Mark Flynn
24/7 Briefcase Holders get their name in GOLD
XWF FanBase: The IWC (gets varying reactions in the arenas, but will be worshiped like a god and defended until the end by internet fans; literally has thousands of online dorks logging on to complain anytime they lose a match or don't get pushed right)
XWF Roster Page
Joined: Sun Aug 01 2021
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The constant cacophony of change trickling down jackpot spouts.
A mechanical choir of slots whirring…
Visions of cherries, sevens, and bars, dancing across a thousand screens.
The camera pans down a line-up of Las Vegas stereotypes.
An octogenarian in a pink tracksuit, chain-smoking with a Zip-Loc bag of quarters.
The drunken groom-to-be… now just dumping in money and giggling at the pretty lights.
The angry balding goblin-man in blue wrestling ti-.
…Wait a second, angry-goblin-with-male-pattern-baldness is NOT a Vegas stereotype!
…The little creature, with a wrinkled face covered in frown-lines, spins toward the camera and grins.
“TATIANA JOLEE!”
The seat of his little stool in front of the slot machine spins ‘round, as he hops off onto the Casino Floor.
“Enjoying the big city, Jojo?" Flynn smiles, fondly. “Cuz I looooooooooooooOOOOOOVE VEGAS!”
Flynn flares his nostrils, taking the deepest breath, soaking in as much of the Vegas air as possible…
…Unfortunately, at that moment, the grandma in the tracksuit blows a cloud of cigarette smoke straight into Flynn’s face…
His eyes widen… He chokes, hacks and gags… Punching himself in the chest to force-restart his lungs!
“...Pheeeew…" He hacks.
“Dig that… *cough* Refreshing… Air.." Flynn half-smiles. “THE NIGHTLIFE! THE EXCITEMENT!”
“The 24/7 access to seafood buffets!”
“And most importantly, the WRESTLING! This city has become where the BEST of the BEST come to lay their claim to the MOUNTAINTOP!"
“TO LEGEND STATUS!”
“TO GODHOOD ITSELF!”
“The ultimate test! Separating the above-average from the TRULY PHENOMENAL!”
Flynn looks proudly at the Uni belt across his shoulder… when, suddenly, his eyebrows lift.
He quickly runs his meaty palm around the metal plate on his shoulder…
A few seconds later, it’s so shiny and new, you can see the reflection of Flynn’s crooked smile in it.
…Flynn’s grin twists downward as he looks in his teeth. He lowers his jaw down and to the right.
“...Ah… Dammit." Flynn, like a prisoner using a nail file to cut through bars, takes a fingernail and rapidly saws the inside of his tooth.
There’s a… surprisingly loud popping sound. Like a fucking can of tennis balls. As Flynn fishes out a… small bone… from in-between his teeth.
Flynn bares his teeth at the belt as he discards the thing over his shoulder… Checking up, down, left and right…
…He smiles.
“Peeeeeeerfect.”
He spins back towards the camera.
“I want everything IMMACULATE for tonight, TJ. Because, this?”
“Is MY NIGHT.”
…Flynn grins, as his hands brush a few crumbs and specks off his chest, still trying to self-groom himself into a state of immaculate wonder.
“Now, if you haven’t been living under a rock, you know who I am…”
Flynn presses a hand to the side of his face, like he’s sharing a secret.
“Of course, let’s face it. Action Wrestling is about as close to ‘Under a Rock’ as the wrestling industry gets…”
Flynn shakes his head, smiling.
“Action Wrestling on Paramount Plus, huh? Must feel like quite an achievement when, like clockwork, on Monday nights, millions of P+ subscribers open the app, see your face on their front page…”
“And scroll past it to re-watch Yellowstone.”
Flynn cackles, as he runs his fingertips to try and straighten his wild, bushy eyebrows…
“STILL! In case you’re IGNORANT of the GLORY you currently have the privilege of BASKING IN…”
Flynn delivers another finger-gun.
“I’ll introduce myself…”
Flynn clears his throat, beating his chest, as if perfectly tuning his larynx.
He cups his hand around his mouth and does a little mock-trumpet toot, turning off to the side, doing his best impression of a Royal Footman.
Flynn unfurls an ancient scroll!
(Where’d that come from?)
“PRESENTIIIIIIING…”
“‘The Kiiiiiiiiiiiing of the Mid-Carders™’!”
“The Current, Reeeeeeeeeeigning… and Defendiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing… XWF UNIVERSAAAAAAAAAAAL Champion™!”
“THE MASTER OF REALITY™ HIMSELF!”
“THE TWENTY-TWENTY-TWO XWF STAR OF THE YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAR.”
“MARK… FUUUUUUUUCKING FLYNN!”
Flynn gestures up to an opulent staircase…
And standing at the peak of the stairs….
Is… Mark Flynn?!?
…Dressed in a purple robe, wearing a crown. Wielding a jewel-embossed scepter. A thousand paparazzi cameras flashing, like he’s king of the world.
The video camera does a double-take to where Flynn just was standing.
…He’s… gone?
“Hey, Camera-Guy?" Snap-snap.
The Cameraman flips back toward the stairs.
Where Flynn is now inches away from his face.
Flynn grabs the sides of the screen and pulls it closer until only his eye is in frame.
The eye winks.
“Try and keep up.”
Flynn cackles as he retreats to center frame.
“Am I glowing, Jojo? Am I fucking RADIANT?" Flynn is literally beaming. It’s sickening to watch how happy this little troll boy is.
“If so…" Flynn shoves a finger accusatorily down the camera barrel.
“I HAVE A DAMN GOOD REASON TO BE.”
Flynn is literally shaking with anticipation.
“Because this? THIS SHOW? This is a big one."
“Hell, this is THE BIG ONE."
“In terms of crossover shows? This is TOP OF THE FUCKING LINE, TATTERS!!”
“FUUUUUUCK Tara Fenix’s BULLSHIT CANOE.”
“SCUH-REEEEEEEEEEEW whatever BULLSHIT soap opera The SPLAT! Network is shilling this month with wrestler-slash-actor-slash-TALENTLESS HACKS…”
Flynn rubs his hands together so quickly, you can see a trail of smoke brew around the friction.
“THIS… Tati… is the DENZEL PORTER INVITATIONAL.”
“Where Legends are MAAAAAAADE, Lil’ Tatiana.”
Flynn taps his nose.
“Y’know, some might say my breakout year? My 2022…"
Flynn spins toward a side-camera… From off-frame, he lifts a golden statue.
“The year I won XWF Star of the Year." Flynn winks… As he sets the camera down back off-frame.
“Started at last year’s DPI…”
Flynn’s eye glimmers nostalgically, as he squeezes his fists in excitement.
“One year ago, I carried two UNTALENTED CHILDREN… Corey Smith and Thaddeus Duke… over Two World Series of Wrestling FINALISTS, Peter Vaughn and Xavier Lux… AND the #5 Ranked Wrestler in the World, Betsy Granger.”
“I Main-Evented Night ONE… And I was the star of the show, baby. The BREAKOUT TALENT. AT THE MOST INNOVATIVE, GROUND-BREAKING EVENT IN WRESTLING HISTORY… The talk of the night was… HOLY SHIT, MARK FLYNN, the career tag-team specialist in his 40s, LOOKS LIKE THE FUTURE OF WRESTLING.”
Flynn pounds a fist on his chest… Not aggressively, but like if he doesn’t contain himself, he’ll leap out of his own mortal frame and ascend to Valhalla right there, is how good he is.
“What came from that, TJ? Oh, nothing major… Just a spot in Chris Page’s CANNABIS CUP. Where I competed against 31 other wrestlers… From seven of the biggest feds in the wrestling industry.”
Flynn winks.
“I put MYSELF and MY COMPANY at the TOP of the industry, by beating FIVE other competitors in THREE NIGHTS.”
“I won the BIGGEST, MOST FAR-REACHING WRESTLING TOURNAMENT in the ENTIRE INDUSTRY.”
“THAT turned into a Universal Title Match at the BIGGEST SHOW on the XWF calendar, Main-Eventing RELENTLESS! I beat Raion Kido, the biggest breakout star in the industry at the time. I WON the TOP TITLE in the company that I had made the HIGHEST-PROFILE ACROSS THE GLOBE.”
“And what followed that, Tatiana? Culminated in an appearance at the Tara Fenix Charity Event… Where I (more-or-less) SINGLE-HANDEDLY took on FIVE.”
“FIIIIIIIIIIVE.”
“Of the biggest and best stars that Action Wrestling could scrape together.”
…
“(With a menagerie of capable CCPE signees, but mostly me…)”
“It was Team CCPE versus Team AW, captained by Action Wrestling’s biggest name… The G.o.A.T. of the blue-and-yellow brand, ‘DEATHMATCH’ COREY BLACK. The most famous World Heavyweight Championship in the history of Action Wrestling!”
…Flynn sneers menacingly.
“...And I pounded him like a cheap drum.”
“I pinned Regan Voorhees, the hottest Action Wrestling Star of 2022…”
“I made the current AW Champ, Jill Park, look like a second-rate GREENHORN, running CIRCLES around her in that ring…”
Saliva flecks off Flynn’s lips as he works himself into a frenzy! He points down the barrel of the camera, accusatorily.
“I HUMILIATED *YOUR* COMPANY IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE WRESTLING INDUSTRY… The officials had to throw me out of the match… That’s how badly it went, TJ. If I hadn’t been ILLEGALLY THROWN OUT, CCPE would have won with FOUR SURVIVORS…. And Action Wrestling would be FINANCIALLY INSOLVENT.”
“Because nobody… wants a MID-TIER wrestling promotion on their streaming service.”
“Not even a shit network like CBS.”
…
“Follow-up, in case you want to argue us winning was a fluke, Tay-Jo… That Team CCPE only beat Team AW was dumb luck.”
“The next crossover show I was on? Team CCPE beat…”
Flynn scratches his nose.
“Hang on, lemme make sure I get this right…”
Flynn reaches into his tights… Fishing out…
A notecard!
He lifts it to his face, adjusting a pair of reading glasses onto his nose…
“Team CCPE nearly SWEPT the entire event. AND we took the main event in a one-sided CURB STOMP.”
…Flynn smiles, dropping the notecard and folding away his glasses.
“Why am I telling you all this, TJ?”
Flynn giggles insidiously.
“I want you to… fully comprehend… why I’M here.”
“Because it’ll help you understand… why YOU’RE here.”
“See, Denzel Porter… many, MANY months ago… gave me a gift.”
“Pick your opponent. Whoddya want? We’ll get ‘em.”
“You know what that tells me, Tati? That my opponent does… not… MATTER. Because *I* am the draw. I move the tickets. MY NAME SELLS THE PRODUCT™. And my opponent is the window-dressing. A prop by which I get to show off just how fuckin’ GOOOOOD I am.”
“And I told him to give me the best… the VERY FUCKIN’ BEST that Action Wrestling had to offer.”
“Cuz I’m gonna DEFINITIVELY BURY what LITTLE REMAINS of Action Wrestling’s reputation in the wrestling world…”
“And Denzel Porter, like a zookeeper dropping a pile of raw meat into the den of an APEX PREDATOR… Brought me you.”
“THE Reigning Action Wrestling WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!" Flynn rubs his hands together. “Finally! The XWF’s best and AW’s best MEET! And ONCE and FOR AL-”
Suddenly, Flynn’s face contorts. He snorts.
There’s… buzzing. Coming from… somewhere?
Flynn presses his fingertips to his ear like an on-the-scene investigative reporter.
“...Uh-huh… Uh-huh…”
…Flynn shakes his head.
“Ah. Tati, I’m getting word, that you’re… *throat-clear*... NOT… AW World Champion.”
…
“Well. Denzel clearly must have deemed you worthy to represent the best Action Wrestling has to offer!. And this shall be a vicious battle! Between the REIGNING XWF Universal Champion and a FORMER Action Wrestling World Heavyw-...”
…
Flynn pushes his fingers toward his ear again. The buzzing has resumed.
“...Wait… Really? She’s NEVER been world champion?”
…
“Well, what’s the second-best AW title?”
…
“U.S. Champ? Okay, she’s that, right?”
…
“Women’s Champ?”
…
“Television Champ?”
…
“Hardcore Champ?”
…
“Cruiserweight Champ?”
…
Flynn holds up a finger, smiling politely (as he’s capable of)... Before giving the camera his back.
“Then, what the FUCK is she?!?”
…
……
“...What is the PURITY championship?”
…
“It sounds like something Mormon wrestlers compete for.”
…
“Is the belt made of magic underwear?”
…
“...Okay. No, no… It’s… SOMEthing…”
…
Flynn revolves toward the camera.
“Okay! Finally, Action Wrestling will be COMPROMISED to a PERMANENT END! When I DECIMATE the REIGNING… PURITY CHAM-!”
The buzzing in his ear resumes.
Flynn pinches his fingers to his ear.
“WHAT IS IT NOW?!? YOU JUST TOLD ME SHE’S A PURITY CHAMPION.”
…
……
Flynn’s eyebrows raise.
“...Former?”
…
Flynn blushes.
“...I see. Tatiana Jolee is only the FORMER Purity champ…”
Pictured Above: The AW front page could use an update…
…Flynn scratches his scalp.
“Hmm, must have been quite a feat beating MY DPI opponent.”
Flynn grins, psyching himself back up.
“Must have taken two… No, three! No, Five! No, TEN OPPONENTS! A legion, a hoard, a fucking PANTHEON of foes!”
Flynn shakes eagerly.
“I gotta see this! And since I’m the Master of Reality™…”
Flynn taps his nose.
“I can!”
Flynn snaps his fingers.
***
Jump-cut.
A wrestling ring. A packed crowd is screaming for the Purity Rules Championship match.
Sitting in the front row with a box of Junior Mints is… you guessed it, Mark Flynn.
He spins toward the camera.
“We’re here! February 13th! Earlier this week! Action Wrestling’s Monday Night Clash…”
Past Tatiana is in the center of the ring, she goes for a Russian Leg-Sweep on Alister McKissick!
Flynn cups his hands around his mouth (which is full of popcorn)! “WATCH OUT! He’s gonna grab the ropes!”
WHAM!
Allister, in fact, hangs on to the ropes and Tatiana eats shit, slamming her own back against the mat!
The crowd oohs in sympathy. Flynn grits his teeth, before side-eyeing the camera.
“Warned ya…" Flynn shrugs, as he pinched the straw of a 64 oz Cherry Coke cup into his lips.
Wham! Allister hits a rolling forearm on Tatiana! She’s reeling back into the ropes…
Holee rebounds…
Straight into a STORMBREAKER!
Billy (AW’s Play-by-Play announcer (no last name)): 8! 4! 3!
…Flynn scratches his head.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how those numbers go!”
The official counts as Allister pins Jolee!
The crowd chants “1!”
“2!”
“THREEEEEEEE!”
Flynn exhales, relieved.
“There we go. That sounds right.”
Allister McKissick pumps his fists triumphantly as the official hands him the Purity CBS Championship! Tati sits on the ground, pissed and frustrated.
Flynn scratches his chin curiously.
“Hmm! Well, Allister McKissick doesn’t sound like a gang of twenty people… In fact…"
Flynn lifts a pair of opera-glasses to his eyes…
“From here, he just looks like one mediocre mid-carder...”
…Flynn chews on his lip, trying to figure out what he’s missing here…
“Still! Must’ve been quite a battle! I bet you put on a fucking SHOW, Tati!”
Flynn grunts excitedly, as he flips his opera glasses back into his pocket!
“Why don’t we take a look for ourselves, shall we, Tati? Let’s see YOUR highlights of your title defense!”
Flynn snaps!
…Flynn’s smile vanishes.
…
“The fuck?”
Flynn looks at this hand.
“I said… Take me to TJ’s highlights from this match!”
Flynn snaps!
Another computer error sound… Does Flynn’s reality-warping power run on Windows?
…Flynn scratches his head.
Flynn points at this snapping hand with his opposite hand.
“Listen, you! I’m the MASTER of FUCKING REALITY! The champion of the UNIVERSE ITSELF! If it’s been on TV, I HAVE ACCESS TO IT! Now, TAKE. ME. THERE.”
Flynn snaps.
“...Please?”
Snap.
…
“...Er…" Flynn gets a bashful look as he side-eyes the camera.
“This… uh… this never happens to me.”
Flynn’s face reddens.
“Let’s… check the error logs…”
Flynn stretches his arms out in front of his face…
And separates them…
A blue screen appears before Flynn.
ERROR: Target Variable ‘TATIANA_JOLEE_HIGHLIGHT_CLIPS’ Not Found…
“...Odd…”
Flynn’s brow furrows in confusion and anger.
“Let’s get to the bottom of this!”
Flynn points up to the SkyBox above the arena.
The camera pans up… And who’s there?
***
Who else but Mark Flynn!?! Wearing a headset, sitting at Action Wrestling’s Command Center! At a desk with multiple monitors, each showing a different angle of the ring.
He flips a few switches on the board.
“Cut to Camera Two… Let’s get more footage of Tati looking like a talentless loser…”
The Action-Tron shows Tatiana dejectedly pouting, walking up the ramp.
“Put a graphic up.”
Below Tati’s face on-the-screen, we sees a rectangle pop up that reads ‘Former and Final Purity Champion’...
“Haha…" Flynn giggles. “Okay, enough rubbing salt in the emotional wound.”
…
“For now.”
Flynn spins a dial on the control center.
“Let’s rewiiiiiiiiind!!!”
The video rewinds… The belt flies out McKissick’s hands back to the official!
McKissick flies back into a pin on Jolee… Then back off!
The StormBreaker… in REVERSE!
“Aaaaaaaand here… we… g-”
A… BK advertisement starts?
The camera slowly pans away from the combo meal on the tray… as the Buger King jingle plays.
Suddenly, WHAM! A hand launches a backfist! The food goes flying off the tray!
“What the FUCK is happening right now?!?" Flynn seethes with rage. “Where the FUCK is the rest of this match…”
Flynn closes his eyes, weaving his hands in front of him, as he shifts and warps REALITY ITSELF to ascertain what’s going on…
…
His mouth opens…
His eyes widen.
“Oh… Oh God.”
Flynn spins toward the camera, a cold sweat brewing on his brow.
“Tati…”
“You didn’t *just* lose your Purity championship last week.”
“You lost it… During a MOSTLY-UNTELEVISED MATCH…”
Humiliating.
“Tatiana! In the digital age of streaming services, where you can get 24/7 Action Wrestling Content on Paramount Plus (Start your 7-day free trial today!)... The production team… Just… SKIPPED YOUR FUCKING MATCH?!?!”
…
“Jeeeeesus.”
…
“I gotta tell you, Tatiana. I’ve seen some truly FUCKED things in my career…”
…Flynn dry-swallows, shaking his head.
“Buuuuuuut, I’ve never seen a company decide that there was ZERO MONEY to be made, ZERO social media buzz to generate, and ZERO benefit to be had at all… after producing and filming 15 minutes of a CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH…”
…
“...Is that… uh… typical for you?”
Flynn scratches his head.
…When a smile breaks out across his face.
“Can’t be, right? No! This must be some idiot executive’s decision!”
“No, no… This was an off-week, Tati. You must be a fearsome competitor!”
Flynn’s face turns white!
“Oh shit! I got it! THIS was your first loss, right?”
“The company HAS to HIDE this match! People can’t find out the great Tatiana Jolee fell to some RANK AMATEUR…”
“That’s it! We’ll check your records! I bet you’re like 99-and-1!”
Flynn snaps.
***
Jump-Cut to…
…It looks like a library…
A massive multi-floor collection… Cascading bookcases, set like dominos all around…
WHOOOOSH! A ladder slides across the front of one…
Clack… Clack… Clack!
And who enters from the bottom of the frame?
“You guessed it! Mark Flynn.”
Flynn clambers to the top of the ladder…
He squints, peering left-to-right at the covers of these dusty, old tomes…
“Hmm…" His fingers curiously peruse slowly across the surface… Like he’s trying to dowse for whatever he’s looking for…
“Where is it… Wheeeeeere is it…”
…
“AHA!" Suddenly, Flynn’s eyes widen!
Flynn reaches… into his pocket?
And retrieves… A Binder!
“Wouldn’tcha know, it’s always in the last place you think to look.”
Across the front cover, in exquisitely emblazoned lettering:
TATIANA JOLEE’S ACTION WRESTLING RECORD!
(researched, compiled and bound by Mark Flynn)
Whooooooooosh! Flynn slides down the ladder, down to a reading desk where he slams the binder!
“This is it, Tatiana! I took HOURS out of my schedule…”
“(And started a Paramount-Plus 7-day free trial for research purposes)”
“And here it is! I collected, recorded, stratified, collated AND color-coded your entire Action Wrestling career, Tati!”
“Oooooh! I can’t wait any longer! It’s time to find out JUST HOW GOOD YOU ARE!!!!”
“Here we go… Name: Tatiana Jolee.”
“Action Wrestling Debut: November 5th, 2021- Versus Jayson Price!”
“Aaaaaaaand here we go! The REAL MEAT of the stats sheet!”
Searching, parsing through the air for… Something just out of reach.
“...AH! OKAY!" Flynn squeezes his fists so hard his knuckles crack.
“Got it! GOT IT! GOT IT!”
“OBVIOUSLY, Tati… You’re a crossover show VIRTUOSO!”
“After all, Mark Flynn has a 9-0 record at Crossover shows! I’ve literally NEVER LOST A SINGLE ONE OF THESE!”
“THAT’S GOTTA BE DENZEL’S PLAN! THE CLASH OF THE TWO MASTERS OF CROSSOVER!”
Flynn rapidly, panickedly flips through the pages!
“Let’s go to your crossover show history, Tati! Let’s see just how good you are!”
…Flynn gets all the way to the last page!
At the top of the page, ‘TATIANA JOLEE’S CROSSOVER SHOW RECORD’!
Flynn beams and glances down…
…
……
………
A blank page.
…
……
“ZERO Chris Page crossover appearances.”
“ZERO DPI appearances.”
“And… ZERO Tara Fenix Charity bullshit appearances…”
…
“I’m fighting… A mid-carder…”
…
Flynn takes a deep breath.
And he clears his throat.
“...Would you… uh… excuse me for a moment?”
***
Jump-Cut…
To a payphone outside the casino.
Flynn finishes dropping a quarter into the slot and presses the phone up to his ear.
His back is to the camera…
Riiiiiiiiiing…
Riiiiiiiiing…
Riiiiiiiii-
*click*
The line goes dead.
…
Flynn exhales.
***
Cut back to the casino floor…
Flynn, the man who a few short minutes ago, looked like he was on top of the world.
Now sits at a slot machine.
He dejectedly pulls the lever.
The slots revolve…
They gradually slow…
To a cherry…
Cherry!!
…
Aww… And a lime.
LOSER! LOSER! LOSER!
Flynn exhales. Like someone just stole his parking spot.
“I hate Vegas.”
…Flynn takes a completely bog-standard breath. The kind you make when you check your phone and realize you’ve been at the DMV for three hours.
“Y’know the air isn’t even real here?”
“They allow smoking inside the casino, so you don’t have to step outside for a cig. So, they have an air filtration system, where they remove the inside air and artificially scent mechanically-generated air to smell like real air…”
Flynn side-eyes the camera, nodding toward the opaque black windows.
“They paint the windows black so you can’t see outside. Because if you could see outside, you’d know time was passing and think about leaving…”
“You could be here ten minutes…”
“Or ten hours…”
…Flynn’s fists tighten…
“Or Twenty-Five years…”
…
Flynn pulls the lever again…
Cherry!
Cherry!
…Lime.
LOSER! LOSER! LOSER!
Flynn exhales.
“Why the fuck do people do this to themselves?”
…Flynn squeezes his temples, staring daggers at the slot machine in front of him.
“There’s no strategy… No choice… No getting ahead…”
“You watch the wheel spin…”
“And let fate happen to you.”
Level-pull.
Cherry, cherry, lime.
LOSER! LOSER! LOSER!
“It doesn’t matter how hard you work… How bad you want it… What you might deserve…”
“The wheel spins the same…”
“The house gets paid…”
“And I sit here. Staring in the middle…”
“With no road to the top…”
…
Flynn pulls the lever again…
…
And doesn’t release it.
“Well.”
“NOT.”
“ANY.”
“MORE.”
Flynn takes the lever in his hand!
AND YANKS THE MACHINE TO THE GROUND!
SMASH! GLASS SHATTERS IN ALL DIRECTIONS!
The machine, in its dying siren call, dumps its lifeblood onto the casino floor… A torrent of quarters!
Casino-goers dive onto the floor to scoop the coins into their hands…
While Flynn stares daggers down the camera.
“GREAT FUCKING NEWS, TATI!”
“It doesn’t matter how LACKLUSTER you are.”
“It doesn’t matter that you’re a MEDIOCRE NOTHING, who doesn’t deserve to share a LOCKER ROOM with me, let alone a RING.”
“Because this story isn’t Flynn versus Action Wrestling… Not tonight.”
“This is Mark Flynn versus an industry that continues to ignore his ASCENT TO THE MOUNTAINTOP!”
“HIS STEPS TO GODHOOD!”
“HIS JOURNEY ONTO THE OPTIMAL PATH™.”
“I’m the artist, about to paint a mural of violence so profound and profane, that the critics will be INCAPABLE of IGNORING my RIGHTFUL PLACE…”
“And you’re my canvas, Tati.”
“I don’t give a shit if we’re on in the middle of Night 3, because you and I are putting on a fucking show that could end the night, end the weekend, end the sport, end YOUR FUCKING LIFE!”
“They’re going to CHISEL A YOUTUBE LINK to this match on your FUCKING TOMBSTONE, TATI, because it’ll be the MOST FAMOUS THING you were EVER REMOTELY RELATED TO.”
…
“Because this match… Will be the match. That Mark Flynn proved, once and for all, he was above the midcard.”
“And he did it by taking Tatiana Jolee, the midcardiest midcard… A literal 50/50 wrestler.”
“Taking her by the arms.”
“And ripping her in half.”
…
Flynn grins.
“Try having two lesser fucks follow THAT, Porter.”
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