XWF Headquarters.

The dull buzz of a conference call.

“...Which brings us to January 2030. We plan to schedule the wrestling debut of Frankie Duke. He’ll have signed an XWF contract to avenge his father, after Mark Flynn drops Thad into a lava pit at the end of their main-event match at Relentless 2029.”

The mouse clicks. The slide flips.

“Of course, the twist is that Flynn is, in fact, the source of Frankie’s DNA, and thus, his actual father.”

“Whoa, is that true? Is Flynn Frankie’s real father?” A voice calls out on the phone, shocked at this revelation.

“Not in this… reality, Irwin.” Future-Flynn sips at his coffee, looking stoically and speaking matter-of-factly. “But, when you have an even subtle control over the spacetime continuum, these previously-concrete facts become more… malleable.”

The voices on the conference call all mutter, very impressed. Both by the storyline AND this man’s purported capacity to control spacetime.

“So, after Flynn defeats Frankie, we’ll have made it to Year Eight of Mark Flynn’s Universal championship reign… We can plot the path of Year Nine beyond in a future meeting that I will schedule… later. But, for now, meeting adjourned.”

A cacophony of “Thank you, sir!”s and “Brilliant, sir!”s and “I love you, sir!”s as Future-Flynn presses the end call button.

…

“...Hmm.” Future-Flynn scratches his cheek. “That meeting went…” Future-Flynn checks his wristwatch.

“Seven minutes shorter than I accounted for.”

…Future-Flynn’s eyes narrow as he tries to account for his miscalculation.

…

“Ah. Mark wasn’t on the call.”

…

“How… efficient.”

…

In fact, for the first time since September, Future-Flynn’s office is… peaceful.

…Future-Flynn permits himself the slightest smile.



KICK! Future-Flynn’s office door flies open.

“YOU! WE GOTTA TALK!”

And who would walk in, staring straight down at his phone...

Uni belt on his shoulder...

But the MASTER OF REALITY™.

Current-Timeline Mark Flynn.

…Immediately, the small smile vanishes off Future-Flynn’s face. Future-Flynn stands up from his chair.

“Refrain from kicking my door. It’s made of... imported mahogany.”

“Forget that SHIT.” Flynn waves his hand dismissively, walking across the office and taking a seat in Future-Flynn’s executive chair.

…Future-Flynn’s eyes narrow, enraged to have his seat… borrowed.

Flynn sticks his phone into Future-Flynn’s face.

“HAVE YOU SEEN *THIS* SHIT?”

…

Irked, Future-Flynn glances down at the phone.



…Future-Flynn looks back up at Flynn.

“...And?”

…Flynn’s brow scrunches in indignant fury.

“What do you MEAN ‘AND’?!? THEO BLOCKED ME ON TWITTER.”

…

“Yes.” Future-Flynn stares apathetically, incapable of giving a single SHIT about who does and does not block Mark Flynn on social media. “...To which I repeat… And?”

…Flynn looks back down at the phone. Then, at Future-Flynn. Back at the phone. Flynn looks like he’s struggling to find the words.

“...Do you think he’s mad at me?”

“That is… a possibility.”

Flynn looks astonished, at even the slightest chance that Theo could be mad at him. “WHAT?!?! WHY?!?”

…

Future-Flynn blinks twice.

“I am… not Mister Pryce. So, I could not… speculate as to his… inner thoughts and motivations.”

…

“However… If I had to… hypothesize… why he would… block you on social media. It may be because…”

Future-Flynn extends a finger.

“You have harassed him for months with your… theories… that he’s conspired against you for years.”

“Theories? No. Theo HAS conspired against me. That’s a FUCKING FACT.”

…A second finger.

“You are working directly with his adversary, ‘Chronic’ Chris Page, as part of his brand, CCPE. Which directly rivals Theo Pryce’s Saga.”

“COMPETITION CREATES DEMAND™. Without CCPE, The Saga would be just another bunch of misfits! Do you know how much WORK™ goes into getting wrestling fans to cheer for the five ASSKISSERS that the BOSS LOVES?!?”

A third finger.

“Not only did you create and plot an entire Jimmy Fallon talk show with two Jimmy Fallons, *entirely* to spite Theo Pryce… You also manipulated the Jimmy Fallon clone created by XWF Labs for YOUR Double Fallon concept…  into GARROTING the original Jimmy Fallon… Obviously, we’ll win the case and prevent NBC and Jimmy Fallon from successfully suing the company. But, it’s likely Theo would prefer… we NOT hire celebrities and then have them exit with a makeshift tourniquet around their bleeding throat.”

“BAH! If Theo didn’t want that, he should have put “Don’t let celebrity hires get stabbed’ in the company newsletter. That’s on him!”

…

“PLUS, I sent Fallon-Prime a Get Well Soon card!”

…Future-Flynn extends a fourth finger.

“Finally, At SnowJob, you and your CCPE counterparts did battle with his Saga underlings. During which time, ‘Chronic’ Chris Page cracked Mister Pryce about the skull multiple times with a steel folding chair. While this was happening, *you* were doing battle with Raion Kido.”

“...So?”

“It’s conceivable...” Future-Flynn continues aloofly, as if this is as mundane as instructing a baby you don’t know, and don’t care for, how to properly eat. “That Theo holds you both vicariously liable for his injuries, seeing as you were acting on Page’s behalf as Page conducted his vicious attack. And also as the cause-in-fact for his injuries, since, but-for you occupying the attention and capacity of Mister Kido, Pryce likely would not have ended up in such a… distasteful… predicament.”

…

“It’s also worth noting, that… YOU… could have stopped Page from attacking Theo…”

Flynn stares off in the middle distance for a second… Then, down at the floor. As if he’s putting together pieces of an Ancient and Unsolvable Puzzle.

…

“So… Wait.” Flynn eyes Future-Flynn suspiciously. “You’re saying… You DO think Theo’s mad at me?”

…

“...I didn’t say that… exactly.”

Flynn exhales, relieved, as he returns his attention to his phone.

“But, yes, obviously, he’s… angry at you. In fact, if Theo isn’t furious with you, he has the inner-peace of a Buddhist monk.”

Flynn double-takes so hard, he almost swallows his own tongue. He coughs and chokes, absolutely befuddled.

“WHAT?!? ANGRY?!? WITH ME?!?”

“...Yes.”

…

Flynn crosses his arms.

“That’s so fuckin’... TYPICAL… THEO…” Flynn mutters, disgruntled.

…As he does, Future-Flynn stares at his chair, which Flynn is occupying and leaning back in…

“CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?!?” Flynn shakes his head. “Absolutely RIDICULOUS.”

“I’ve made this company RECORD PROFITS™. I am THE BRAND ON WHICH THE XWF STANDS™. I moved so much FUCKING PRODUCT for this company that Theo looks like a humanitarian for getting his employees HEALTH INSURANCE! And Theo is ANGRY… AT ME?!?”

…

“Correct.” Future-Flynn repeats dully, not tolerating Flynn’s bullshit for a second. “Granted, it is likely that Theo still sees you as a very valuable corporate asset.”

“That said, there is also quite a realistic chance that (due to your behavior, actions, and demeanor), he would prefer to associate with you as… INFREQUENTLY… as possible.”

…

Flynn leans back further in the chair, covering his face with his hands… As he does, the Executive Chair creaks… Severely orthopedic comfort settings are being overridden by the pressure Flynn is applying with his emotional turmoil.

Future-Flynn’s eye twitches, just like his Current-Timeline counterpart.

…

“Why do you think he recruited Thad?”

…

Future-Flynn steps forward, cupping a hand around his ear. “Repeat that.”

Flynn’s face reddens slightly. “Shuddup!”

“I genuinely couldn’t hear you, Mark. For a professional speaker, you tend to MUMBLE when you’re upset. Speak up.”

Flynn grimaces…

“Why do you think Theo recruited Thad from CCPE to Saga?”

…Future-Flynn purses his lips thoughtfully.

“Finally, a question of business. On this matter, I have two hypotheses.”

Future-Flynn opens his right hand.

“First, Theo… as we have covered… is a masterful tactician. He managed to not only fend off the OCW invasion of XWF without bloodshed, but he turned the invasion into a net-positive for the company. The… acquisitions… of Xavier Lux, Peter Vaughn and Jason Cashe drive ticket sales upwards to this day.”

Future-Flynn sighs in the slightest gesture of admiration, as if he genuinely appreciates Theo’s business acumen.

“Thus, in his ongoing battle for control over the wrestling industry with ‘Chronic’ Chris Page, Theo Pryce not only signed Buster Gloves, a man with a recent victory over Page… BUT, he negotiated the buying-out of Thaddeus Duke.”

Future-Flynn nods nostalgically, as if recalling a grandmaster’s greatest counter in a game of chess. “This action serves several purposes on two unique fronts. On a functional level, a conversion such as this is the ultimate masterstroke. You not only sever a resource from your opponent, but you take it on as your own, maximizing the shift in power between you and your adversary.”

Future-Flynn nods, gritting his teeth briefly. “This, of course, assumes that Thaddeus Duke remains a positive asset in 2023. After his… lackluster performance in WarGames last year, it is conceivable that instead of stealing a weapon from Page, Theo has accidentally taken an albatross that was weighing down CCPE and taken it onto his own fledgling ranks. Time will tell as to what role Thaddeus Duke will play...”

“What IS certain now, though, is the symbolic victory of Theo’s maneuver. Theo has demonstrated that he CAN compete with Page in terms of recruitment. And he proved it by taking Page’s first major acquisition. In many ways, Thad was the Crown Jewel of Page’s enterprise.”

A vein in Flynn’s forehead pulses irritatedly at the implication that Thad is CCPE’s crown jewel. Future-Flynn notes that, but continues.

“But, those victories are… functional.”

Future-Flynn closes his right hand. And opens his left.

“It may also serve a purpose on an emotional front. As you astutely pointed out in your… *cough*... Winter Solstice Special… Theo has been recently distant from those he was otherwise close with. You specifically mentioned Thaddeus Duke and his efforts to purchase OCW as, and I quote, as efforts ‘just to play dress-up as Lil’ Theo’… It is possible that your comments drove Mister Pryce to reach out to Mister Duke and that reaching-out strengthened the familial bond between the two, such that Thaddeus Duke would happily pay out of his contract to spend more time with his…” Finger-quotes. “Business Uncle Daddy.”

“So.” Future-Flynn sighs, exasperatedly. “Feel free to mock Theo for needing you to bully him into success and take all the credit for Pryce’s minor victories, as you so often savor doing.”

…Despite this invitation to mock Theo, Flynn’s brow still quakes, troubled.

“...But, why didn’t he ask me?”

“Would you have said yes?”

Flynn looks up, surprised at Future-Flynn. Despite Future-Flynn claiming that he couldn’t hear Flynn’s muttering, it’s apparent that he heard that question loud and clear.

“...That’s not the point!”

“Isn’t it? Theo is a practical businessman. It’s quite likely that he calculated the odds of a successful conversion and determined that Thaddeus Duke would provide the most value, along with the highest chance of success.”

Future-Flynn bends down to meet the sitting Flynn, eye-to-eye.

“Perhaps he might see you as more valuable… But also, a riskier proposition, given your… attitude towards him in recent months. And Theo Pryce… had one chance to strike. A failed conversion of talent would have, NO DOUBT, alerted Page to Theo’s efforts and left Theo worse off than where he began.”

…

“So, I ask again. Did Theo miscalculate? Had Theo asked you to switch sides… Would you have said yes?”

…

Flynn snarls angrily.

“Well… I-”

The phone chirps!

…Flynn glances down.

His face lights up like a kid at Christmas!

“HA! Theo unblocked me! It was an accident!”

Flynn stands up, knocking over Future-Flynn’s executive seat, as he pumps his fists like he just won the SuperBowl, the NBA Finals and the Iraq War all at the same time.

“HA! He said it must have been an unintentional pocket-block! SUCK IT!” Flynn delivers a crotch-chop. Flynn spins on Future-Flynn. “Ha! You thought he was ANGRY… at me!” Flynn shakes his head in disbelief.

“You should see the LOOK on your STUPID, IDIOT FACE.”

…First off, not a single one of Future-Flynn’s facial muscles has shifted once this entire conversation.

Two, they, of course, have the same genes, and thus, the same face (albeit, several decades difference in age).

…But Future-Flynn doesn’t point these things out.

What purpose would it serve?

Instead, he pulls his chair off the ground. And pushes it back against his desk.

“Goody… goody...” Future-Flynn says, as he carefully resets a few pens on his desk to being immaculately parallel. That done, he walks toward Flynn, who has giddily resumed typing on his phone.

“Now that your… social-media-oriented existential-crisis has… resolved itself fully…”

…SPARTA KICK!

In a flash, Flynn is rolling backwards out the office door! His cell clatters beside his head. Shocked, Flynn looks up from the ground at Future-Flynn, who stands in the doorway, straightening his tie.

“Get the FUCK OUT OF MY OFFICE.”

SLAM!

…Flynn doesn’t get off the floor, instead re-grabbing his phone and scrolling down Theo’s Twitter timeline.

“Fuckin’... PRYCE…”

…

Flynn clicks like on one of Theo’s tweets.

***
THE DINGY YELLOW OFFICE

The faceless homonculus in a suit and tie has a folder in his hand, which he shifts onto the desk.

”They say when you love what you do… You never work a day in your life.”

The creature sighs fondly, as he rests a hand on the folder.

“If this is my DREAM JOB™, then I hope I never wake up.”

“I get to CRUSH DREAMS. I get to DESTROY pretenders and ANNIHILATE the self-worshipping, FALSE IDOLS.”

“All in the name of doing what’s BEST FOR BUSINESS™.”

“As a PROPHET OF PROFIT™.”

“As the SOOTHSAYER OF SUCCESS™.”

…The facsimile shakes his hands in front of his chest.

“And I’m such a fucking businessman, you RUBES almost wanna buy the second-best product every time, right? For a second, you tell yourself…”

“Shouldn’t Atty Raven be Universal Champion? I’d love to be there to watch her get the title!”

“Could you imagine how fun a Dick Powers Uni Title Reign would be? I need to see that live in the front-row!”

“Holy shit! Peter Vaughn - vs - Mark Flynn! Vaughn just beat Flynn for the WGWF Title! That’s a GUARANTEED TITLE CHANGE! I gotta drive four hours to Green Bay to see that live!”

The Monster lifts his hands together over his head.

“HOOK.”

He twists them outwards.

“LINE.”

Then he swivels his right hand in a circle.

“And SINKER. Another sale made.”

“I could sell you fucking stooges a Tide laundry detergent commercial and you’d be sitting there on the couch saying ‘Maybe THIS TIME the next leading brand will win! GO, NEXT LEADING BRAND!’”

“Because while you fucking SIMPLETONS ask yourselves what *could* happen? You never stop to ask yourselves… What’s BEST FOR BUSINESS™?”

“And the answer is always ‘Eight More Weeks of Flynn.’”

“That’s what makes me the MASTER OF REALITY™, kids.”

“Because when what I say goes? The money line goes up.”

…

“But!”

“Denying promotion requests is only HALF the job.”

“I also need to cultivate the DIRT. The COMMON SOIL.”

“THE ME-DEE-OH-KUR.”

“I need to review The RED LINES on the company evaluation. And I need to convert it into a positive to MAXIMIZE RETURNS™.”

“I did it with ‘The’ Jessica Anderson. And she picked up her first Anarchy win.”

“I did it to Darren Dangerous and made him look like the toughest motherfucker on Madness.”

“THE OPTIMAL PATH WORKS MIRACLES!”

“...But, this week, I’ve got my biggest challenge yet.”

“Because, how do you solve a problem… Like Job Guy?”

…The inhuman flips open the folder.

“Let’s see… Debut Match: November 29th, 2020 at High Stakes! In a Battle Royal for the Universal Championship! Holy shit, you can’t GET a more high-profile start than competing for the Uni Title the DAY after signing a contract!”

“I mean, sure, you were eliminated first… But STILL! What an impact!”

“And… Here we go… Job Guy’s XWF Record is…”

“0-6!”

“Wow! That’s NEGATIVE VALUE if I’ve ever seen it.”

“Job. This company is paying you appearance fees… We’ve added you to the company health insurance plan. We add an extra sandwich to the catering spread on the off-chance you'll be in the building…”

“Which brings me to my question… For all the little things this company does..."

"And it does a lot for you, doesn't it?"

"In return..."

"WHAT DO YOU DO FOR THE BUSINESS?”

“Because it’s not fucking wrestle. Your last match was July 11th, 2022 on Madness.”

“Do you understand that Dick Powers was MURDERED by Jason Voorhees… And he still finds a way to show up for work every month?”

“And you’ve been ABSENT for almost SEVEN… MONTHS…”

“And when you are here, Job? Somehow, Even worse.”

“You were eliminated first NOT ONLY in your debut match. You were eliminated first in your elimination match against the Syndicate. Before such lackluster names as the Big Upps and Joey Oddjobs.”

“You lost to the geriatric JOKE, Terry Borden, in a minute and thirty-four seconds.”

“In the Generic Heel Local Talent Battle Royal, you were eliminated eighth out of twenty.”

“You’re a FUCKING PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER, JOB. YOU HAVE TO FILL OUT A 1099 EVERY YEAR. YOUR CAREER IS WRESTLING.”

“And in a field full of LOCAL TALENT, you’re still BELOW AVERAGE.”

“This.”

“Will.”

“Not.”

“Do.”

…

“But, there’s a fix.”

“You’re so low… an ant, a worm, a fucking GERM, writhing in dirt and SHIT…”

“That there’s so much room for you to climb.”

“To ascend the MOUNTAINTOP™.”

“To reach with your DISGUSTING, MALFORMED hands toward the HEAVENS THEMSELVES…”

…

“But, for your climb to be truly glorious… We must bury you first.”

“There’s still space beneath you.”

“For absolute destruction. A fucking DECIMATION. AN OBLITERATION.”

“And when all that is left is specks… traces… ATOMS… of what Job Guy once was…”

“We will begin anew. You will be reborn in failure. With a great journey ahead of you.”

“Taking your first step…”

“Onto the Optimal Path.”