Disclaimer: The Afterthought is a registered trademark of the SW Corp. Any use without express written consent is forbidden and subject to the full extent of the law. It’s not like there is anything you’d want to rebroadcast with this anyway. Just keep it off of YouTube and we will be cool. And as always the show is filmed before a live studio audience.

Cheery upbeat music is heard, as the camera pans over the room. A light smattering of applause fills the room and drowns out the music. Then the stage lights begin to swirl around the red drapes. The lights focus as Fuzz steps out holding a boom box playing the music. He sets it down, stops the music. Fuzz pulls a mic out from his crushed velvet suit.

“Well would you just look at that…. Do we all know what time it is? No? Well it’s time for your favorite late night talk show…. The Afterthought!”

The ‘Applause’ sign lights up, as the crowd begins to cheer.

“Hello there ladies and gents. I’m just as surprised as you are that I actually got a second episode of this show. Apparently the ratings were through the roof, and the powers that try and hold me down just couldn’t. You all watched and got me to Episode two. Just a few more and I’m in line for syndication. Wouldn’t that be something.”

Fuzz grabs a glass from the chair next to him and takes a drink. He clears his throat.

“I’m not too happy today, and that’s ok. Now that I have a proper outlet to get all these feelings out I’m going to be just fine.”

The crowd boos and Fuzz raises his hands to calm them down.

“I know that over the years and recent weeks I have said some hurtful things about some people, and for that I do not apologize. Ever since I came back people have been poking and prodding me. Trying to get the old me to come back out.”

The crowd is mixed with both cheers and boos. Some people want the old Fuzz back, while others want the new one to stay.

“People have called me sadistic. Evil. Conniving. Stupid. Yet what none of them have called me is a liar. They know that no matter how much fire and vitriol comes out of my mouth, it’s all based on facts. So with all that in mind. Allow me to drop a few truth bombs on Masterbater…. in mean Mind.”

Fuzz points to the wall next to him where the is nothing but a large TV projecting the Shows graphic. Fuzz pushes a button on the TV and nothing happens.

“Wait… where are all my pretty graphics?....”

An assistant comes running out from the back. He begins to whisper into Fuzz’s. Fuzz drops his head and then turns to the audience.

“What do you mean we can’t afford them? They are the same ones he used…. they are stock images. Anyone with half a brain could use them, and you’re telling me we can’t afford FREE?”

The assistant is still standing there when Fuzz shoots him away. Then turns his attention to the audience.

“Fine I guess we will go without the graphics package I set up. Allow me to be the first one to tell you… it was going to be great. Since I can’t do that I can only attempt to get my point across like some fucking savage.”

Fuz begins to pace across the stage. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. He takes a deep drag of it and exhales.

“You, Megamind, are on record stating that I came back to mix it up with the new breed, and that I found out I couldn’t? That’s really funny because the last time I checked I’m still standing here. I’m not running and hiding. I was just in the main event of a major event here, and where were you? That’s right…. down the card. That’s cool. Yet saying that you are lower on the card they me, while technically true, doesn’t help me at all. Why? Simply put, because for some reason we are going against each other and now we are on equal ground.”

Fuzz just shrugs his shoulders and begins to pantomime towards the crowd.

“Well I wouldn’t say equal, more like I’m slumming it. Sometimes I have to remind myself what it’s like to be lower on the card. I know it’s your natural habitat, and that really puts me at a severe disadvantage. You are so accustomed to flinging shit with the other shit people that you have become their king. You are the king of the shit people. There I knew somewhere in this diatribe that I could compliment you. It’s just too bad that you have decided to stay there. Oh well, win some, lose more.”

Fuzz takes another drag off of the cigarette, as ashes cascade towards the floor.

“You said that you forced me to respond to you? Are you hearing yourself? Are the voices in your head running things again?”

Fuzz puts his hand up to his head and does the universal sign for crazy.

“I know what it’s like to have the voices tell me things. I’ve been there. The real challenge is not allowing them to actually run the show. You seriously think you’re in my mind? Listen here Minesweeper, if you can figure out what’s going on please tell me so I can properly adjust my meds….”

Fuzz tweaks his head to the side and winces in pain. Then takes the cigarette and drops it to the floor. Stomping it out with his shoe.

“Who are we kidding I’m not on any meds. That’s the problem with people these days. Can’t take a single fucking joke. Everyone is so concerned with PC culture that they all forget about what really matters.”

Fuzz holds his hands out.

“Me!”

The crowd pops for a moment, and then quiets down again.

“That’s why I’m actually flattered that you stole my entire idea, made one tiny adjustment and called it a day right? That seems to be your MO. Take someone else’s idea and claim it’s your own. Well allow me to take your little ‘game’ and all of your obvious cheap shots at myself and see if you are indeed Fake News.”

Fuzz air quotes the last two words and give the audience a quick wink and a nod.

“You started off with a bunch of masters, but all I saw were things created from figments of imagination, and you. Someone who’s whole premise is based solely on the fact they allow themselves to believe that they are indeed better than others because of a broken wire in their head. You think you are a Mastermind? Have you not noticed this entire time your are basically talking about yourself? Fine let’s continue on shall we, I’m sure you are going to come up with just some great stuff…. Or was it someone else’s and you are claiming that it’s not stol...sorry parody.”

He holds his hand towards his chest gesturing ‘My Bad’, and then waves it off.

“I must congratulate you on your upcoming 100th match. It’s really a testament to your longevity. That still doesn’t negate the fact that you still haven’t done anything. Having that many matches only proves that you can continually collect a paycheck. You have been here for a really long time huh? You don’t say? Go online check the history, you think 100 is a good number? Ok then I must be fucking awesome. I did that almost 15 years ago. In two and a half years. Yet it still took you how long to get there? Ok. Congrats anyway, it’s an honor not earned by being good, just dumb enough to not realize you’re pissing in the wind.”

Fuzz mimes pissing on the ground, and then a small fan is seen blowing towards him. Fuzz fakes getting angry and then shrugs it off.

“ Oh Shit still talking about himself? I must have really had him on the ropes. He’s so concerned with what I have said about him that he’s barely mentioned me. I’m upset. Yet you still somehow missed the point. I don’t care that you have flipped everything around. Good for you. You had to take time off, improve, and get better. All that needs to be said about that, is maybe you don’t deserve to be here now. You weren’t good enough then, and some time off doesn’t make you better by chance. The real chance in all of this is the fact that you even think the numbers bear true. The bottom line…. still under 50%. There’s a lot of people who would be considered great at your ratio. Professional baseball players, weathermen, pornos where the woman actually can act, but a wrestler unfortunately isn’t one of them.”

The audience applause sign is lit up, and the crowd obliges.

“You see I called you boring, and you said how was that original? When it’s the truth it doesn’t need to be original. I don’t need all of the fancy graphics to prove that point. All I need is a working mic, and I can captivate anyone. You on the other hand are nothing more than a less original Sarah. At least she doesn’t get her images from the first page of Google search.”

Fuzz pulls his phone out and quickly Googles the catch phrase, and there are all the pictures. Fuzz shows his phone to the crowd to verify.

“Speaking of Sarah, you couldn’t help but bring her up. Nice segway for myself. Also The Hardest Worker Noah, and John Whyte. I can’t say I’m surprised you put in with those people. Sarah is the Queen of the XWF. Noah is leagues above you. And John well it seems he has a penchant for getting under people’s skin. Then Me. Awesome. You compared me to nothing but winners. You couldn’t draw a parallel between myself and anyone who isn’t as successful? Ok I’ll take that for the win.”

Fuzz pats himself on the back, and nods his head approvingly.

“Oh tongue twisters. I love these. Again stealing from others. Well to answer the one that is directed towards the group of four. We can and will always talk all the shit we can and will as we please. You think it’s a bad thing to be able to talk. Would you prefer silence? Fine but I’ll tell you something about that it gets deafening. You think you’re ok, and then you realize that you are nothing. The only thing that keeps up separated from the animals is language, and you’d prefer that we not talk? Fine. That doesn’t mean I can’t do any spoken word to finish this monologue off.”

Fuzz snaps his fingers. The lights all go down. A single spotlight is shone on Fuzz. He is no longer in his suit but now in a black turtleneck. He has hastily drawn on a fake mustache. To top the ensemble off he is wearing a black beret and some round rimmed glasses. Fuzz then begins to snap melodically.

“At first he seemed confident and full of hubris,
But he was a scared little boy, fully clueless.
He spoke of people with ill intentions,
He was blind, broken, and full of questions.
I’ll answer them all one by one,
You can’t beat me, bitch your done.
You claim to be better, balls you should grow some.
Hide and seek champion, here I come.
I’ll allow you to make it to 100 without a permit,
You won’t be disabled, and won’t be no obit.
This is the killing blow, Crit, Crit, Crit.
Just remember, I’m an exceptional piece of Shit.”

Fuzz takes a quick bow and tosses the beret into the audience.

“Thank you, Thank You.”

Fuzz then walks over to the desk and sits down. He begins to wipe the fake mustache off of his face with a rag. He fixes his hair and grabs the note cards on the desk.

“And now you all heard about him earlier tonight, my first guest…. The Best thing from the land down under since Men and Work…. Noah Jacks…. Seriously again? Come on guys we are better than this. We need to get some actual guests on here or else we will never make it to prime time. “

Fuzz then tosses the cards towards the audience and shrugs.

“Oh well there’s always next time…”

The audience begins to applaud once the light is illuminated, as the screen fades to black.