BITCH!

A very irate Madison Dyson greets you, looking her usual 3 days into the rag self.

Fuck you Caedus. Fuck you you holier tha thou cunt bag piece of shit. If Engy is too much of a bitch to say it I will. You're a hypocrite asshole bag of fuck all, goin' on calling everybody else out for being a piece of shit when your own wrestling profile reads like a what's what of interpersonal war crimes.

BITCH!

So take this you five-head having primadonna assmonger!

The preternaturally enjoyable sight of America's sweet heart is eclipsed by a full screen title card.

JIM CAEDUS' HOUSE OF PRAGMATIC ETHICS: I AM A MORALIZING CUM RAG.

The title card dissolves away and we open on a garbage can. The lid explodes off the can, striking the wall behind with a clatter and out pops JIM CAEDUS! Or, at the very least, the dead ringer Madison has repeatedly hired to portray him. A banana peel is wound up in his grungy, sticky blond locks, that ever present psychotic manic gleam in his eyes also accounted for.

HEY EVERYBODY, it's JIM CAEDUS HERE!

He goes to step out of the garbage can and stumbles, sending himself and the can tumbling to the floor. He screams like he's off his meds (because he is, AGAIN), kicking furiously at the can until it's dislodged. Finally, he gets up, oblivious to the fact that he's covered in fetid filth.

I'm here today to rant endlessly about the subject of PRAGMATIC MORALALITY and....

NOOOO! STAAAAAAHP!

A voice calls out, and judging by the expression in Jim's face it wasn't planned for.

Engy stumbles into the scene and worse for the wear is only the tip of the ice berg. Mostly drained bottle of gin in hand, he's enveloped in a gross looking bathrobe that's doing nothing to conceal the stained tighty whitey underwear and yellowed wife beater he's wearing underneath. He sways on his feet like he's on board a fishing trawler in rough waters. “Jim Caedus” looks off camera, a look of confusion on his face.

Uh, Madison?

Madison storms into view.

NO! This is happening! You've been acting like a bitch ass blubbering GOOP CHUTE for the last two weeks and you're LOSING the war for America's hearts and minds! America wants crass insults and psychological damage. America wants to see Caedus in counseling! YOU ARE FUCKING UP! So back up, fuck off, and take that....

Engy smashes the Caedus actor in the face with the bottle. It shatters spectacularly, spilling booze and nose blood everywhere. The guy drops like a sack of hammers. Madison looks down in shock and anger.

YOU HAVE NOW FUCKED UP!

Engy starts drunkenly stumbling towards the camera guy.

Hey...uhhhhh...*urp* show's over. You get aaaaaaaa.....paid....vacation?

The camera backs up. You can actually hear the camera guy gulp.

Take the vacay, son. Won't ask twice.

The camera clicks off right before Engy gets up to him.

LATER...

We reopen, presumably with a camera guy who doesn't have urine in his pants, at Madison Dyson's estate. The Engineer is sitting in a gazebo in the midst of a garden that is nothing but Black Dahlia's. It's...unsettling.

He's still wearing the same nasty ass clothes as before, and appears to be in the process of killing an entire bottle of Jim Beam this time. Joachim Bright enters the shot, wearing a gray hoodie that almost seems to envelope his entire slight frame. The wind batters it a bit, the weather clearly a bit nippy despite the fact that we're in the deep south. Engy seems to pay it no mind. Joachim sits down across from him.

Where did Madison go?

Who cares.

He slams another shot.

I've never seen her that mad before. She was like so mad she stopped talking. She NEVER stops talking. Can she fire you or something?

Nope. Other way around. Though she can bail and abandon her employment. Meh.

He puts the bottle down next to him. Gently tipping the lip, he causes it to go tumbling off the bench and to the ground. Miraculously, it doesn't break, just rolling off to the side.

So, are you starting to regret the whole “taking the high road” thing yet?

He sighs and lolls his head back, bringing up a mighty scrock of phlegm and spitting it over the side of the gazebo.

Whats the point of regrettin' it now? What's done is done. But was it worth it? I dunno. Nobody seems to believe me.

Jo sighs. He pulls out a smart phone and taps at it a few times.

Has it ever occurred to you why people don't believe you?

Engy makes a “oh not this shit again face” and groans.

Just don't.

You screwed up in your last promo against Caedus.

What are you on about?

Jo brings the phone over to Engy, a clip from his last promo primed and ready.

Quote:Jim Caedus Talking Through Engy's Penis Which is Now Talking Through Taco The Pig

Quote: ---> "There won't be any bullshit or shananigans (God I love that word) because I only pull that shit on people I don't respect. You will get a straight up fight. And while I will not hold back, I will give you the respect you deserve." <---


Oops.

I don't care if you decide to play the semantics game in retort or not, you inadvertently sold yourself out long before ever getting the chance to currently contradict yourself. Liar. Pussy. All you ever do is say what you say at the time to get your way, there's nothing honest about any of it.

[/center]

If you want to count the severe beating I laid on him as “shananigans, well, A) that kinda shit tends to happen in Xtreme Title match FIGHTS and B) the guy's opening salvo was coming at me with an assault rifle wrapped in barbed wire so yeah, I think he had it coming. I will concede though that the car thing maaaaaaay have been a little much. Got caught up in the moment, ya know? With vehicular homicide. But I think you can sympathize with that whole casual disregard for the lives of others thing when they try to kill you first. In fact, I KNOW you can. The guy also didn't even bother to comment on our match at all after going on record about what a hate boner he had for me now. So yeah, respect nullified.

Engy screws his face up as he tries to follow his own material through the booze goggles presently affixed to his face.

I reiterate, what you on about?

Jo takes the phone back from Engy and returns to his seat.

Jim wasn't saying you were being a hypocrite because of the way you treated BWP in the match, he was saying that you already showed your ass when you said you didn't play games with people you respect.

I'm not playin' games with Caedus.

Yes you are! You keep blowing smoke up his ass about wanting to be is friend, and you admitted that, at least in part, you're layin' the nicey-nice on him so thick because you wanted him to lay off the gas.

Oh Jesus WEPT!

Engy gets up, tossing his arms out in frustration.

Because it's COMPLETELY FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE to want to have my cake and eat it too? Because it's such a foreign fucking concept that maybe I can have some fun with this guy AND respect him. You know what? What if, one day, Jim ends up facing his “BFF 4 LYFE PARTNER” Robert Main in a match? Those two love and trust each other to the Nth degree. Do you honestly think though that, for as much love and respect Jim has for Robert, that he WOULDN'T try to get a psychological edge on him? Huh? Why the fuck am I being persecuted so hard for something literally every-god-damn-one-else in this business does?!

Jo looks incredulous.

You honestly see absolutely nothing wrong with what you're doing?

NO! Enlighten me, swami!

You're being persecuted for it because in the span of a couple weeks you're trying to convince everyone you're not the same person you've been for decades.

Jo states this simply and matter of factly. Engy slumps back down on the bench.

So it's totally impossible that I've had a change of heart and that I really do respect Jim?

Impossible? No. But it's really goddamn unlikely. Look, in a way, I kinda feel sorry for you. I think you've had so much trauma in your life, and that you've INFLICTED so much trauma on others that you don't even know when you're lying sometimes. Reality and fiction has become so blurred for you that truth is just another cluttering irrelevancy. And you've been like this your whole life. That entire “mentally disabled” stage? Even NOW nobody knows if that was some elaborate ploy or honest to God mental illness. Hell, do YOU even know? What's real? What's not? What's truth? What's lie? That's the bed YOU'VE made for yourself, and after living your life that way for so many years you cannot reasonably expect Jim Caedus or anyone else to up and believe you're some stand up guy just because YOU say so.

Engy sighs, and stays quiet for a minute.

Did he put you up to this?

No!

Engy shakes his head with frustration.

So I'm just fucked then?

Well....not forever? I mean, look, you could CONCEIVABLY gain people's trust, gain Jim's trust, but you have A LOT of damage to undo. That kind of thing takes time. Months. Years!

But I prefer instant gratification.

Joachim narrows his eyes at his dad.

Not sure if serious.

Fine. I hear you. It's gonna take time. But are there things I could do to ya know....speed up the process?

Jo smiles.

I'm so glad you asked.

More Later...

Engy and Joachim stand at either end of a circular wooden table, each side abutted by a simple chair. Engy's at least wearing pants now, but still looks like turd warmed over. A strange device sits in the center of the table.



Oh God, you're a Scientologist! I knew there had to be something wrong with you!

Psh, scientology couldn't afford ME. Besides, it's not an E-reader, dummy. It's a polygraph machine.

Where the hell did you even get this?

It was in Madison's attic actually. Right under a mound of Tiki torches. I was up until like 3 am last night researching how to use these things.

And you want me to do this shit?

You wanna start building credibility? Here's a start.

Engy licks his lips nervously. He paces around the table, eyeballing the machine.

You know these things aren't even admissible in a court of law right? And, you can get false positives just from being nervous. I mean, you might as well be reading fucking tea leaves, it'd probably be more scientific.

Sounds like you're making excuses to me.

He stops pacing, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

....well?

I'm THINKING!

What is there to think about? All you need to do is tell the truth. Lying is what makes it hard.

You really are a mouthy little shit, you know that?

Jo chuckles and sits at one end of the table, pulling a home printed manual for this paricular device closer to him. The Engineer casts one last nervous glance at the polygraph, then a glance at his son, and finally he sits down. Jo instructs Engy on how to affix himself to the device, leafing through the manual . Engy mutters something about “some bullshit Maury Povich shit” as he straps himself in. But nonetheless, despite much grousing, he does it.

I got one more question. How do you know I'm not just one of those people who's such a stone cold psychopath that I can lie without any physiological reaction whatsoever?

Well, I guess we'll find out. So first we need to establish a baseline. What's your name?

The Engineer.



Oh, we're off to a great start. That means you're lying.

Alright, alright DEXTER BRIGHT!

**Bing!**

Not to be confused with **Ding!**

Ok, that registered as truth. Good. Now say something else true.

I have never been sexually attracted to another man.



OH FUCK I FORGOT ABOUT SETH FEDER!

Yeah we're really gonna have to discuss that one some other time! But try again.

I am running for the United States Senate.

**BING!**

Frightening, but accurate. Ok, another baseline question....

How many of these things are there?

The manual recommends a minimum of 30 “non-controversial items” to establish a baseline and gauge your physiological reactions.

Let's not! Come on, just get to the shit you want to get to, alright?

The Engineer drums his fingers on the table, looking like a caged animal. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and over his nose.

Ok, well, let's work this in a bit. Do you think you can win the Universal Championship?

Hell yeah.

**BING!**

Do you think you SHOULD win the Universal championship?

Of course.

**BING!**

Did you DELIBERATELY get yourself removed from The Motherfuckers-Apex match at War Games?

Engy leans back in his chair, a petulant sneer appearing on him.

What does this have to do with....?

...building credibility like you say you want to? Everything.

Engy clears his throat.

No. I. Did. Not.

**BING!**

Joachim looks at the machine, unable to keep an expression of surprise off his face.

Yeah, weren't expectin' that one were ya? Come on what else you got.

Joachim smiles and cracks his knuckles a bit, playfully feeding off his father's sudden burst of confidence.

Hmmm....alright then. Were you actually knowingly pretending to be a person?

No.

**BING!**

What?! NO GODDAMN WAY!

BWAHAHAHAHA! Guess I'm more fucked up than you thought, huh?!

Joachim sits for a moment in silence.

Maybe...maybe the machine's been sitting in that attic too long...

Oh no no no! It was just fine before. Let's keep going!

Joachim flips a page in the manual and clears his throat, glowering at Engy the whole time.

Alright! Next question. Do you actually care about me?

Engy leans forward in his seat, stabbing a finger at his son.

That's dirty pool!

ANSWER THE QUESTION!

Another bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. He looks at the machine, gaze boring a hole into it. Then, abruptly, he picks his head up and looks at Joachim.

No.

They both stare at each other in pregnant silence as the cutting words slips through his lips. Finally, Joachim pulls himself away and looks at the machine.



Joachim smiles, then laughs.

What's so fucking funny?

YOU LIED! You do care!

Engy runs his hands over his face, suddenly looking very, very tired. Which obscures his line of sight to Joachim allowing his own facade to crack a little, betraying relief.

Fine. Maybe a little. And only because you interest me, like a....a science experiment...or something.

Sure.

Fuck you.

Joachim looks at his father again, chuckles to see him sitting there and grousing, before continuing.

Ok, here's a fun one. If given the choice, would you be a member of Apex?

Nope.

**BING!**

A faction name is just a stupid label you put on existing relationships. I don't NEED to be in a faction. Besides, Apex wouldn't have me anyway.

Fair enough. Alright, so what do you say we really get down to brass tacks?

You asking me if I cared about you wasn't “brass tacks”?

It was a good warm up. But ultimately the fans are paying to see this drama between Jim Caedus and The Engineer play out, right?

Engy smiles at Joachim, pointing at him with a touch of pride.

You ARE starting to get this business.

I'm serious though. Are you ready for this?

He stops, more moisture poking out from the pores of his skin, his words trying to voice swaggering confidence but his body betraying something else. He places his palms down on the table, leaving a thin film of sweaty imprints on it.

Let's do it.

Do you plan to somehow screw Jim Caedus over at Turning Point?

No.

**BING!**

So, to clarify, you will not attempt to cheat or use any kind of underhanded tactics to win the match with Jim Caedus at Turning Point?

No.

**BING!**

Joachim looks impressed. Engy returns a wry smile to him.

Maybe your old man's not so bad after all, huh?

Are you actually afraid of Jim Caedus, as you say you are?

I have a healthy fear of Jim Caedus, yes.

They both look to the machine, waiting for a reply. Joachim turns his head up in consternation.

...what?

It's saying your answer is inconclusive.

Joachim starts rifling through the manual.

Why don't you just ask your next question?

Joachim puts the manual down.

Alright. Do you actually want to be friends with Jim Caedus?

Engy sits up in his seat, taking in a breath. He looks around the room before refocusing on the matter at hand.

Yes, I do.

**BING!**

Joachim is again shocked.

I've been trying to say it for WEEKS! Finally some goddamn validation!

Joachim pulls his jaw back up.

Ok. You were telling the truth. But this here? This is the clincher. Are you ready?

Completely.

The boys locks eyes with his father. The father does the same to the boy. Joachim speaks the question slowly and surely, allowing for no misinterpretation.

Do you respect Jim Caedus?

Engy smiles broadly.

Completely.

…

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It's saying you lied.

The air leaves the room. A pall hangs over the proceedings. The Engineer's confident countenance starts to evaporate, slowly melting into confusion.

That....that's not possible....

It's....it's....

Ask the goddamn question again!

Ok , ok! Do you respect Jim Caedus?

YES, YES, A THOUSAND TIMES YES!



Jo almost looks afraid to speak.

What does it say?

The young man averts his gaze.

That you're still lying.

The Engineer pauses. Jo runs a hand through his brown locks, expression pinched with disbelief.

How do you like someone you don't respect?

Engy explodes. Taking both sides of the tables in his hands, he upends it, sending the polygraph smashing into the wall. Joachim slides back in his chair, bolting to his feet. The Engineer heads for the door, spluttering curses as he goes. Joachim watches as his father opens the door, passes through it, then slams it just behind him.

End