MEANWHILE IN THE 1970s

Quote:Jakey boy,

As a booker, I need to think about the future.

We're moving into a whole new media!

Wrestling! On the RADIO!

I need wrestlers that don't just wrestle, but can string two words together without tripping over them!

Right now, you could get a thousand tries at a promo and not get one out smooth!

Until you figure out how to speak good, I can't putcha no higher on the card.

Yours Truly,
"The General" Harlan Sanderson
President of the ITIWA

Two hands crumple the letter dejectedly…

A dirty-blonde-haired grappler in his trademark silver jumpsuit humbly kicks a can of Tab Soda down the hallway.

“D-...dagnab… nabbit.” He says, as the camera follows him down the hallway. He shoves the letter into the pocket of his tights, as eh pushes open a door into the ITIWA locker room…

What is the ITIWA?, you ask? Why, it’s the Intra-Territorial Isolated Wrestling Alliance!

The greatest wrestling organization from Mile Marker 6 on I-65…

All the way to Mile Marker 53 on I-65!

Yet, despite being a member of the peak of the sport of wrestling in 1972…

This 19-year-old young man looks morose.

Discomposed.

And acting so wooden, if his legs weren’t moving…

You’d think he was comatose.

The young wrestler steps across the room, approaching…



ITIWA superstar slash Mad Scientist, Doctor Nikola Smacksya!

Smacksya rapidly twists a socket wrench on his latest mechanical doodad… Muttering furiously as he works…

“…The disrespect… THESE SOFT CHILDREN… And their cellular phones…”

“H-hey, Mist-... er, Doctor Nichola… er, Nikola, si-... uh, Doctor, sir… er, uh… Mist-... Doctor, uh… Tes-... er, Smacksya.”

…

“Er, Sir.”

The nervous wreck of a wrestler trips and course-corrects over every single slight misstep of a word, until his simple message of greeting is absolute gobbledygook.

The doctor-wrestler looks up at the sputtering mess before him… With an exhausted sigh.

“Jacob.” He mutters, doing the bare minimum to acknowledge the poor dork’s existence, before returning to tightening the screws on his doodad…

‘Cavortin’ Jake Borden tries to smile confidently…

Unfortunately, due to the apparent nervous tension in his face, the smile comes off more as a queasy wince.

“Jacob’s my dad’s… Er, I mean, my dad call-...refers, er… WhatImeanIs… Y-you can c-... Er, uh, feel fre-... What I… er… My buddies ca-er… Friends can… er, call me… Jake.”

…

“Doctor.”

Suddenly, the Doctor hurls down his socket wrench furiously!

“DAMN THEIR IMPERTINENCE! THEIR HUBRIS!”

Borden blushes.

“Er, sor- uh… my ba-... er, apopolex-... I mean, apologies, D-”

“JACOB!” The Doctor spins on this interloper, snatching the wrench back off the ground… Wielding it menacingly toward this doofy goofy boy!

“Do you have ANY IDEA what they’re saying about us in the future?!?”

…

“...Uh…” Borden stands there, dumbfounded.

Though, this time dumbfounded by a curious statement made by his coworker.

And not the act of putting two words together, as he typically is.

“D-...D’ya mean… What they… uh… will say about u-... er, you and I? …People in the fut-... er, Future people, Imean?”

“What they ARE saying, Jacob! THEY’RE SAYING IT NOW! RIGHT NOW! IN THE FUTURE!” The Doctor seethes furiously, spittle flying off his chin, as he maniacally twists gears into place.

…

“...Uh… w-wut?”

…

The Doctor sighs, dejectedly, letting the socket wrench drift down by his side…

“I remember like it was yesterday.”

…

“Even though it was FIFTY YEARS IN THE FUTURE!”

---

MEANWHILE… IN 2022

Quote:”I had *just* successfully invented time travel! My purpose? A peek into the distant future! If I could glimpse into the techniques of the sport after FIVE DECADES OF PROGRESS, I knew I could RULE THE Intra-Territorial Isolated Wrestling Alliance WITH AN IRON FIST! I would RULE the wrestling world!

…

That exists between Mile Marker 6 on I-65 and Mile Marker 53 on I-65!”

The Doctor carefully weaves his way through a crowd…

Quote:”My disguise was SEAMLESS! Without seam, I say! I blended like a chameleon into that marvelous glimpse of utopia!”

Wearing a pair of sunglasses…

And a t-shirt that reads “I LOVE 2022!”

The Doctor sidesteps carefully through the crowd, glancing up, taking in the packed arena… Every seat in the house full.

As he does, you see the back of his shirt, which reads…

“2022, OF COURSE, BEING THE CURRENT YEAR!”

Quote:”I naturally let my mind drift, full of wonder at the magnificent sights I was seeing! Tens of thousands of diehard fans of our sport! Much more than forty-seven, the current ITIWA attendance record! And on a MONDAY, Jacob! Still, for the sake of the timeline, despite my excitement, I had to maintain the character of one who was not shocked by these incredible futuristic portents!”

“Hey pal! DOWN IN FRONT!”

The Doctor turns around, befuddledly waving.

“MY APOLOGIES, FELLOW RESIDENT OF THE FUT-... PRESENT!”

Quote:”My performance was flawless!”

The Doctor quickly sits down in his front-row seat.

“POPCORN!” A snack vendor rolls his cart past, waving a bag over his head! “GETCHA POPCORN!”

“Ah, Pop-ped corn! A classic treat, indeed!” The scientist marvels proudly at the familiar snack. “Clearly, some things in my time are meant to last!”

The Doctor waves his arm over his head!

“ONE POP-PED CORN, PLEASE!”

The vendor, with the dexterity of a shinobi, fills a bucket full of popcorn and frisbees it through the air…

Flawlessly landing 64 ounces of delicious buttery goodness lands in his lap!

…Although the Doctor looks down at the bucket in confusion!

“Excuse me, sir! I ordered but a single portion! This is enough popped-corn to feed *several* families!”

…But, the concessions guy has already moved on.

The Doctor shrugs, before popping a kernel in his mouth.

Quote:”The concessions were plentiful! The audience displaying a fiery passion! Truly, it was a wrestling paradise!”

…

”Until… I saw a PROMO! From one of these future men!”

On the X-Tron, a face appears…

A mangy, angry little goblin man.

Face covered in beard!

Waaaaaay too close to the camera.

Quote:”Oh , the venom! THE POISON TO MY EARS!”

Mark Flynn, the current XWF Universal champion…

Cuts a promo, with the giant, silver belt on his shoulder…

As he speaks, the Doctor’s visage goes from one of delighted wonder, to one of unbridled, limitless FURY…

Quote:“This URCHIN! This CONTEMPTIBLE WRETCH… referred to his predecessors… his precursors… HIS VERY FOREFATHERS UPON WHOSE SHOULDERS HE STANDS…”

“Referred to us ‘past wrestlers’...”

“As PLUMBERS AND PART-TIMERS!”

The Doctor, seething with righteous anger, starts to climb over the railing, to find and attack this video man!

But Tommy Gunn and XWF security personnel quickly grab him by his arms and start dragging up the tunnel to toss him out!

Quote:“As if a past wrestler showing up to today would be like showing up to a tech conference with a GATEWAY COMPUTER!!!”

---

“Wh-...er, what’s a… G-gateway comp-computer?” Jake stammers out, perplexedly.

…The Doctor scratches his head.

“I have no clue. But it pissed me RIGHT THE HELL OFF!” The Doctor SLAMS his wrench against the locker, which echoes metallically!

“He even accused GEORGE MIKAN! THE George Mikan! Most Valuable Player on the World Champion Minneapolis Lakers! Of not being fit to even LACE HIS SHOES in the future!”

”Could you imagine a world where being born SIX FOOT SEVEN doesn’t entitle you to an ATHLETE’S CAREER?!?”
…

“H-...er, how was the… wrass-... er, wrasslin’? Cuz you w-... er, that’s wha-...I mean, did you see fut-... er, good wrasslin’?” Jake finally sputters out.

The Doctor fumes. ”I didn’t see one move! AND I’M GLAD I DIDN’T, JACOB.” The Doctor resumes rapidly wrenching away at his apparatus. “I’m sure those soft, mewling kittens of the 21st century have done NOTHING to improve our sport! Wrestling in the 1970s is in its SCIENTIFIC PEAK! AND THERE IS NOTHING NEW TO DISCOVER!”

Suddenly, a young man in a green singlet runs in!

“Fellas, fellas, ya gotta harry ‘n see dis!”

“Er, wh-... er-what is… Imean…”

“WHAT IS IT, PATRICK O’PATRICK?” The Doctor spits furiously, cutting off Jake’s verbal constipation.

“It’s me brother Sheamus! He jist invented a new maneuver! By which one competitor may propel… or WHIP… anudder from one side o’ de ring to the udder against de ropes!”

“MY WORD!” The Doctor marvels, genuinely impressed.

“It’s gonna change de whole sport, it is! We’re gonna name it after our homeland!”

“Ah, so you mean to call it…”

“THE CINCINNATI WHIP!” Patrick beams with pride, as he rushes back into the hallway to tell the rest of the roster about this revolutionary new move!

“There! You see, Jacob!” The Doctor opens his hand, gesturing toward the quickly vacating Irishman Ohioan. ”What could be more innovative than that! Clearly, we have NOTHING to learn from these future SCUM.”

Despite this, the Doctor continues to wrench away at his device.

…Jake scratches his head.

“So, uh… what are y-... er, what’s that yo-... uh… Whatcha wor-... er, doing?”

The Doctor looks up at Jake… Oh, this?” He smiles, setting his wrench against the metal shell of the apparatus he’s been working on this entire conversation. “I plan to return to the future and PROVE OUR SUPERIORITY TO THEM! BY BUILDING A RACE OF ATOMICLY-POWERED SUPERWRESTLERS AND SENDING THEM BACK INTO THE FUTURE!”

The Doctor opens his locker behind him…

Revealing a spinning vortex… A wormhole! A portal into the future!

“Let those fools of the future look upon our works and DESPAIR! IF WE CANNOT BE CELEBRATED IN THE FUTURE, WE SHALL DESTROY IT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

The Doctor cackles maniacally and defiantly!

…

“Ne-...er, cool.” Jake nods.

“Indeed.” The Doctor nods, suddenly calm, before resuming his work, wrenching away.

…Leaving his locker room door open.

…Leaving the portal to… Time Travel in view…

Jake slowly uncrumples the paper in his pocket… His brow scrunches thoughtfully.

“...A th-thousand tries at tal-…er… a promo.”

“Science CHRIST, you’re still here, Jacob?!?” The Doctor spits, as he shoves his wrench into his pocket. “WHADDYA WANT, ALREADY!”

…

“Er… D-doc. You sa-... er, mentioned that you had… er, Imean, you’d invented a time trav-...er, portal to tim-the future?”

“What *I* said that I’d successfully invented time travel. Not the absolute GIBBERISH that spills from your slipshod GOB.”

…Jake scratches his head.

“So, you can g-... er, Imean, you could g-... er, return to the past and… mayb-... er, possibly… redo a promo unle-...er, until you get it righ-... er, correct… right?”

This time, the Doctor scratches his head…

…When he suddenly snaps his fingers!

“AHA! WAIT! I get your meaning, young Jacob!”

The Doctor stands and ruffles the young teenager’s hair playfully.

“I understand completely and thoroughly! You’re querying if I could use my time travel technology to allow you multiple chances, that even a mouth as stupid as yours could cut an ELECTRIFYING promo?”

Jake opens his mouth to speak…

Before nodding his head up-and-down excitedly.

The Doctor smiles ear-to-ear. “Yes! I could do exactly that!”

Borden’s eyes spark with hope! His eyes dew and his face relaxes as he is gripped with an inner calm for the first time in his l-

“BUT!” The Doctor sticks a finger in the air “I WON’T!”

…

“Wh-what? For wh-... er, I mean… why?”

The Doctor scoffs dismissively. “The ability to traverse time is not a TOY, JACOB! I’m not going to risk the sanctity of the spacetime continuum because your tongue has two left feet!”

The Doctor proudly pats the side of his locker, staring into the timestream…

“This technology must handled with the lightest touch! With the utmost care and consideration for the potential impacts of every single use! Even a single thoughtless act co-”

GRRRRRRRRRRRUMBLE!

The Doctor’s hand covers his rumbling tummy.

“Oof, science works up an appetite.” The Doctor rubs his stomach hungrily. “Excuse me, Jacob.”

The Doctor reaches for the side of the locker and twists a knob…

The world on the otherside of the portal rapidly shifts and changes…

Until the Doctor stops twisting when the dial reads…

Quote:TWENTY-SIX MINUTES IN THE PAST

The Doctor then stuffs his head into the portal in his locker.

“Quickie’s Pizza? It’s DOCTOR Nikola Smacksya…” The Doctor’s voice echoes from inside the time pocket… “One pepperoni pie to be delivered to the usual place in PRECISELY twenty-six minutes.”

DINGDONG

((Yes, the ITAWA wrestling gym has a doorbell system)).

“No, thank YOU.” The Doctor pulls his head out of the time portal. He gently steps over a cable sticking out of his invention, before walking out to the front, with zero regard for the young man he just monologued at.

…

Jake stares at the time portal….

…

His hand reaches out…

And twists the dial to…

Quote:FIFTY-TWO MINUTES IN THE PAST

…

Jake takes a deep breath, walking forward toward the time portal..

”Wa-... er, Look out, world! Cuz Borden’s gonna be c… Er, I’ll… No, Cavortin’s wha-... ERRRR!”

Jake stomps his foot, frustrated at his clumsy ton-

WHOOPS! Borden trips over the cable!

His hand smacks the dial… It goes from ‘fifty minutes in the past’ to…

Quote:FIFTY-TWO YEARS IN THE FUTURE

WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

---

…

Quietly, that dirty-blonde-haired young man steps out of a locker curiously…

“Where a-...er, I mean, *when* am I?”

“HEY!”

Borden spins around!

…

And who’s standing in the doorway…

BUT XWF OWNER LOVERBOY VINNIE LANE!

…

Vinnie looks the young timetraveler up-and-down.

…

“Nice jacket.”

Vinnie looks Jake’s silver jumpsuit up and down approvingly.

“You want a job?” Vinnie inquires, pulling out one of his many pre-filled XWF contracts.

---