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John Samuels · (04-16-2013)

AYYY GIIIIRLLLL

WHAT UP WIT DAT MOUTH DOE!?

The scene opens to a blushing Fairchild, holding her head down and rushing along the sidewalk. The buildings she passes are covered in graffiti, with their windows all boarded up and broken. Men across the street continue to hoot and cat call as all Fairchild can do is quicken her pace.

Samuels: Hurry up, please. My shoes are worth more than these cars.

Samuels is shown several feet ahead of Fairchild, moving even more quickly than her. Fairchild begins to run as she finally catches up to Samuels, is who is quickly studying the addresses of the buildings. He stops at one who’s number isn’t visible.

Samuels: Is this one it?

Fairchild: The woman said it was a yellow building, I don’t think this is it.

A disheveled homeless man pops out of an alleyway next to the pair, startling the pair. He holds his hand out towards them but before he can ask to borrow some change, he is pepper sprayed by a screaming Fairchild. As the man groans in pain and stumbles towards the pair, a screaming Samuels shoves the man backwards with his foot. The two turn and run full speed from the man, ducking into a yellow building. The pair double-over, both panting and wheezing loudly inside the doorway. They stand and wipe sweat off their faces as the camera reveals a table of people staring at the two. Embarrassed, Samuels and Fairchild rush to two open seats, holding their heads down. Samuels grabs a nearby carafe filled with water and pours, and chugs, a glass of water. He twiddles his thumbs before one of the people seated next to him whisper into his ear, shooting him up in his chair with a wide smile on his face.

Samuels: Right! I’m sorry about that. We were almost mugged out there! Crazy neighborhood you’ve got here.

The woman sitting next to Samuels loudly clears her throat, signaling Samuels to move on.

Samuels: Okay, people. I’m here today to clear up what appears to be a bit of controversy. It appears that some comments and actions that I made this week in preparation for my upcoming XWF title match against Neonero, a man of Asian descent, have come under some scrutiny. From what I’ve been hearing, the Asian community is upset for these comments which some have labled ‘racist’ or ‘xenophobic’ publicity stunts that I’ve been using to get into the head of Neonero. This couldn’t be further from the truth.

The woman seated next to Samuels raises her hand, but before Samuels can call on her she pipes in anyway.

Woman: First of all, we prefer the term Asian-Americans, Mr. Senator. Secondly, how could your comments and actions not be considered racist? You called Neonero everything from Eggroll to Haiku, referenced multiple Asian-American stereotypes, and even beat up a man simply because of his Japanese background. Please, Senator Samuels, explain to myself and my fellow members of A.A.C.R.E. how your comments were not racist?

Senator: What on Earth does A.A.C.R.E. even stand for?

Woman: Asian Americans for Civil Rights and Equality

Senator: Oh. That explains that.

Samuels looks around the table, filled with Asian faces save for Fairchild’s.

Woman: We’re waiting, Senator.

Samuels: Oh yes. Well you see, just like Neonero, you completely misunderstood what I said. Must be an Asia-- Err, it seems to be common among you peop-- I mean, you’re just like Nero. You see, I didn’t say my comments weren’t racist- I actually found them to be funny. What I said, was it that it wasn’t true that I needed to say these things to get into Nero’s head, and beat him. Take a good, long look at me. I’m bigger than him, stronger than him and smarter than him. Do you think I need to play mind games with him? Really? No... All I need to do is show up in that ring and beat him: One, two, three. He likes to talk about the good ol’ days, back when Cyren and Mark Flynn were names to be feared, and it’s time for him to join them. I’m going to take his title from him, humiliate him, and then kick his sorry butt back to XWF’s retirement home, where he can drink tea and knit sweaters with the rest of the dinosaurs who used to be somebody. But hey, at least he’ll have a good story to tell the blue-haired Betties, right? “The Champion and the Has-Been,” Doctor Seuss couldn’t right a better story himself. And I’ll come visit, I’ll bring my shiny new European title... and maybe Nero’s good friend Paul Heyman. I’m sure Paul would absolutely love to see Nero battered, broken and useless.

The members of the group all stare at each other in silence as Samuels rambles on.

Woman: Wait, wait. So you’re just here to promote your wrestling fight against this ‘Neonero?’

Samuels: Of course I am. What in God’s name what I be doing in this disgusting and dangerous part of town if I weren’t?

Woman: Apologizing for your insensitive views of Asian-Americans?

Samuels: Oh God, no. Why do you think I made Ann drive? I know you Asian women are all gonna be driving home and I don’t want you dinging up my nice, new car. Now, should we move on to questions? Questions, anyone?

The woman throws her hands up in the air, mumbling something in Chinese. She says something out loud in the foreign language as the women all nod and talk amongst themselves.

Ping: Ping pong! Mushu pork?

Samuels: Eight inches. Next question?

Shu: Wushu sashimi, shrimp fried rice?

Samuels: That is a good question! And the answer, is no. No, I don’t think Neonero deserves my respect. Even if he does hold Monday Night Madness’ title. He beat a good-for-nothing burnout. Hell, Jeff Hardy is probably in the next building over getting high on smack, or goofballs, or whatever these junkies are putting into their veins these days. And then what does Nero do? Gets into a anti-climatic dispute with Ursula Areano. Good job, woman beater. I wonder if it made him feel like a big, strong man to beat up such a poor, defenseless woman? Well the champ is in for a rude awakening, because that title isn’t his anymore. That’s my gold he’s holding, and I don’t like it when people touch my things. As the most dominant man to ever hit Monday Night Madness’ roster, I’m coming to take the belt that is rightfully mine. And there’s not a damn thing Nero can do about it. And I hope he doesn’t let Jeff Hardy’s little rematch request get in the way of our match. Do I care if they rematch? No, couldn’t care less. Because it won’t be for the European title. That’ll be wrapped safely around my waist.

Red in the face, Samuels stops and collects himself. He scans the room and sees only one hand still raised, which he slowly points to.

Choi: Oppa Gangam Style?

Samuels: How am I going to beat Nero? Well that’s easy. I’m going to look him right in his squinty little eyes, and when he blinks I’m going to put my size 15 boot right in-between them. And when he’s done on the ground, crying those miso soup flavored tears, I’m going to pick him up and laugh in his face. Up he goes, and then just like that-- BANG! Right down on that egg like head of his. And then it’s as simple as stepping on his face until that ref drops that hand down three times and hands me over my belt. And that’s how the story of Neonero’s European title run ends. With a boot, a laugh, and a broken skull.

The table of people all shoot glances of pure hatred at Samuels, who is oblivious to them. He smiles as they begin to boo, which sends Fairchild to Samuels’ side tugging at his sleeve. The camera cuts to the exterior of the building, a few moments pass as nothing happens before Samuels and Fairchild burst through the door. Merely a second later, the members of the Asian-American equality group chase after them screaming, brandishing katanas and nunchucks. The scene ends as with Samuels screaming at the top of his long, running away from certain dismemberment.

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