and take care."

C.C. just about loses it and watches Joey dance with a broom back into his room. The man has rediscovered his youth after sex. It's just wild what that will do to a man. A loveable loser like Joey Bagadonuts got with a woman last night. Behind closed doors, Joey can still be heard in his own form of happiness, doing a bad Metallica impression.

"As she pleases the master...MASTER!"

Hollywood is just about to be in tears, but does his best to continue.

"Oh, I see your point about carrying a broom. No one does it better than Bagadonuts. Now in relation to your statistics, not that it matters, you can throw those right out the window. You made Duncan B. Deadly tap. I don't care the slightest. To me, that's like if I told you that I had the world's best coffee when Monday Night Madness came to Seattle. It's trivial. No one cares. I defeated TJ Wallace, someone who...just going on a limb, has more credibility than Duncan B. Deadly. But, I do agree with you so wholeheartedly about the idea of a title. I don't need one around my waist to know who is better than who."

In the moment of response, Hollywood thinks to a time in his life where it was feast or famine. At that time, much like the state of being a champion at any stage of life, a materialistic status featured to be no more than just a giant target on the chest or back of a man who wore the crown. To be the best at something, a status or title should not be given, it should just be an unwritten fact, a household concept, than a man is untouchable and the best at what he does. That is what makes Hollywood hell bent.

"There is a big difference between someone with a lot of hype who hasn't been there before and the real thing because there is a time to play and a time to win. I am Derek Jeter, I am Bill Russell, I am Wayne Gretzky, and I am Joe Montana because I am, like the band that plays my tune, 'Clutch.' People have sacrificed their entire lives to be in the position we are in, Simon. You are right, titles are just possessions. I'm not a possessions man, I am a talk the people into the room and lead by example man. See, this, Lyster, is where I talk them into the arena, because what is on the line as far as a title shot really doesn't mean shit to me. Possessions just make us a target, but see, I want you to target me. I'm gonna' fight like I want a title shot, then hell, maybe I'll just give you the title shot afterwards, I don't care."

Joey then comes out of his room, dressed with a bag packed, ready to leave out to the airport for their flight to Denver, Colorado from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Hollywood holds up a hand towards Joey, making him halt in the direction of which he is coming from. Joey stays where he is, dropping his bag by his side.

"Must I say, your poor attempt at blending in is proving to be your demise. As much as you want to stand out, you should realize how similar you in fact are to the rest. TJ Wallace, Jonathan Heartsford, Jill Lorder, Duncan B. Deadly, and Big Joe; all of which do the same exact thing that you do now and say that I can't hang with the world class technicians. Every single one of them failed. You say I will 'break like the rest,' but what you don't realize is that you will fail like the rest. I can have it all and will have it all. Much like how I enjoyed myself earlier in the week and let you just talk, you broke yourself. He who speaks first breaks first. To be fair, Lyster, you never needed to say much. Just replay the last episode and it's all the same. Statistic, vertebrae, gimp, 'please the master,' and 'break like the rest."

"Nailed it."

"Yet, it is what you perceive as incoherent responses that peeve you the most. Here, I figured that I would about you candidly without a puff of weed. Not any form of marijuana. You want to get a clearer concept of just who I am, then say no more. It's just simpler to ask and you will receive. I, too, am knowledgeable of 'The Art of War.' Sure, I'm not the Stephen Hawking red-headed stepchild, but I do have my degree as an English major at the University of Delaware before I went out of my way to train to be the best. Not a paper champion, but the best. So, allow me to repeat myself, even though it is a pet peeve of my own, after I have talked circles around yet another closed mind."

Joey shakes his head and sits down in the recliner seat across from where Hollywood is stationed.

"He will never understand the winter of oh-five."

"I'll learn 'em. Simon, this submission match is a means of survival, right? Good thing that I am a survivalist. All I ever had to do was man up when others have faltered. This...is no different. People who thought they were better have passed. They couldn't survive the cold. To be fair, it as a kind of Oregon Trail winter, but damn...I forget that you have no concept of anything except being a number cruncher who also studies the human body. I'll tell you something you ought to know. At your age, there are two hundred and six bones in the human body. Everyone knows that, so stay with me. So, riddle me this, Lyster...how do you paralyze after already being paralyzed? I plan on breaking every bone in your body if it means winning. I don't know much about anatomy, but I know about car crashes. Comparing 'The Paralyzer' to a car crash is a pretty prestigious statement. I'll take you up on that, with your end result being that of a car crash. Once your still body has nothing but coal eyes staring back at me blankly, you'll wish that you were able to even howl for help. Trust me, you'll need help."

It's quite the delight when one man can understand and depict the behavior of a monster. It was pretty simple to put this one together. Simon's father died after a tragic fall, disintegrating the C-4 vertebrae. Alone, this already gives us the exact reason as to why Simon Lyster is the entity that he is. Obsessive compulsive with the human body, needing to get off on domination of the human race, and to follow with the exact proportionate, but distinction that he needs to shatter spines. Simon is living vicariously as if his own father was able to see his work today through coincidence of his death.

"Like the death of your father restarting your life, your career-ending moment when your hand repeatedly taps the canvas and you exclaim that you quit will jump start me. It'll feel good."

"You'll feel alive."

"I will. Simon, have you considered the pressure that you put upon yourself. You don't have to bang on the mat, you just have to tap. That's all anyone will need to know for you to disappear. A fool that you are, perfecting one move in your arsenal. I'll have you by the neck and we'll pivot on the mat. Once over, snap. Second time, break. Third time, hospital. Forth time, morgue. Then fifth time, obituary. You need this more than me, Simon."

Hollywood exits the room and proceeds to pack a bag en route to Denver for Turning Point. The flight is waiting and time is money. This time, your money says "in Hollywood we trust."

-fin-

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