Post by Jonny Fly on Jan 12, 2012 22:05:49 GMT -5
thedynastyjonnyfly.webs.com/fly1.htm
SCENE BEGINS
The camera fades in with only one image in our sight. The face of Jonny Fly pushed as close to a camera lens as humanly possible, without touching it. We're unable to see anything from the neck down. Fly has a giant smile on his face and begins speaking to us.
JF: I've decided to do this promo as a close up. I would like the entire WCF roster to take a look at this face. Notice, no bruises, no cuts, nothing. Now look even closer. What you are looking at is the image of the future. Slowly, surely, this very face is being seen on WCF billboards, merchandise, promotions, advertisements, EVERYTHING. This is the image of what the Wrestling Championship Federation is becoming. This is the image of perfection, dominance, and superiority all packaged together in absurdly attractive flesh.
This is the image of...The Dynasty. I am taking over.
When I entered this company it was a proverbial 'old boys club.' Everyone who entered into the company was seen as an outsider, not worthy of anyone else's time. All anyone ever talked about was their past. Everyone made a big deal about former stars gracing us with their presence here and there. I'm the man who came in and promised that it would change. I'm the one who made a call out to the entire company this change was upon them.. I even gave you a timeline of when this would happen. Did any of you listen? Did you even bother to look up from your 2008 photo album and realize what I am capable of?
Of course not. Wrestlers aren't known for being very smart. That's why I've been able to put turn this place inside out in 7 weeks. Every..single..fucking.. week I ask my opponents to give me their best. I explain to them in simple words; I'm the best wrestler they'll ever see. I tell them they're going to lose..and they do. They will continue to. It's time to stop worshiping the past. If someone wants to be a part of the Era of Jonny Fly, let them. If you want to show up here and there, take valuable television time, and talk about how relevant you once were, fuck you. Someone give these individuals a message from me; stop being a bitch and come here and wrestle. Wrestle me. Wrestle the man that is in the process of breaking all your 'records,' topping all of your 'accomplishments,' and making you all as irrelevant as you should be.
This is where we are at within the WCF right now. We are turning the page on years of mediocrity. Everyone is now expected to work at a higher standard; to strive for excellence. If you don't, or can't, you will be passed over and forgotten. You will be left on the side of the road, stranded, watching as I win match after match...title after title...time after time. Stop thinking that this can be stopped. It can't. I'm coming for all of you.
This week, on Friday the 13th, I'm facing Corey Black, Jay Price, Greenfever, and D-Day at VIII. Apparently, VIII is Corey Black's event, so we'll see how that works out for my team. It doesn't matter though, I'm going in to this match with only one mission; to trounce four wrestlers who I consider part of the old guard. I've never even heard of Greenfever. D-Day is the United States Champion, but I've already destroyed him. Jay Price was apparently dead, and his two appearances since being re-born have closed out shows. WHY? Nobody gives a fuck about whatever the hell Jay Price had going on three years ago. For the love of god Price, be original. Calling for war against the owner is beyond useless and cliché. Get the fuck off of my television. Corey Black is the World Champion. A ten year veteran here in the WCF. Who gives a fuck? I don't know anything about Nathan von Liebert, other than the fact he beat four mediocre wrestlers and somehow got a World Title shot out of it, but here's to hoping he ends Blacks reign before someone notices he's representing us.
I have very little to say about my own team. One of them, Gage Gannon, I have to turn around and face two days later at Slam. I have no allies in this industry, and if I did, I doubt they would be the likes of Gannon, Gravedigger, and Balfore. By nature I have very little respect for anyone who is not..well..me. That attitude has helped me become extremely successfully, and it isn't going to change. I will commend Balfore for selecting me for his team. It should have been more obvious, but I'll take it. I'm worried about Odin, though, he can't be in good spirits right now. He thought he was a shoo in for a shot to get his World Title back. Yet, the powers that be had a different idea. Apparently he's retiring at the end of the week due to that series of events. In the face of adversity, there are two types of people. Some people slump their shoulders, crawl into a corner, and pity themselves. Others will come back better than before. Some people thrive off adversity. Some people get pissed, and the best comes out of them. Looks like Odin picked option one. Whatever.
There are thousands upon thousands of wrestlers running around this country hoping that they..one day..can even land a professional contract. Balfore had his moment, and now it's gone. That's the nature of this business, it's brutal, it's honest, and it evolves quickly. I'm not going to debate that the things that happened during that match. I don't give a fuck. The very essence of this War Games match was as a medium for Odin to get revenge. I doubt we get it; he's mentally checked out. Yeah, he's the true leader all of us need! Give me a break, I pave the way for myself. Nobody wins my fucking matches for me. I'm this god damn good by myself. I hope that the rest of my team brings their best to this match. This is War Games. This isn't a fuckin' dark match against Tek. These are the matches we all wrestle to compete in. At Slam, Gravedigger talked about how he's proven himself as a champion because he beat...Ryan Blake. No, Gravedigger, Ryan Blake doesn't count for a god damn thing. Ryan Blake isn't the measuring stick. You were handed that belt, THIS is your match to prove that you still got it. This is your stage to show that your not like the others, that your not only a successful wrestler in the past, but you're also a part of the future. I can guarantee my team this; I won't submit. I'll never quit. I will walk out of that cage on both of my damn feet after inflicting a type of pain on Price, Black, Greenfever, and D-Day that they have never seen before. I'm looking forward to it.
Take one last look at me. I'll be seeing all of you soon.
Fly pulls back from the screen and disappears. The scene fades out.
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
The scene begins with the camera being shaken. Through the moving picture we can see four people sitting in chairs inside of a room, but the camera continues moving. We hear a ‘god dammit’ and then the camera falls to the ground. It’s picked back up; the scene shakes back and forth once again, and then finally settles in. We are looking at four men, all of them nicely dressed, and holding portfolio folders. We are inside a well-furnished room but unable to see most of our surroundings. From behind us a large figure emerges and sets up a chair in-front of the camera. The person sits down, and then turns his body to face the camera lens. As he does this, we see that the man in front of us is WCF Television Champion Jonny Fly. He smiles at the camera and remarks:
Fly: Hello! As you can see behind me I’ve brought four men into my home today to interview for a job. These four people in front of me will be interviewing to become my “manager.” To handle my personal affairs while I’m busy creating my legacy. I’ve decided to film these interviews, and you’ll all have a chance to watch the footage!
Fly smiles, and then turns back to the four individuals in front of him. Fly has positioned the camera so that we can see all four of the men being interviewed, as well as Fly himself at the bottom corner of the screen. Upon closer inspection all four of the men in the room are white males, no more than 30 years old, and all of them look just a little bit nervous. Fly begins to speak to them.
You four have been selected to come here from an applicant pool of nearly 7 billion people!
The four applicants look at Fly puzzled at the obvious joke. The one farthest to the right interjects himself.
Um, sir, that’s..like..the total number of people in the world.
Fly snaps his neck toward the man and just stares at him for a good twenty seconds before responding coldly.
I……know. What, you don’t think every single person in this world wouldn’t love to have this job? There isn’t a person alive who wouldn’t want to be this close to perfection! I’m Jonny fuckin’ Fly! I’m peerless in this industry, and you guys have a chance to be a part of the most dominating reign of a wrestler in history. Now, why don’t you do me a favor and get the fuck out of my house. You’re no longer under consideration for this position.
The guy looks at Fly dumbfounded before slowly getting up from his seat and walking across the picture out of the screen. Fly stares him down as he leaves before turning his attention back to the three individuals in front of him.
Honestly, I didn’t read any of the information you three sent me about this opening. I strictly picked you all on your names alone. Honestly, you have a good name, a good brand, to be in this industry. Let me have each of you introduce yourselves to each other. Let’s start with you on the left and go down the line.
The guy on the far left begins to speak.
My name is Rusty Kuntz…
Fly interrupts with a loud shrill of laughter. Positioned behind him the camera can’t see his face, but he’s bent his head over and hitting his leg laughing. After a couple more seconds he composes himself and motions for the applicant to continue.
…I’m an amateur wrestler here in New York City. I went to college as a scholarship wrestler at New York State where I…
Okay, that’s enough, save some time for the others, jeez. I’m not going to be picking you by any of that bullshit anyway. Okay, next guy..
The guy in the middle of the three applicants looks at Fly and begins talking.
Yea, my name is Michael Lit, or Mike for short. I’m a motivational speaker for large….
Wait, so you’re actually telling me I get to call you Mike Lit.
…well, yea, most Michael’s are just called Mike because it’s easier..
Fly again starts laughing hysterically.
Oh man, this is just too good. I was hoping you would say that. Third guy, what’s your name?
My name is Phillip Heruterus and I’ve actually been a manager for a professional wrestler before.
Let me guess, it was a female wrestler?
What?
Fly starts laughing again and hitting his leg. He forces himself to stop.
Oh, man, that was great. Thank you to all three of you. Let me tell you a little bit about what is going to be expected of you. First thing, the sole purpose of this job is to have someone take care of my shit. You will pack my bags for the shows, carry them wherever the fuck we’re going, you’ll make me food, get my alcohol, you’ll drive me around wherever I need to go, you’ll pay for my hookers, you’ll deposit my obscenely large paychecks, you’ll serve as my legal counsel…so read up, you’ll clean this ridiculously large house on a weekly basis, you’ll send any communications I need sent to WCF headquarters, you’ll be my weekly wrestling practice dummy, you’ll scout my opponents, you won’t even dare eat any of my food or sleep at my house, and you’ll be paid mostly like shit for all of this. On the flip side, I’ve made the concession of allowing you to be on television with me…occasionally…at shows.
The three applicants stare at Fly, trying to see if he’s being serious or not. All three move from gazing at Fly to each other, not sure what to say. Fly fills the silence void by continuing.
Obviously, this is going to be a great gig for one of the three of you. Other than your names, which are all spectacular, there is only one other thing that I will be using to determine who I will hire. You have to be able to talk the talk. The wrestling industry isn't for fucking pussies, and I don't want someone like that following me around. The key for me is to get people's blood boiling. I don't have any problem telling someone who sucks, they suck. I don't have problem telling someone that I'm going to face just how I'm going to beat them. I..want..the..hate. I want the reaction. I don't want my opponents even thinking straight when they get into the ring with me. They're all too stupid to realize it, but it gives me an advantage. Plus, hey, when you're as successful as I have been, it's only natural that you parade it around. Now, I have two matches this week, and we're going to go downstairs and you guys are going to cut fake promos in the ring to test your skills. Follow me...
Fly gets up from his seat and motions for the three men to follow him. Fly grabs the camera on his way and walks out of the room The camera is facing down, and all that we can see are Fly's feet walking down a tile hallway. Finally he stops and we hear the noise of a door opening. Fly walks forward onto a different surface. The three men with him can be heard entering and shortly after the doors are closed. We begin dropping and before we can even realize we are on an elevator the doors have opened and Fly raises the camera horizontally so that we are once again introduced to the wrestling arena that serves as his basement. We begin moving down the staircase below the platform where we stand toward the ring. After nearly 30 rows, we reach ringside and Fly opens a gate leading toward the ring. He motions for the three men with him to get into the ring and then slides in himself. The camera begins to shake again as Fly sets it up onto the turnbuckle and ties it down. Our screen once again has a full view of the three applicants, and Fly enters the picture soon after.
Alright, Phillip Heruterus your first. I'm going to give you a situation related to the current happenings surrounding me in WCF and you have to use that cut a promo. Make sure you speak to that camera behind me. Remember, your not me, obviously. Your talking as my manager. Do your own thing. Okay, Phillip, you just watched me beat Switches the Clown to defend the Television Title. Comment.
Fly points at Phillip and then moves out of the frame. Phillip walks forward in the ring and looks into the camera and begins speaking.
Yea, so, what do you have to say now Switches? Looks like..um..looks like you lost to my man Jonny Fly. Who wouldn't? He's so good at wrestling, he's so much better than you! Your just a twisted clown freak. Why are you even a wrestler? Nobody even likes PCP! Right? Right??? Hell I don't know. I tell you what, why don't you just get into your stupid little van and find the nearest birthday party or something. The next time you see Jonny Fly you better make him one of those stupid balloon animals or something so he doesn't hit you in the face! Yea, how do you like Switches, you little bitch! Fly will hit you in the face!
Fly, hearing enough, walks back into the picture and motions for Phillip to stop talking.
That was....fucking....dreadful. Seriously, my ears are bleeding. What did I tell you upstairs? You guys have to make people's blood boil. You have to get them to want to jump off their chair, come through the television, and fight you right then and there. If I was Switches I would literally be rolling on the ground laughing at you, and laughing at me for letting you represent me. Go stand in the corner of the ring and think about how much you suck at this.
Phillip Heruterus scowls at Fly and then walks out of the screen. Fly motions for Mike Lit to step into the picture.
Okay, Mike, your on. The situation is that I've just handed you the card for Slam next week. You notice that I'm facing Gage Gannon, who I'll be teaming with at XIII two days earlier. Comment into the camera.
Mike walks toward the camera. Simultaneously Fly exits the picture and Mike begins to talk.
Well, this promises to be interesting. I really respect Gage Gannon, and I know he will have Jonny's back at VIII. I really think that Gage and Jonny will work well together, and then like true sportsman, will compete admirably at Slam against each other. I say let the best man win....
Fly again interrupts by walking into the picture and motioning for Mike Lit to stop talking.
No fucking wonder your name is Mike Lit. I tell you what, go massage your vagina next to that other idiot. Who the fuck talks like that? May the best person win?? IS THERE A QUESTION WHO THE BEST PERSON IS? Is that what you're saying? Do you really think I won't beat the fuck out of Gage Gannon at XIII even if I just feel like it?
Fly moves toward Mike Lit. Lit holds up his hand and moves backward out of the screen in the direction of where Phillip Heruterus went. Fly puts his hand on his head and quickly looks at the last person left, Rusty Kuntz.
I swear to god if you're as bad as the other two, just get the fuck out of this ring right now. I don't think I can take anymore of that junk. Let's go through this one more time. I'm Jonny Fly. I'm god's gift to the wrestling industry. I have unmatched talent and skill, and a background that is unparalleled. I'm taking over the WCF one..match..at..a..time. I can't be stopped. Do you understand what I am telling you? Do you understand your responsibilities as a representative of me, how you should talk, how you should act?
I do. I can do this. I'm the right person for this job.
Alright, here's the situation. I'm facing Corey Black, Greenfever, Jay Price, and D-Day at XIII. The match is War Games style, and my team is Odin Balfore, Gravedigger, and Gage Gannon. All I want you to do is discuss the match just as if you were being interviewed about it.
Gotcha..
Rusty Kuntz moves toward the camera and begins speaking.
Well, it's almost time for War Games. The match everyone is waiting for. Let me be the one to quell this bullshit that this is Fly's chance to 'prove himself.' The ignorance of the WCF wrestlers runs deep, indeed. Fly's already beat D-Day, and Jay Price and Greenfever are nothing but has-beens. In this industry they are nothing. Just guys who think they were important once upon a time. Corey Black is the World Champion, but he's going to see a better opponent at XIII than he's ever come across in his ten years in the WCF. He may doubt this, as have others, but it's a fact that everyone is slowly beginning to understand...one match at a time. Someone tell Odin Balfore, as a group, Fly doesn't need to prove anything to these guys. He doesn't need to prove anything to Odin either.
Odin's a teammate of Fly's in this match, so I'll let him off easy. That doesn't mean he should think he's giving Fly any opportunity here. This was all-business, Fly's the best guy Odin could pick and that's the end of it. Being ignorant of that fact makes him no different than the people here who he condemns. Fly's not a mid-carder, he's more decorated than you, Odin. Get three more World Titles and then maybe talking down to him like that will hold more weight. Gage Gannon is a scrub. Who the fuck cares what he does in this match. It's clear now to me why he's in this match after listening to Odin speak earlier. Odin's a fucking idiot, so is Gage, makes perfect sense he's in the match. Then there's Gravedigger, whatever, I'm bored just saying his name. I think this match would be better if we made it three times. Corey Black's crew of retreads versus Odin Balfore's team of wrestlers he thinks give a shit about him, versus Jonny Fly.
Solo. One man versus seven. I can tell you think, Jonny will take those odds any day, especially considering who those seven are.
Rusty smiles into the camera and looks over as Fly walks into the camera's screen. Fly stares at Rusty, and there is an awkward silence as Kuntz awaits Fly's response to his speech. Fly slowly brings his hands together and begins clapping.
That's what I fucking like to see! You're hired.
Fly looks over at Mike Lit and Phillip Heruterus.
You two show your way out.
Fly looks back toward Rusty Kuntz.
Your going to begin this week. We have a trip to bumfuck Iowa very soon, so start packing my shit. Also, we need to change your name.
What? I thought my name was the reasons you brought me here?
Well, yea. I just wanted to see whose parents hated their sons enough to call them Mike Lit, Phillip Heruterus, and Rusty Kuntz. Seriously, how fucked up was your childhood....nevermind. Regardless, I can't take you anywhere with that name. Your new name is now simply....Jonny Fly's Manager, or JFM for short.
That's my name? I have to go by that?
Fly sticks out his hand.
Welcome to the team! Get to work, bitch.
The previously named Rusty Kuntz reluctantly reaches out and grasps Fly's hand. Fly smiles and then turns around and walks toward the camera. After a couple seconds of reaching around the camera it shuts off and the scene ends.
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
The camera fades in with only one image in our sight. The face of Jonny Fly pushed as close to a camera lens as humanly possible, without touching it. We're unable to see anything from the neck down. Fly has a giant smile on his face and begins speaking to us.
JF: I've decided to do this promo as a close up. I would like the entire WCF roster to take a look at this face. Notice, no bruises, no cuts, nothing. Now look even closer. What you are looking at is the image of the future. Slowly, surely, this very face is being seen on WCF billboards, merchandise, promotions, advertisements, EVERYTHING. This is the image of what the Wrestling Championship Federation is becoming. This is the image of perfection, dominance, and superiority all packaged together in absurdly attractive flesh.
This is the image of...The Dynasty. I am taking over.
When I entered this company it was a proverbial 'old boys club.' Everyone who entered into the company was seen as an outsider, not worthy of anyone else's time. All anyone ever talked about was their past. Everyone made a big deal about former stars gracing us with their presence here and there. I'm the man who came in and promised that it would change. I'm the one who made a call out to the entire company this change was upon them.. I even gave you a timeline of when this would happen. Did any of you listen? Did you even bother to look up from your 2008 photo album and realize what I am capable of?
Of course not. Wrestlers aren't known for being very smart. That's why I've been able to put turn this place inside out in 7 weeks. Every..single..fucking.. week I ask my opponents to give me their best. I explain to them in simple words; I'm the best wrestler they'll ever see. I tell them they're going to lose..and they do. They will continue to. It's time to stop worshiping the past. If someone wants to be a part of the Era of Jonny Fly, let them. If you want to show up here and there, take valuable television time, and talk about how relevant you once were, fuck you. Someone give these individuals a message from me; stop being a bitch and come here and wrestle. Wrestle me. Wrestle the man that is in the process of breaking all your 'records,' topping all of your 'accomplishments,' and making you all as irrelevant as you should be.
This is where we are at within the WCF right now. We are turning the page on years of mediocrity. Everyone is now expected to work at a higher standard; to strive for excellence. If you don't, or can't, you will be passed over and forgotten. You will be left on the side of the road, stranded, watching as I win match after match...title after title...time after time. Stop thinking that this can be stopped. It can't. I'm coming for all of you.
This week, on Friday the 13th, I'm facing Corey Black, Jay Price, Greenfever, and D-Day at VIII. Apparently, VIII is Corey Black's event, so we'll see how that works out for my team. It doesn't matter though, I'm going in to this match with only one mission; to trounce four wrestlers who I consider part of the old guard. I've never even heard of Greenfever. D-Day is the United States Champion, but I've already destroyed him. Jay Price was apparently dead, and his two appearances since being re-born have closed out shows. WHY? Nobody gives a fuck about whatever the hell Jay Price had going on three years ago. For the love of god Price, be original. Calling for war against the owner is beyond useless and cliché. Get the fuck off of my television. Corey Black is the World Champion. A ten year veteran here in the WCF. Who gives a fuck? I don't know anything about Nathan von Liebert, other than the fact he beat four mediocre wrestlers and somehow got a World Title shot out of it, but here's to hoping he ends Blacks reign before someone notices he's representing us.
I have very little to say about my own team. One of them, Gage Gannon, I have to turn around and face two days later at Slam. I have no allies in this industry, and if I did, I doubt they would be the likes of Gannon, Gravedigger, and Balfore. By nature I have very little respect for anyone who is not..well..me. That attitude has helped me become extremely successfully, and it isn't going to change. I will commend Balfore for selecting me for his team. It should have been more obvious, but I'll take it. I'm worried about Odin, though, he can't be in good spirits right now. He thought he was a shoo in for a shot to get his World Title back. Yet, the powers that be had a different idea. Apparently he's retiring at the end of the week due to that series of events. In the face of adversity, there are two types of people. Some people slump their shoulders, crawl into a corner, and pity themselves. Others will come back better than before. Some people thrive off adversity. Some people get pissed, and the best comes out of them. Looks like Odin picked option one. Whatever.
There are thousands upon thousands of wrestlers running around this country hoping that they..one day..can even land a professional contract. Balfore had his moment, and now it's gone. That's the nature of this business, it's brutal, it's honest, and it evolves quickly. I'm not going to debate that the things that happened during that match. I don't give a fuck. The very essence of this War Games match was as a medium for Odin to get revenge. I doubt we get it; he's mentally checked out. Yeah, he's the true leader all of us need! Give me a break, I pave the way for myself. Nobody wins my fucking matches for me. I'm this god damn good by myself. I hope that the rest of my team brings their best to this match. This is War Games. This isn't a fuckin' dark match against Tek. These are the matches we all wrestle to compete in. At Slam, Gravedigger talked about how he's proven himself as a champion because he beat...Ryan Blake. No, Gravedigger, Ryan Blake doesn't count for a god damn thing. Ryan Blake isn't the measuring stick. You were handed that belt, THIS is your match to prove that you still got it. This is your stage to show that your not like the others, that your not only a successful wrestler in the past, but you're also a part of the future. I can guarantee my team this; I won't submit. I'll never quit. I will walk out of that cage on both of my damn feet after inflicting a type of pain on Price, Black, Greenfever, and D-Day that they have never seen before. I'm looking forward to it.
Take one last look at me. I'll be seeing all of you soon.
Fly pulls back from the screen and disappears. The scene fades out.
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
The scene begins with the camera being shaken. Through the moving picture we can see four people sitting in chairs inside of a room, but the camera continues moving. We hear a ‘god dammit’ and then the camera falls to the ground. It’s picked back up; the scene shakes back and forth once again, and then finally settles in. We are looking at four men, all of them nicely dressed, and holding portfolio folders. We are inside a well-furnished room but unable to see most of our surroundings. From behind us a large figure emerges and sets up a chair in-front of the camera. The person sits down, and then turns his body to face the camera lens. As he does this, we see that the man in front of us is WCF Television Champion Jonny Fly. He smiles at the camera and remarks:
Fly: Hello! As you can see behind me I’ve brought four men into my home today to interview for a job. These four people in front of me will be interviewing to become my “manager.” To handle my personal affairs while I’m busy creating my legacy. I’ve decided to film these interviews, and you’ll all have a chance to watch the footage!
Fly smiles, and then turns back to the four individuals in front of him. Fly has positioned the camera so that we can see all four of the men being interviewed, as well as Fly himself at the bottom corner of the screen. Upon closer inspection all four of the men in the room are white males, no more than 30 years old, and all of them look just a little bit nervous. Fly begins to speak to them.
You four have been selected to come here from an applicant pool of nearly 7 billion people!
The four applicants look at Fly puzzled at the obvious joke. The one farthest to the right interjects himself.
Um, sir, that’s..like..the total number of people in the world.
Fly snaps his neck toward the man and just stares at him for a good twenty seconds before responding coldly.
I……know. What, you don’t think every single person in this world wouldn’t love to have this job? There isn’t a person alive who wouldn’t want to be this close to perfection! I’m Jonny fuckin’ Fly! I’m peerless in this industry, and you guys have a chance to be a part of the most dominating reign of a wrestler in history. Now, why don’t you do me a favor and get the fuck out of my house. You’re no longer under consideration for this position.
The guy looks at Fly dumbfounded before slowly getting up from his seat and walking across the picture out of the screen. Fly stares him down as he leaves before turning his attention back to the three individuals in front of him.
Honestly, I didn’t read any of the information you three sent me about this opening. I strictly picked you all on your names alone. Honestly, you have a good name, a good brand, to be in this industry. Let me have each of you introduce yourselves to each other. Let’s start with you on the left and go down the line.
The guy on the far left begins to speak.
My name is Rusty Kuntz…
Fly interrupts with a loud shrill of laughter. Positioned behind him the camera can’t see his face, but he’s bent his head over and hitting his leg laughing. After a couple more seconds he composes himself and motions for the applicant to continue.
…I’m an amateur wrestler here in New York City. I went to college as a scholarship wrestler at New York State where I…
Okay, that’s enough, save some time for the others, jeez. I’m not going to be picking you by any of that bullshit anyway. Okay, next guy..
The guy in the middle of the three applicants looks at Fly and begins talking.
Yea, my name is Michael Lit, or Mike for short. I’m a motivational speaker for large….
Wait, so you’re actually telling me I get to call you Mike Lit.
…well, yea, most Michael’s are just called Mike because it’s easier..
Fly again starts laughing hysterically.
Oh man, this is just too good. I was hoping you would say that. Third guy, what’s your name?
My name is Phillip Heruterus and I’ve actually been a manager for a professional wrestler before.
Let me guess, it was a female wrestler?
What?
Fly starts laughing again and hitting his leg. He forces himself to stop.
Oh, man, that was great. Thank you to all three of you. Let me tell you a little bit about what is going to be expected of you. First thing, the sole purpose of this job is to have someone take care of my shit. You will pack my bags for the shows, carry them wherever the fuck we’re going, you’ll make me food, get my alcohol, you’ll drive me around wherever I need to go, you’ll pay for my hookers, you’ll deposit my obscenely large paychecks, you’ll serve as my legal counsel…so read up, you’ll clean this ridiculously large house on a weekly basis, you’ll send any communications I need sent to WCF headquarters, you’ll be my weekly wrestling practice dummy, you’ll scout my opponents, you won’t even dare eat any of my food or sleep at my house, and you’ll be paid mostly like shit for all of this. On the flip side, I’ve made the concession of allowing you to be on television with me…occasionally…at shows.
The three applicants stare at Fly, trying to see if he’s being serious or not. All three move from gazing at Fly to each other, not sure what to say. Fly fills the silence void by continuing.
Obviously, this is going to be a great gig for one of the three of you. Other than your names, which are all spectacular, there is only one other thing that I will be using to determine who I will hire. You have to be able to talk the talk. The wrestling industry isn't for fucking pussies, and I don't want someone like that following me around. The key for me is to get people's blood boiling. I don't have any problem telling someone who sucks, they suck. I don't have problem telling someone that I'm going to face just how I'm going to beat them. I..want..the..hate. I want the reaction. I don't want my opponents even thinking straight when they get into the ring with me. They're all too stupid to realize it, but it gives me an advantage. Plus, hey, when you're as successful as I have been, it's only natural that you parade it around. Now, I have two matches this week, and we're going to go downstairs and you guys are going to cut fake promos in the ring to test your skills. Follow me...
Fly gets up from his seat and motions for the three men to follow him. Fly grabs the camera on his way and walks out of the room The camera is facing down, and all that we can see are Fly's feet walking down a tile hallway. Finally he stops and we hear the noise of a door opening. Fly walks forward onto a different surface. The three men with him can be heard entering and shortly after the doors are closed. We begin dropping and before we can even realize we are on an elevator the doors have opened and Fly raises the camera horizontally so that we are once again introduced to the wrestling arena that serves as his basement. We begin moving down the staircase below the platform where we stand toward the ring. After nearly 30 rows, we reach ringside and Fly opens a gate leading toward the ring. He motions for the three men with him to get into the ring and then slides in himself. The camera begins to shake again as Fly sets it up onto the turnbuckle and ties it down. Our screen once again has a full view of the three applicants, and Fly enters the picture soon after.
Alright, Phillip Heruterus your first. I'm going to give you a situation related to the current happenings surrounding me in WCF and you have to use that cut a promo. Make sure you speak to that camera behind me. Remember, your not me, obviously. Your talking as my manager. Do your own thing. Okay, Phillip, you just watched me beat Switches the Clown to defend the Television Title. Comment.
Fly points at Phillip and then moves out of the frame. Phillip walks forward in the ring and looks into the camera and begins speaking.
Yea, so, what do you have to say now Switches? Looks like..um..looks like you lost to my man Jonny Fly. Who wouldn't? He's so good at wrestling, he's so much better than you! Your just a twisted clown freak. Why are you even a wrestler? Nobody even likes PCP! Right? Right??? Hell I don't know. I tell you what, why don't you just get into your stupid little van and find the nearest birthday party or something. The next time you see Jonny Fly you better make him one of those stupid balloon animals or something so he doesn't hit you in the face! Yea, how do you like Switches, you little bitch! Fly will hit you in the face!
Fly, hearing enough, walks back into the picture and motions for Phillip to stop talking.
That was....fucking....dreadful. Seriously, my ears are bleeding. What did I tell you upstairs? You guys have to make people's blood boil. You have to get them to want to jump off their chair, come through the television, and fight you right then and there. If I was Switches I would literally be rolling on the ground laughing at you, and laughing at me for letting you represent me. Go stand in the corner of the ring and think about how much you suck at this.
Phillip Heruterus scowls at Fly and then walks out of the screen. Fly motions for Mike Lit to step into the picture.
Okay, Mike, your on. The situation is that I've just handed you the card for Slam next week. You notice that I'm facing Gage Gannon, who I'll be teaming with at XIII two days earlier. Comment into the camera.
Mike walks toward the camera. Simultaneously Fly exits the picture and Mike begins to talk.
Well, this promises to be interesting. I really respect Gage Gannon, and I know he will have Jonny's back at VIII. I really think that Gage and Jonny will work well together, and then like true sportsman, will compete admirably at Slam against each other. I say let the best man win....
Fly again interrupts by walking into the picture and motioning for Mike Lit to stop talking.
No fucking wonder your name is Mike Lit. I tell you what, go massage your vagina next to that other idiot. Who the fuck talks like that? May the best person win?? IS THERE A QUESTION WHO THE BEST PERSON IS? Is that what you're saying? Do you really think I won't beat the fuck out of Gage Gannon at XIII even if I just feel like it?
Fly moves toward Mike Lit. Lit holds up his hand and moves backward out of the screen in the direction of where Phillip Heruterus went. Fly puts his hand on his head and quickly looks at the last person left, Rusty Kuntz.
I swear to god if you're as bad as the other two, just get the fuck out of this ring right now. I don't think I can take anymore of that junk. Let's go through this one more time. I'm Jonny Fly. I'm god's gift to the wrestling industry. I have unmatched talent and skill, and a background that is unparalleled. I'm taking over the WCF one..match..at..a..time. I can't be stopped. Do you understand what I am telling you? Do you understand your responsibilities as a representative of me, how you should talk, how you should act?
I do. I can do this. I'm the right person for this job.
Alright, here's the situation. I'm facing Corey Black, Greenfever, Jay Price, and D-Day at XIII. The match is War Games style, and my team is Odin Balfore, Gravedigger, and Gage Gannon. All I want you to do is discuss the match just as if you were being interviewed about it.
Gotcha..
Rusty Kuntz moves toward the camera and begins speaking.
Well, it's almost time for War Games. The match everyone is waiting for. Let me be the one to quell this bullshit that this is Fly's chance to 'prove himself.' The ignorance of the WCF wrestlers runs deep, indeed. Fly's already beat D-Day, and Jay Price and Greenfever are nothing but has-beens. In this industry they are nothing. Just guys who think they were important once upon a time. Corey Black is the World Champion, but he's going to see a better opponent at XIII than he's ever come across in his ten years in the WCF. He may doubt this, as have others, but it's a fact that everyone is slowly beginning to understand...one match at a time. Someone tell Odin Balfore, as a group, Fly doesn't need to prove anything to these guys. He doesn't need to prove anything to Odin either.
Odin's a teammate of Fly's in this match, so I'll let him off easy. That doesn't mean he should think he's giving Fly any opportunity here. This was all-business, Fly's the best guy Odin could pick and that's the end of it. Being ignorant of that fact makes him no different than the people here who he condemns. Fly's not a mid-carder, he's more decorated than you, Odin. Get three more World Titles and then maybe talking down to him like that will hold more weight. Gage Gannon is a scrub. Who the fuck cares what he does in this match. It's clear now to me why he's in this match after listening to Odin speak earlier. Odin's a fucking idiot, so is Gage, makes perfect sense he's in the match. Then there's Gravedigger, whatever, I'm bored just saying his name. I think this match would be better if we made it three times. Corey Black's crew of retreads versus Odin Balfore's team of wrestlers he thinks give a shit about him, versus Jonny Fly.
Solo. One man versus seven. I can tell you think, Jonny will take those odds any day, especially considering who those seven are.
Rusty smiles into the camera and looks over as Fly walks into the camera's screen. Fly stares at Rusty, and there is an awkward silence as Kuntz awaits Fly's response to his speech. Fly slowly brings his hands together and begins clapping.
That's what I fucking like to see! You're hired.
Fly looks over at Mike Lit and Phillip Heruterus.
You two show your way out.
Fly looks back toward Rusty Kuntz.
Your going to begin this week. We have a trip to bumfuck Iowa very soon, so start packing my shit. Also, we need to change your name.
What? I thought my name was the reasons you brought me here?
Well, yea. I just wanted to see whose parents hated their sons enough to call them Mike Lit, Phillip Heruterus, and Rusty Kuntz. Seriously, how fucked up was your childhood....nevermind. Regardless, I can't take you anywhere with that name. Your new name is now simply....Jonny Fly's Manager, or JFM for short.
That's my name? I have to go by that?
Fly sticks out his hand.
Welcome to the team! Get to work, bitch.
The previously named Rusty Kuntz reluctantly reaches out and grasps Fly's hand. Fly smiles and then turns around and walks toward the camera. After a couple seconds of reaching around the camera it shuts off and the scene ends.
SCENE ENDS
