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Guppy Parsh · **10-05-2014, 03:13 AM**

~Act I~

KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Come in.”

The door opened with a creek as the former doctor slipped inside carrying a frown. Concern too, there was plenty of concern in his eyes. His arms were crossed against his chest.

“Stevil, I’m a little disappointed.”

“Shut the fuck up, Guppy.”

“No, when we decided to buy this apartment together you said you wouldn’t break things. I came home from a long day of crime-fighting to find the Bat-Mobile’s hood dented, the fire alarm broken, my bomb deactivated, my favorite cactus missing, the alarm clock doesn’t work, and I can’t find any of my Loverboy shirts anywhere.”

“I can’t find YOUR GIRLFRIEND. Leave me alone.”

“I don’t have a girlfrien-,”

“Then go get one, bitch!”

Guppy rolled his eyes and turned to leave. He was about ready to write this off as Stevil being Stevil; his room of decadence was a mess anyway. Guppy didn’t want to be in there. Guppy wasn’t a fan of the tapes labeled ‘rape porn’ strewn across the floor or leaving two liter bottles filled with urine just lying around. Guppy didn’t want to look at Stevil’s new neckbeard or his copy of the Al Qaeda Handbook displayed prominently on his bookshelf of terror.

However, those things did seem rather odd. Guppy didn’t remember them from the last time he was in Stevil’s humble abode of destruction.

“Have you been playing on Xbox Live again?”

“Some asshole was knifing in Gun Game.”

“That’s dumb, it’s Gun Game not Knife Game,”

“That’s what I said!” Stevil sadistically punched the carpet of misfortune, “It pisses me off.”

“Is that why you broke everything?”

“No, I broke everything in our first promo.”

“Oh, why?”

“I don’t want to future talk about it. I’m sorry though; I forgot I’m not aloud to break stuff. I’m not used to being so oppressed as an artist.”

Stevil sickeningly slumped down in his chair.

“Stevil…we’re really busy people we can’t go to the store everyday to replace things. Those Loverboy shirts took two weeks to get here, Stevil! Now I have to wait two more weeks!"

“Whatever, those shirts suck. Fucking dick. When you wear a Loverboy shirt you look like a stupid fuck no matter how the light hits you. You should get them express delivered straight into a furnace."

“Loverboy’s shirts are fabulous! I’m the head of the Vinnie Lane fan club, Stevil. I even voted for him for Superstar of the Month. I need to have a Loverboy shirt on hand in case there’s any official club business.”

“Your mom is official club business.”

“It’s not the Darren Dangerous fan club.”

“That seems like a better one. Darren Dangerous was actually cool and never whined about anything. Vinnie Lane is a gay

who whines like a woman cursed by biology.”

“Just because someone is gay it doesn’t make them not cool. Besides Stevil, Lane was just on TV with a bunch of girls.”

With his earth-shattering discovery proven undoubtedly false, Stevil literally had nothing else. His facade was revealed in one of his own promos and he could feel the grasp he once held over Guppy’s mind future slipping away. He could tell that someday he'd be out of a job. There was nothing he could do. Stevil was the one who knew what to do. Stevil was the man who was willing to do everything and anything for a greater artistic purpose. Stevil was the based God of promo directing, but Tri Bute was trash. Tri Bute was a weakness. Tri Bute was a sickness. Tri Bute was the definition of inferiority. Tri Bute proved that knowledge wasn’t power.

“Whatever. He’s still a bitch who likes ugly 'girls', and he’s dumb. What kind of

has never met bitches with their pussies stuck together? Sex change operators aren't real doctors so they obviously fuck up those surgeries all the time and make all kinds of mistakes. I think that promo was the first time he went outside. How else would he have never met women afflicted by this occupational hazard? Who’d watch a TV show about some shut-in virgin picking out the tranny of his dreams? Is it on the Barney Green network?”

“Barney isn't a shut-in; he parties all night. I think you’re just taking this out on Vinnie. What’s actually bothering you?”

“What’s actually bothering me? Nothing. I’m fine, I guess I’m just enlightened that’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I used to be in the Loverboy cave just like you. His whining was soothing back then; I guess it just takes almost cutting a guy’s dick off before you realize whining is annoying.”

“Whining? I stopped whining awhile ago.”

“You stopped, but Loverboy never did. I heard he was whining about Pest being the referee. What a fucking dick. Doesn’t he know Pest wants a paycheck too? It’s almost like he wants Pest to starve to death and die.”

“I think Mr. XWF will do an awesome job as referee.”

“I know he will. He has a lot of experience refereeing matches. Plus, I bet he never whines about all the head he gets from those hot chicks. If I was Mr. Pest I’d be pretty damn happy. You have no idea what it’s like being me, Guppy.”

“T-,”

“You never have to walk somewhere for two whole miles to get pizza because of some cunt that hates Hawaii. You never have to where a mask everywhere you go in case someone sees you and figures out what kind of monster you are. You were always so perfect. You never did anything heinous that could ever come back to haunt you.”

“I walked all day today because I forgot how to drive! I wear a mask all the time! I used to rape people! Then I became Batman.

When you put on your mask you become a hero too, Stevil. You’re my hero.”

“I’m no one’s hero, Guppy. I’m Tri Bute.”

Guppy froze. Wasn't he Tri Bute? Wait no, I think Sally P. ended up being Tri Bute. Why did Stevil think he was Tri Bute? The more Guppy put his mind to it the more it made sense. That's probably why Stevil was always viciously wiping his mask of veiled fate with various belts around the home. In the future, future napkins are shaped like present day belts and future worn around future waists.

“No, you were Tri Bute. I used to be him too. Once I found my place I became myself. We’re all Tri Bute at first; we’re all trying to find our niche. Do you remember when I used to kill people?”

“Yes, I remember those shitty promos. They were like Vinnie’s but without all the cheese and ugly men,”

“I changed, if you don’t want to be from the future anymore, just stop.”

Stevil wickedly stared deep into Guppy’s eyes. He saw the sincerity. He saw the truth. All this time he had been trying to hide the fact that he was Tri Bute and whining like a bitch in the process, but that wasn’t answer. No one ever cared about Tri Bute. He was just a future guy with an average sized future penis who now has a shitty job where he writes wrestling matches and wrestling promos for blind people and develops games with sexist morals while writing a blog about sexism being bad while simultaneously working at the register of a third-rate pizza stop without pineapples. Stevil was always so much more. Stevil was a star. Stevil took Guppy to his highest heights.

Becoming Stevil was the greatest thing Tri Bute ever did.

It was time to stop bitching. It was time to start doing. Stevil terrifyingly put on his sunglasses of darkening.

"Let's shoot a promo."

Guppy fin.

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