SATURDAY, JULY 22ND, 4:52 AM

The sound of drilling!

Hammering!

Nailing!

Overwhelming, catastrophic toolery tomfoolery is afoot!

”...*ahem* Hello, Mister Flynn.”

The caterwauling continues unabated.

”I just wanted to check-in and see how you’re doing on your project to… and I repeat… FORCE people to change their minds about you.”

…

Harsh, jarring dissonance.

The sounds that a midnight construction site would call its local government to complain about.

”Actually, now that we’re on that subject… I was wondering if we’d… *really* considered the full impact that… brainwashing the planet into liking you… could potentially have on your still-burgeoning ‘good guy’ brand.”

Suddenly, the sound stops.

….

…..

Irwin sucks in air. His tongue freezes so hard, his saliva drops in temperature.

He holds his breath with all his might.

…

…

The deafening clanging resumes.

…

”See, Mister Flynn… of course, I comprehend the… SHORT-TERM gains that your plan would result in. For instance, everyone would finally agree that you’re a good guy.”

“Because, you’d have brainwashed them into thinking that you’re a good guy.”

…

”And, in a vacuum, it might seem like your plan has no flaws.”

…

*cough*.

”Which, of course it doesn’t. To insinuate otherwise would be ridiculous. It’s a classic, brilliant Mark Flynn plan. Draw a straight line from point A to point B. People don’t like you? Why play these theatrical games of fake-or-real heroism when you can directly MOLD their MINDS into liking you? Inspired! Genius!”

…

”However… one might consider it prudent to consider the… long-term implications of your plan.”

…

”See, Mister Flynn, suppose there was a brief outage in your… brain-washing method. Or perhaps, some misguided hero arrived at your storage facility for this device and destroyed it! Foolishly!”

…

”Obviously, I don’t need to point out to you the possible ramifications of people falling out of a well-intended mental manipulation. We already have difficulties with your brand being associated with villainy… I don’t think we could ever recover if people believed you were a hypnotist.”

“Ha. Ha.”

…

”*ahem*”

”I suppose what I’m getting at, Mister Flynn, is this. I understand you loathe criticism. Or disapproval. Or even unenthusiastic commentary of your… schemes.”

”But… you may recall recently? When we had to save those children from… having their heads exploded? And I was, let’s say, vehemently opposed to my role of being the one actually disarming the explosives? With approximately 22 minutes of Internet training under my belt?”

“And you, Mister Flynn. You reminded me that, while we might not actually be anyone’s first choice to solve that ‘child-danger’ problem… We were the only people in position to solve it. And that made us the best people to solve it.”

“And… And by that reasoning… your reasoning! That makes me the best person to stop you from… hypnotizing the planet into unconditionally loving everything you do.”

“Even though I have fragile bones…”

“I get vertigo walking backwards and forwards…”

“I need SPF 15 sunscreen indoors…”

“I get stage fright when I see pictures of crowds in textbooks…”

“And I’m… THOROUGHLY terrified of you. Not just of you, but also of you disliking me… Because you’re my favorite wrestler AS WELL AS my greatest, personal fear.”

…

“But… sir, if I don’t step up now and say something, no one else will! Just like you said when you saved those children from Micheal Graves! If we didn’t save those kids, no one else would have!”

“And I hope you can respect me by combating my fears to bring these concerns directly to your attention! Before you warp millions of minds… or, even worse, IRREVERSIBLY DAMAGE YOUR BRAND!”

“I endlessly and all-encompassingly respect, love, fear and am in awe-slash-terror of you, sir. But, I felt I needed to say something… Immediately! Before it’s too late!”

…

“*ahem* Anyway, I hope this message-slash-plea-for-sanity finds you well.” Irwin reads, typing at his laptop, with Flynn safely doing all his hammering and thundering safely in the other room. “And I look forward to aiding you in a different…”

…

Irwin deletes the word ‘different’.

“NEW, innovative plan to further your long-term success! Sincerely, your number one fan, Irwin.”

…Irwin nods, quickly scanning his email for typos.

…None! Irwin kisses his fingertips like a master chef.

“Perfectly written.” Irwin drags his mouse over the ‘send’ button. “Now, that only leaves the acting of sending it.”

…

……

…

His finger hovers over the left-click of the mouse…

…

At the sheer thought of even potential confrontation, Irwin begins to fold like an undercooked pancake on its side…

Spine shivering, drenched in flop sweat…

…

Irwin glances at his wrist.

“My oh my, would you look at the time! I’ve let it get sooooo late!” He says aloud to no one.

There’s no watch on his wrist.

“I can’t send Mister Flynn an email like this outside of work hours! How rude!”

Irwin shakes his head, fabricating this improvisational office etiquette stageplay to an audience of none.

“I’ll have to schedule it for… *cough* tomorrow.”

…

Irwin’s finger still shakes.

“Actually, who likes reading emails so close to the weekend!” Irwin wheezes. “Let’s… let’s schedule it for Monday!”

…

“At 9:15.”

Finally, Irwin’s finger seems to relax.

Irwin clicks his mouse. Then, quickly flips tabs to notify Flynn he’ll be taking Monday off… for personal reas-

“IRWIN!” Flynn’s workdoor swings open, wielding a jackhammer!

“AHHHHHHHH! I NEVER SENT YOU AN EMAIL, SIR! I w-w-... I WAS HACKED! THE PRINCE OF NIGERIA DEMANDED I PAY SIX MILLION DOLLARS OR HE’D SEND IT!” Irwin covers his face, anticipating a walloping… or even worse, verbal cruelty!

…Flynn’s brow contorts inward in confusion. He sets down the jackhammer…

…As he removes a pair of hearing protecting headphones from his ears.

”Hang on, Ir-dawg.” Flynn runs his pinky around his inner ear, squinting as he does. ”There we go.” Flynn sniffs. ”Now, what were you saying?”

”Nothing!” Irwin immediately shoots back, hairs standing on the back of his neck.

…

Flynn shrugs.

”Alright.”

…

Flynn turns around to go back inside his workshop. Irwin breathes a sigh of relief.

”OH, THAT’S RIGHT!” Flynn snaps his fingers.

Irwin immediately hits the floor in the fetal position!

Flynn ignores this, standing over Irwin and picking his henchman up by the scruff of his neck.

”OH GOD!” Irwin squeals. His body alternates between trying to soil itself, playing dead and feigning a heart attack… All the different ways members of the rodentia family try to make predators feel sorry for them.

”Irmano.” Flynn clears his throat, looking Irwin in the eye.

…

”Uh… Sorry about the noise.”

…

”...Pardon?”

Flynn checks his watch. ”It’s 4AM. That’s when I get my best drilling done… But, I imagine the noise might be… a little much, right?”

…

Irwin pssshes heartily. ”Whaaaaaaat? Noooooooo.” Irwin says, refusing to bring up the fact that he hasn’t been able to sleep for three days. ”I don’t mind it at all! Sir, if anything, I wish it was louder!”

…

Flynn’s brow twists confused.

”...You want it… Louder?”

Oh no.

”Oh, yes!”

…Flynn scratches his head.

”...Look, my tools aren’t instruments, Earwig. I can’t just plug a jackhammer into an amp and make it louder…”

…

Flynn rubs his chin, looking up thoughtfully.

”...Well, actually, maybe I could. Just a quick adapter port on my jackhammer, some minor electrical circuitry. If you really want, I *could* make it louder?”

Please don’t.

”Please do!”

…

Flynn shrugs, dispassionately.

”Alright.”

…

Flynn turns around, re-entering his work area.

…The very moment that the door closes behind Flynn…

Irwin falls on his hands and knees.

”You small coward. You absolute cretin.” The small pasty nerd shouts at himself.

He ineffectually winds up his fists to slam them on the ground!

…

Before he remembers his forearms bruise easily…

…

With a sneer, he bends hisc middle finger against his thumb… And flicks the ground!

…Ooh, his nail chips.

Irwin blows on the end of his finger, seizing in pain! He shakes his head!

”Just say it! Just March in there and tell him, for his own good…. Mark Flynn, you are a POWERHUNGRY MANIAC AN-”

Suddenly, the door swings back open! “IRWIN!”

Irwin chokes on his spit, reeling back his neck in fear! He coughs his airway open, only so he can immediately beg for mercy!

“Mister Flynn! I-I-I was just… writing the first verse of a musical of your rise to the top!” Irwin begin snapping out of rhythm. “Mark Flynnnn, you’re a… *cough* powerFUL… maaaaaan.”

“Hang on.” Flynn turns his head toward Irwin, revealing a phone pressed to his chest.

“Ir-nesto, could you hold off your… musical endeavors? I’m on the phone.”

Irwin shuts up so fast, so hard.

Flynn sticks up a thumb, before turning back to the phone.

“Much better. Talk to me, Nedidiah.”

…

“Yeah huh.”

…

“Yeah huh.”

…

Flynn spins and looks back toward his work area.

“…Sure, sure. I’m just… in the middle of something.”

…

Flynn rests a forearm against the doorway.

“No, yeah. Yep, yep, yep.”

…

Flynn sneers, irritatedly.

“No, of COURSE, I WANT to.”

…

Flynn nods his head indignantly!

“YEAH. I’ve been LOOKING FORWARD TO IT, IN FACT.”

…

…Flynn clears his throat.

“…No, okay, wrong choice of words… I’m… somberly eager… to get this over with.”

…

Flynn exhales.

“GOD, WHATEVER, I’LL BE THERE.”

Flynn hangs up.

…

Flynn wraps his head in his hands.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.”

…

“Irwin, C’mere.” Flynn snaps his fingers twice. “Need your thoughts.”

Irwin takes this as permission to make noise once more. He bows at the neck.

“Absolutely, sir. Is it about your mind control operation? Because I had some… potential concerns. Point on-”

“What? No, not that. Something else.”

…Flynn groans.

“Ned wants me to…” Flynn snorts. “Meet with Lilabeth’s parents.”

“Ah.” Irwin nods. “By Lilabeth, you mean the young terminally ill girl that you accide-...”

…Flynn turns to Irwin with a cold stare.

“I MEAN.” Irwin clears his throat. “The one Micheal Graves intentionally exploded.”

Flynn hits Irwin with an affable finger-gun. “Bingo. See, here’s the issue…”

…

“What, exactly, are you supposed to say… to someone… y’know… after you play a NOT-INSIGNIFICANT role… in exploding their child?”

…

Irwin sputters his lips for a few moments, lost. “I mean, that’s a tough one, sir. They don’t make greeting cards for that sort of event.”

“I know.” Flynn scratches the back of his head. “I checked.”

Flynn exhales.

“This is dumb. STUPID! Why the HELL does Ned want me to speak to these people? There’s no CONCRETE OBJECTIVE to comforting these people!” Flynn barks.

“W-W-what do you mean, sir?”

“No endgame success! Nothing I say will do ANYTHING to actually HELP these peopl! And I HATE THAT! I don’t believe in empty words, Ir-dawg! I’m a doer, not a speaker!”

Irwin smiles uncomfortably caught between his urge to compliment Flynn and his fear of correcting him. “B-b-but, sir! You love speaking! You’re one of the greatest promo-deliverers in wrestling history!” Irwin bleats, the former urger winning over the latter.

“That’s DIFFERENT.” Flynn spits. “I’m SPEAKING about how I’m going to DOMINATE my opponent. This is…” Flynn sighs. “A different kind of talking. There’s nothing to do. Lilabeth is dead.” …Flynn sighs. “And I fucked up saving her.”

…

Irwin softens. If Irwin weren’t terrified of Flynn, he’d rest a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

…

Instead, he stays about six feet away. (Which is pretty close by Irwin’s standards.)

“...Sorry, sir. That’s tough.”

…

Flynn’s ears perk.

“What was that, Ir-man?”

…Irwin clears his throat.

“I said ‘sorry’, sir. That’s not a great predicament… So, I said… sorry.”

“SORRY!” Flynn grins, snapping his fingers! “OF COURSE! THAT’S WHAT I SAY! SORRY! That’s true AND I’m DOING something. I’m APOLOGIZING!”

…Irwin shrugs.

“Uh… yes! Good idea!” Irwin extends a fist into a thumbs-up!

Flynn fistbumps it! “YOUR Good idea, Irmano!”

…Irwin is glowing red! This is the second time in two days that Flynn credited him with an idea he had. (That also makes for two times in total.)

“DUH! Brilliant in its simplicity!” Flynn bows his head, mournfully. “I’m sorry for your loss! I’m sorry for your pain.”

Flynn snaps his fingers!

“Oooooh! Then, a check! For THEIR LOSS! That’s another thing I can do! I can pay for their expenses!” Flynn pumps his fist! “A big NOVELTY CHECK! The size of a goddamn SUBARU!”

…

Irwin clears his throat.

“Sir, if I may, I think a novelty check might be… inappropriate.”

…

Flynn fehs.

“Ugh, you might be right, Ir-dawg. Let’s go regular check…”

…

“But, I’ll bring a spare in the backseat, in case I get there and the vibe is right for a giant check.”

…

Flynn disappears back inside his work area.

…

Irwin scratches his head.

“Uhhh… sir? Are y-?”

BAM! A second later, Flynn is out, dressed to the nines for a black tie affair.

“Y’know, Irwinner.” Flynn nods, tightening his tie around his throat. “A minute ago, I was thinking this would be a disaster… But, after your wise council.” Flynn beams. “I’m gonna knock giving my condolences OUTTA THE FUCKIN’ PARK!”

Irwin nods! “Absolutely!”

***

24 Hours Later…

Irwin is sweeping the storage unit calmly, whistling cheerfully.

WHAM! The door to Flynn’s storage unit is kicked open!

Irwin jogs forward happily!

“Mister Flynn, how did it g-”

SMACK! A large novelty check hits Irwin square in the forehead (mostly harmlessly, it’s pretty light!) It falls to the floor!

Flynn stumbles in… his nice black suit torn at the collar… Sporting a purple bruise on his cheek.

”NED PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE!”

…

”...P-p-p-pardon?”

”NED. KAYE. PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE!”

Flynn marches across the storage unit, slamming the door to his work area.

…

Irwin carefully creeps up and knocks once.

”S-s-s-sir? Do you… wanna talk about it?”

SWIP! The door slips open! And Flynn’s face is red! (in anger, humiliation and because of light bruising)

”Lilabeth’s mom, Nancy, did NOT want an apology. She did NOT want my money.” Flynn sneers, furiously. ”She didn’t even want to see me AT ALL! She said she wanted nothing to do with me!”

Irwin is nauseous with terror! ”I-I-I’m so sorry, sir! I… My idea was awful!”

…

Flynn shakes his head, shrugging. ”...Well, actually, no, honestly, all that was fine. Nance, Lilabeth’s mom, said she didn’t hate me.” Flynn scratches his chin. “Which, honestly, I gotta call a win.”

…After a moment, Irwin shrugs. “That is, in fact, better than the average person reacts to you, sir.”

“Then, GET THIS! Lilabeth’s dad, Bill actually thanked me for killing Gravy! Said I did the right thing!”

…

Irwin’s eyes squint. “Wait, but you’ve said you didn’t kill Gravy.”

“Exactly, Gravy blew himself up. But ol’ Billy Boy thanked me for it! Said I did the right thing.”

“Well.” Irwin smiles. “That sounds like two for two!”

“I KNOW! I FUCKING NAILED IT!” Flynn howls! “Then, we get outside, I tell Ned thanks for making me do that and that I appreciate the lesson.” Flynn shakes his head. “Then, NED PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE!”

“B-b-but, why?”

“I DUNNO! He starts in about how selfish I am…”

“Selfish?”

“That I thought our meeting was all about me! It was supposed to be about the parents!”

“...Well, that’s not a *bad* point, sir.” Irwin mutters. “Shouldn’t it be about their needs?”

“If it should… WHY DID WE EVEN GO THERE, IRWIN?!?” Flynn slurs out. “They didn’t even invite us! Ned insisted on forcing this meeting to happen so *I* could apologize! If it wasn’t about me, and it wasn’t about them, who the FUCK was it for?!?”

…Irwin clears his throat.

“Well, I… I suppose I understand your confusion, sir. Sounds like an overreaction on Ned’s part to punch you in the face over just that...”

…

Flynn scratches his head.

“...Well, there was one other thing…”

“Oh?”

“Ned was mad… saying I… took justice into my own hands. That I acted like Gravy’s judge, jury and executioner! But I didn’t even KILL Gravy!”

“...But, Lilabeth’s dad did thank you for killing him?”

“Correct, yes, Irwin. Which, y’know, that’s fine…”

“But, then Ned hit you for killing him.”

“WHICH I DIDN’T DO.”

…

“Well…” Irwin says, not sure how to confront Flynn with the fact that he’s okay being thanked for something he didn’t do, but not okay with being criticized for it. “Maybe Ned wants you to… do better? And… next time, you co-?”

“Next time, I should do WHAT better, Irwin?!?” Flynn spits. “I stop a yakuza robbery in Japan, people boo me. I save six kids from being exploded in Sacramento, people BOO ME LOUDER! I do EXACTLY what Ned wants, apologizing to parents WHO DON’T EVEN WANT AN APOLOGY and ol’ Neddy PUNCHES ME IN THE FACE!”

Flynn swipes his arm across his chest! “I keep trying to do the right thing and getting SMACKED AROUND! NO MORE! I’m sick of PEOPLE and their IRRATIONAL decisions!”

“WE’RE FORCING PEOPLE TO LIKE ME! IT’S THE ONLY REASONABLE, GOOD CHOICE AT THIS POINT!” He slams the door to his workzone.

…

Irwin rapidly raps on the door!

“Sir, I… I do understand your frustrations! People can be inconsistent! But… maybe don’t hypnotize them into liking y-”

WHAM! The door gets kicked down again.

…

And on the other side of the door…

Is a supercharged Cherry Red Honda Fit.

Upgraded eight-cylinder engine.

”Back from the dead after NK flipped it and smashed it to pieces.” Flynn dusts his knuckles against his chest in faux modesty.

”...Oh. You’ve just been… working on repairing your car this week?”

”Repairing?” Flynn pshaws dismissively. ”I have been RESURRECTING my noble vehicular steed! Making him better than he was before… Better, stronger, faster!”

…Irwin breathes a sigh of relief.

”I’m actually thankful, sir! I thought you’d spent the whole week working on some mind control device! To… y’know… force people to like you!”

Flynn scoffs, smiling. ”Ir-dawg! Whaddya take me for? I wouldn’t waste my time tinkering making some fake mind control widget!”

Irwin smiles, nodding, pleased as punch!

”Not when I could just take a perfectly functional mind-controller from someone else!”

”Naturally!”

…

”...Wait, what?”

Flynn smiles as he presses a button on his keys twice…

The vehicle remote starts, purring like a jungle cat.

”Out there, sitting out there for anyone to take… like a jewel left in the road, is exactly what I want.”

”A tool perfectly crafted to influence weak and feeble minds into believing whatever I want.”

”And I’m using it for good. So people will finally acknowledge that I’m a GOOD GUY!”

…

”W-w-what are you talking about?”

”What else could I be talking about, Ir-dawg?”



…

”...Actually, I think that name just changed.”

”...To what?”



…

”...That’s stupid.”

…

”Now, I’m just stealing it to change the name back.”

…

”And… uh… For Justice!”

***

I act.

I always have.

I speak to further my goals. I get in the head of my opponents because it makes achieving my goals easier.

But, when the mics get thrown down, that’s where I thrive.

When it comes to a battle of wills. Of minds. Of hungers.

That’s where I triumph.

Nine times out of ten.

Ninety-nine times out of one-hundred.

Because I am FULLY FOCUSED on MY SUCCESS.

…

Meanwhile, look at Reggie.

Look at MM.

…

I’m not underestimating either of my opponents..

Mastermind genuinely is one accidental Uni run short of a Legend status career. He’s NEARLY held belts in the XWF as many days as both Sebastian AND Thaddeus Duke. He’s fumbled backwards over just about every title in this business and, if he wins this match, he’d be locking down his FOURTH X-Treme title reign.

Not too fucking shabby.

…

Reggie? Ol’ Wrestler82?

He’s a wildcard. He pinned Uni champ Robert Main. He beat Cage Coleman, and that guy has more five-star matches than brain cells left!

(28, last time I checked my stats).

If he wins? He’d ALSO become a four-time X-Treme champ.

Pretty stellar record.

…

So, what’s the problem? I've got two opponents with no shortage of experience in X-Treme Title matches... Shouldn't I be shaking in my boots?

...

Lemme make it clear to you mouthbreathers why I've got this in the fucking bag.

Listen to my opponents.

Check out their promo work this week.

Whaddya notice?

...

Fairy tales.

Television binges.

These boys are living in fucking fantasy worlds.

…

Did you see MM’s promo about him being the Big Bad Wolf and me being a scared lil’ porker?

Mastermind had to craft an entire fairy tale to even IMAGINE a world where he could beat me…

…

AND THEN HE DIDN’T.

READ THE FUCKING END OF MM’S PROMO! Ol’ Kiwi chases me through a house of twigs, a house of hay, then to a bunker… THEN HE GIVES UP!

Mastermind can’t even beat Mark Flynn in a fairy tale that HE WROTE!

HOW THE FUCK IS HE GONNA BEAT ME IN THE REAL WORLD, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…

…

Then, Reggie. Oooh, Reggie.

…Reggie responded in week two.

By… just kinda lifting Mastermind’s idea.

And doing his own fairytale, where I’m a bear.

…

He also opted to not give himself a role in the fairytale.

…Which, if he’s not willing to even make up a story where he faces off with me?

How the HELL is he gonna get in the ring?

…

See what I mean here?

My opponents had to abstract layers of fiction…

Animal identities…

Lost references…

But, in the end, underneath these coats of fantasy, these deviations from reality…

These Little Nemos can’t even beat Mark Flynn in their dreams.

The only place Mastermind and Reggie have even the slightest INKLING of control over their fates…

How the HELL are they gonna beat me in the real world?

Where I THRIVE.

Where I DOMINATE.

…

My opponents have to imagine FANTASTICAL WORLDS to conceive of a scenario where they can even stand toe-to-toe with me.

Let’s set aside childish things… Fairy tales…

FICTION.

Let’s talk about the real world.

Let’s talk about how MARK FLYNN PERFORMS IN THE REAL WORLD.

FACT: I became the ONLY XWF WRESTLER to defend the X-Treme Title through WarGames.

FACT: I BEAT XWF LEGEND DOCTOR LOUIS D’VILLE!

FACT: I BEAT FORMER UNI CHAMP SIDNEY GREY!

FACT: I am the ONLY X-Treme champion since the requirements change to win SEVEN matches and NOT get a briefcase.

FACT: Despite that, I am still

JUST.

ONE.

WIN.

AWAY.

From obtaining MY 24/7 XWF briefcase.

A feat Mastermind has NEVER ACHIEVED in his three X-Treme Title reigns.

A feat Reggie Estrada HAS NEVER COME NEAR in his XWF career.

Masked or otherwise.

...

You two don't even win in your little imagination playhouses.

In the real world, boys?

I’m the goddamned genuine article.

The MOTHERFUCKING FACT.

…

Reg?

MM?

Unlike you two chucklefucks.

I don’t need to dream up a world where I’m walking out Leap of Faith…

With a 24/7 briefcase.

Because I.

Will.

MAKE IT.

REALITY.