Previously…

Quote:Tote/Tate/Wilson scrolls through hundreds of wrestling tweets.

…

“Okay.”

…T/T/W takes a deep breath.

“Irwin.”

“I’m going to tell you something.”

“And I want you to be calm.”

…

“Okay?”

…

“Mark Flynn.”

T/T/W sighs.

[yellow“IS retiring.”[/yellow]

…

“BUT! That doesn’t mean I was wrong about the other things, okay?”

T/T/W starts to turn around.

“That doesn’t mean he’s not hims-”

…

Irwin is off the bench.

…

And his chains rest on the floor.

…

Left on the ground?

T/T/W’s nail file.

…

On the wall?

An open window.

…

T/T/W pinches her brow.

“Goddammit.”

”So, I ran!”

“Evading law enforcement at every turn… Having to think one step ahead… Completely entering my hunters’ mind, anticipating their every move!”

“Through sheer force of will, I became a master of disguise! Able to assume the form of anything from a light pole! To a garbage can! To a Hispanic mother and her two children at the drop of a hat!”

“I ran over a th-”

”Do it.”


…Irwin glances up from his dramatic retelling of his heroic escape.

”...What, sir?”

”You said you’d become a master of disguise, and could assume the form of a Hispanic mother AND her two kids at the drop of a hat.”

”...Well, maybe not *assume the form* completely… but… I *could* bear a passing resemblance that the police would think… I was a small Latin American family.”

”Bullshit.”

”No, really!” Irwin shakes his head, insisting emphatically! ”I totally could, sir! I had to do it multiple times on my way here!”

”Then, do it!” Flynn dares Irwin, as a hand surreptitiously reaches into his pocket…

”It’s not something I can do at will! It’s a reflex! A survival tactic I’ve trained into my core! Like a chameleon! Or a Condylostylus fl-!”

WHEEEEE OOOOOOOOOOOOOH! WHEEEEEEEEEE OH!

All of a sudden, the sound of police sirens!

”Cops!”

That moment, the camera pans to Flynn’s face, as off-screen, there’s the sound of flesh and bone shifting…

Transforming…

…As Flynn’s expression turns to one of astonished horror!

…

Following by begrudging acceptance, accompanied by a single clap.

”Fine, yeah, okay. I’ll admit when I’m wrong… You *can* become a small Latin-American family right there, Ir-dawg.”

…The camera pans backwards as muscles detense and shift…

And by the time it arrives back to Irwin, he’s redonning his trademark glasses.

“Anyway, where was I I ran across six states! All the way from a courthouse in New York! Over one-thousand mi-”

”Question.” Flynn raises a hand.

Irwin is flummoxed by the interruption, but nods. ”Uh… g-go ahead, Mister Flynn?”

”Why were you in New York?”

…

”Mister Flynn, I was charged with… murder? Of Maximillian Duhast?”

“Remember? 1029 W. 123rd St? You and Mister Kaye and Mister King and Mister Pryce and I all played Clue?”

…

”Uh-huh.”

…Flynn scratches his chin.

”Uh… What was I wearing at the time?”

…Irwin sighs.

[white]”A paisley safari outfit with monocle, a la Col-”

Flynn snaps his fingers! ”A la Colonel Mustard! That’s right! I remember now!”

…

”You killed that guy!”

Irwin horrifiedly shakes his head. ”S-sir! I promise I didn’t! That’s what I kept calling you about! About Mister Clinton could defend me in court!”

…Flynn squints. ”Oh yeeeeeeeeah.”

…

”Well, that asshole’s gone now. The law office has closed up shop…”

”...Oh!” Irwin dry-swallows. ”...Really? You sure?”

”Evicted permanently from his last residence.” Flynn mutters, as he taps the side of his head. ”I’ve converted the frat house of voices in my head into a single-tenant dwelling.”

…

Irwin breathes a sigh…

”Well, to be honest, sir…”

…

”That’s a huge relief!”

…Flynn squints.

”Really? You don’t want Super-Attorney to bail you out?”

…Irwin grits his teeth.

”I mean… Admittedly, that is going to make the issue of my… freedom... more complicated.” Irwin shakes his head. ”But, sir! I mainly came all this way because I was worried you were in danger!”

…

”Danger, Irwinner?”

”...I felt… through our cosmic connection. The bond we share!”

Flynn coughs. *KERAGH*parasocialrelationship*WHEEZE*”

”What?”

”Nothing, go on.”

”The last time I spoke to you… You were acting 100% like Mister Clinton! And I couldn’t… *feel* you. It was like you were gone! Completely stripped from this mortal plane!”

”But, I get here and…” …Irwin knocks on the wooden table. ”It’s you!” Irwin stretches out of his seat, to clench Mister Flynn into a hug. “You’re really you, Mister Flynn!”

Flynn wretches, as he shoves back the poor nerd to arm’s length. ”Of course, I’m ME, Irwin. Who else would I be?!?”

Irwin shakes his head. ”Right, of course! I’m just so glad to get back to where we left off!” Irwin reaches into a drawer, retrieving his trapper-keeper with Flynn’s face on it, (right where he left it).

Irwin licks the pen, and flips to a fresh page.

”So, what’s our scheme, huh? What will Mark Flynn do to take over the wrestling world?!?”

…

”Uh…”

“It’s.”

“‘Micheal Graves’, actually…”

“And we’re…”

“*throat-clear*”

“Unionizing wrestling.”

…

”What?”

---

Okay.

Graves.

Your fifteen minutes are up.

Time to go back to irrelevance.

Aw, don’t be said.

We all had a nice laugh, huh?

We turned the wrestling world on its head, didn’t we?

For two whole months.

‘Micheal Graves’ went from being the wrestling industry’s punchline…

To TOP-TIER TALENT.

Your name is LITERALLY #1 on the ELO chart.

(in quotes, cuz we all know who’s actually numero one).

And all it took?

Was a little substitute casting.

For the

GREATEST.

WRESTLER.

WHO EVER LIVED.

…

Since Day One.

To don the ‘Dark Warrior’ mantle.

And create the single most captivating story on Thursday Night.

…

What did I say I would do?

I told the whole Anarchy Roster.

I could come in and take the belt…

ANY TIME I WANTED.

…

And I did.

…

It’s been fun.

A gas.

A laugh-and-a-half.

…

But now?

Halloween was last month.

Time to hang up the costume.

And shove the dead back in their Graves.