As the shot opens we are treated to a sign that helpfully spells out that we’re at the…

American Association of Proctologists Convention

The shot fades and cuts back to Corey at the front of a medium sized conference room. Assembled in front of him are a plethora of medical professionals all taking their seats. Corey goes up to the podium and grabs the mic.

Alright everyone, if you would find a seat we can begin!

The shuffling continues for a moment and then dies down once everyone is sitting. Corey holds the mic aloft to his mouth and walks over to a nearby laptop, but before touching a key he holds up a finger and queries the audience.

My esteemed colleagues, today is about asking that which we are usually afraid to ask. Because today, we ask about the unlikely, the improbable, heck…even the absurd! Today we ask…is it possible for a man to talk out of his ass?

The doctors all look at each other curiously. One in the front row raises his hand tentatively. Corey gestures to him.

Um…no?

This man says no! In fact, I’m assuming most of you are thinking the same thing. But today is about challenging those old tried and true notions. For today I’m going to prove to you…Corey dramatically hits a key on the keyboard, pulling up a crude powerpoint image of a farting butt juxtaposed with a picture of Isaiah King.

….that it is indeed possible for a man to talk out of his ass!

More befuddled looks from the doctors.

Exhibit A

Corey presses a key on the keyboard and a clip of Isaiah King plays.

Quote:How’s it been like in your little fantasy ass world? Neverland right? Dancing your pretty white ass away from every single problem you had in the world?

Hmmm…a compelling opening gambit. If you’re an idiot. Because if Mr. King had been paying an iota of attention to me or my career, he’d have seen that I have done nothing but address problems I’ve had in the world. Namely, oh, shit, I dunno…my house burning down. Or before that when I addressed problems like drug use, homelessness, and poverty by giving people a place to stay in the commune. I daresay that I have been pretty well rooted in reality, thanks. I’ll give this one…eh…three bronx cheers out of five.

Quote:You’re a bigger star, got a better track record and sure as hell a larger asshole

Oh, nothing to debate here. Just pointing out that the man thinks about my ass a whole lot, going from calling it pretty to assuming my asshole is in fact, large. I appreciate the consideration, though. People cannot say enough about my ass.

NEXT!

Quote:Ungrateful little shit you are.

Chances are you’re only fighting me this coming week because claiming myself as the Kingslayer has your privileged little panties twisted up in a bunch and you wanna prove yourself before you square up against that washed up superhero wannabe.

“Ungrateful little shit”. You mean the kind of ungrateful that gives a guy a Universal Championship match? Because if that’s what that means I’ll take every bit of ingratitude I’ve got coming.

As for you being the Kingslayer, look I’m not about to doubt the royal bonafides of guys like Calypso but maybe before you go tossing around such a badass moniker you should beat up some real wrestling royalty, eh?

Four belly squeakers out of five.

Quote:It’s what you did when Alias was too much to surpass - it’s what you’ll do when I’m done with you and prove to the world what a fraud you really are.

There’s actually half a point here. I DID admit that I ran from Alias. I was very open about that fact. But then I…ya know…came back and beat him.

I guess that’s just something frauds do. Right…*snrkt*...”kingslayer”?

Three cheek rattlers out of five.

Quote:You proved that when you came back and immediately got into bed with the biggest sycophant of all, Dolly B.o.B Waters. You proved that when you dropped that misguided, abused girl faster than a rookie quarterback at the Super Bowl when she suddenly stood across the ring from you.

Whoa, somebody get the Gas-X we’ve got a FIVE FART ALARM FIRE HERE!

First off, I didn’t “drop” Dolly Waters. Dolly Waters dropped me when she started acting like a shit. She changed. I didn’t. In fact, I spoke on that topic at length in the run up to that match with her and Kido. Which you would know if you had any fucking idea what you’re talking about. And by the by, I also said, ad nauseum, that I’d take her back in a heartbeat once she finds her way back to the light.

Is it starting to smell in here? Somebody light a match. Yeesh.

Quote:A king of authenticity.

Yeah. Authentically loses more than half the time. Another five sharts out of five.

Corey slips on a gas mask just as one of the doctors in the front row raises his hand. Corey picks him out of the crowd.

Um, young man what does this have to do with proctology?

Corey (from behind the gas mask), replies, Dude, we already went over this. We’re proving that a man can talk out his ass. It’s going to shake the whole field of ass studies straight to its core!

But, the attendees don’t seem convinced. In fact, most of them get up and start filing out the door.

Wait, wait! Doesn’t anybody have any appreciation for groundbreaking research! YOU’RE ALL BEING HORRIBLY CLOSED MINDED!  Corey sighs. Anyway, we got one more exhibit.

Quote:Reality is painfully crushing Corey.

Yeah? No SHIT. Five oily squeakers out of five.

Corey closes the laptop and takes off the gasmask. And something in his countenance has changed. He’s gotten harder. Meaner. The jokes are over.

The evisceration starts now.

This motherfucker acting like he got a monopoly on a hard knock life.

Corey shakes his head disdainfully.

Like I wasn’t a teenage drug addict. Like I didn’t OD on the floor of a fuckin’ McDonalds. Like I didn’t have my friend and mentor killed right in front of me. Like I didn’t have my body taken over by a monster. Like I didn’t bite and claw through serious neurological injury to return to the XWF after months of recovery.

Bitch, what do you know?

Let’s go with that last one seeing as how this colossal ass spread of a man seems intent on telling me I have a habit of running away from my problems. Back when I was taken over by The Engineer, I said and did a number of things I was deeply ashamed of. So when Fuzz pulled the plug on that, giving me the aforementioned neurological injury in the process, it was damn near a mercy killing.

And you know what? I could have succumbed to the injury, succumbed to the pain, the confusion, the disorientation. I could have given up relearning how to walk and talk and live my life. I could have hid from the XWF and all my shame.

But I didn’t.

I got better. I came back. And I became the Supercontinental champion for over six months. A record I am still deeply proud of. But more than any of that, after those four months of being a monster, I came back and looked my coworkers in the eye, I looked those PEOPLE in the stands in the eye and I said I was sorry. I could have run from all that. I could have! But I chose to come back, pay my penance, and face it head on.

Now does that sound like running from my problems to you?

Now, yes, I did leave the XWF, intending to retire with the Supercontinental championship. And yes, I admit, avoiding Alias factored into my decision. I will concede that point. But you know what?

I came back and beat the man.

You know “winning”, right, “King”? That thing that happens when somebody counts your opponent’s shoulders to the mat for the three? I know your not altogether familiar with the phenomenon. But I did it. I returned and conquered my fear.

And you see, this theme of “overcoming”, of “fighting through” is a common thread throughout my career. Which is something you would know if you had a solitary fucking clue what you were on about.

But you don’t.

Now let’s have a chat about you “kingslayer”. Let’s have a talk about your friend Doc.

Incidentally, fantastic “slice of life” there. Very illuminating. Too bad that poor old man in the hospital bed had the misfortune of knowing you.

Oh, I’m sorry, am I hitting too close to home now? Well strap in asshole, because I’m about to have a sip a milk out of your fridge (you know it’s straight from the carton boo), kick my legs up on your couch, and run a train on your hypocritical ass.

You want to talk about me running from MY problems? Well what the hell did you do to that man? By your own admission you left him. He went missing and you left him hanging.

Could it be that you…oh, I don’t know…RAN FROM THE PROBLEM?

You see, despite your accusations about me using people, I have NEVER, NEVER left someone I care about hanging. If somebody I loved went missing you best believe I’d move heaven and earth themselves to find them. Not toss my hands in the air and “oh well, I’m sure he’ll probably turn up somewhere.” Just stick his face on a milk carton baby, I got another match to lose.

So don’t you fucking dare come at my house when yours isn’t even remotely in order. Do you hear THAT, King? Huh? DID YOU HEAR THAT?! Or are you just gonna gloss over this and talk more about how you’re gonna “beat me up so bad you gonna wish I didn’t beat you up so bad” like every other basic bitch on the block?

You’re done, man. You’re done and you don’t even know it. Come at me again with this weak ass shit. I dare you. See what happens.

“Kingslayer” my big, pretty, white ass.

ELSEWHERE
LATER…

We’re in a serene forest somewhere. Autumn’s beckonings are just starting to show, with a smattering of red leaves on the forest floor that Corey’s Vans are currently crunching through. Behind him, a second pair of feet in Nike’s parse through the path carved through in the downed leaves.

The shot rises to reveal Corey and Joachim, just arriving at a creek bed. Gentle lapping water murmurs on by. Corey appears to be fingering something in his right hand.

Have you done this before? Joachim questioned.

Been to Neverland plenty of times. Corey grinned sheepishly. Just never like this.

Can’t we find deeper water then?

Pan said the ring reacts to places with a particular psychic resonance. I already tried at the beach and got nada. But the ring reacted to this spot when I drove by. So, here we are. He speaks the words with a bemused resignation.

So, to make sure I understand it, that ring…

Corey holds it up to the light now. It’s a ring encrusted with green gems, set around an iridescent red pearl.

….is going to cut a portal to Neverland in the water and you dive through it?

That about sums it up.

Joachim tests the water’s depths with a nearby stick. The stick dips in by a bout a foot. How about a cannonball? So you don’t, ya know, break your neck just in time for Relentless.

Corey mimes tucking himself up like a cannonball. I can do that. He smiles and stands straight up. But I wanted to ask you, seriously now, how do you feel about me doing this?

Well, I just want you to be safe…

No, I mean, beyond that.

Oh. Joachim muttered, casting a quick glance at Corey before bashfully finding something interesting about the brambles at his feet. You mean, how do I FEEL..

Yeah. Corey also temporarily finds something interesting on the ground before locking eyes with Joachim. I don’t want to discount how you feel about me. And you said you loved me. So…

But I don’t want to get in the way of you and Pan.

And that’s if Pan will even have me back. Big if.

But you have to try, Corey. Jo was plaintive, sincere. I don’t want to be the thing that broke you guys up. Okay?

Corey looks like he’s about to persist, but then clamps his mouth and simply replies, Okay. He returns his attention to the ring in his hand and crouches down low towards the water. Now we see if this actually works.

I can't believe you've never done this before.

Never had to. Pan was always there to transport me to Neverland. He gave me this in case of an emergency. Or if something happened to him.

You think he’ll be mad you’re following him?

Well…Corey grinned. We’re about to find out.

Corey plants the ring on his finger, and an instantaneous tingle of energy shoots through his body. It’s enough to make him shudder a bit, but in a good way. Corey then leaned over the water and started tracing the surface of the water with the ring, creating a circle. As he did so, the top of the water seemed to fall away, creating a swirling vortex in a perfect circle, and then simply a hole where the water used to be. The bottom of the hole was impenetrable, pitch black. Joachim marveled at what he just witnessed.

And that’s going to take you to Neverland?

Just gotta take a leap of faith. Heh. Corey knew the trepidation was creeping into his voice. Well, here it goes. Off to win back Pan’s heart.

Be careful, okay?

Of course. Corey tried for confidence, but again fell a bit short. Now, eyeballing the hole in the midst of the stream, Corey approached it, soaking his shoes and socks in the process. But he scarcely noticed. He played the tip of one shoe over the hole, determining that it was indeed empty air. And finally, Corey plugged his nose and took the plunge, leaping feet first into the hole.

The journey was instantaneous. Corey had been on Earth and now simply wasn’t. But then of course, he wasn’t sure he was in Neverland either.

…the hell?

Corey looked around him and all he could see was a thick pearlescent fog. Sticking out his hand, he weaved his fingers through it and the fog parted like a cloud. Corey couldn’t see more than, he would surmise, five feet in any direction.

Where is this?

Corey had never once experienced this in all his trips to Neverland with Pan. A cold chill raced up his spine. Had he somehow fucked this up? Landing himself in some “in between” space from which there would be no escape? With that sobering thought, Corey did the only thing he could think to do.

Hello? HELLO?! Is anyone out there?

But there was no reply. So, bereft of options, Corey decided to settle on a direction and start walking. But all he was met with was more of the ceaseless fog.

HELLO?! He called again. And this time, he thought he could vaguely make out a sound in response. But it was distant and muffled, like someone trying to play the telephone game underwater. Hey, say that again!  And again, he heard that same vague reply. Corey tried to parse the direction he heard it in, but it was difficult as the environs had a stutifying effect on the senses. He could see how someone, exposed to this environment over a period of time, could start to go insane.

No, Corey, don’t even go there. He mentally chastized himself as he set off in a direction.

Corey walked.

And walked.

And walked.

Every so often he called out again, and each time the response seemed to be the same distance away. Corey swallowed, trying to stem a rising tide of panic. Were his senses betraying him? Was he hearing anything at all? Or was that the whole point of this…whatever it was. To drive whoever is unfortunate enough to find their way there crazy.

HELLO! Corey barked, more insistent this time.

Hello.

And now, the response was more distinct. A “hello”. It occurred to Corey then that he might just be hearing an echo, another depraved game this place was playing on him. But the voice sounded different than his, masculine, but huskier.

Hey, keep talking!

Where are you? The voice sounded like it was traveling over a quarter mile, faint as it was. Corey had to focus intently on what he was hearing to make it out.

Just follow the sound of my voice! I’m going to stay still. You come to me! Corey yelled. Then, to keep the momentum going, he would punctuate the air with a “Here” periodically so the other could find his way to him.

And finally, progress was made. Through the mists Corey could scarcely make out a figure approaching him. The person was tall, very tall. And slim.

Hey, I see you! Keep following my voice!

The figure kept drawing closer, and closer, until he arrived within Corey’s field of vision. Corey couldnt help but gape at what he saw. No, no, it can’t be…



The man, whose eyes were deep set and haunted, smiled an awkward unsettling sort of smile.

My name is Captain Amadeus Hook. And it is very, very good to see you.