Post by Jonny Fly on Sept 25, 2012 16:24:56 GMT -5
[Begin Narrator]
You may not have seen it, but a great wrestler left the WCF last week.
The company has changed dramatically by his exit. Let there be no mistake, it wasn’t a mutual exit. It was done by force. It was done by poisoning the mind of one of the WCF’s most prideful superstars. He hasn’t left in body, but he has left in mind. Ladies and gentlemen, the WCF is changing. The machinations are in progress. The pieces are in motion.
It’s not changing for the better, I’m sorry to say. A dark cloud has emerged over the entire roster. This isn’t some standard cliché mystery message, this is the truth. I know who the antagonist is, and so should you if you think hard enough about it. Who else would it be? Who has the most to gain from forcing great wrestlers out of the company? This is just the first blow, of what will be many. Very soon the WCF will enter utter and unequivocal turmoil. This is something that is bigger than any one wrestler, bigger than any titles, this is bigger than WAR.
Remember this message as a warning.
[End Narrator]
[Begin Scene]
The scene begins with Jonny Fly’s beautiful face plastered on our television screen.
Jonny Fly: Hello, War.
As the majority of the Wrestling Championship Federation prepares itself to battle against one another in the biggest event of the year, I’ve earned the right to be the guy up top on a perch looking down on them. At this point in the week everyone thinks they can win War. They’re all going to tell you why they can outlast one another and go on and on about how great they are. I don’t buy any of it. The only reason those guys are in War is because they’re not good enough to be the World Champion going INTO War. Now they’re all left with jockeying for a very unenviable position. It’s a damn shame that this many wrestlers are going to put their heart and soul into a match that rewards them with a World Title shot…against a man they have no hope in hell of beating.
Let there be no mistake about it, that man is me. It’s not going to be Waylon Cash or FPV. I’m not a man that you want to bet against. I don’t lose. I’m not going to lose to FPV or Waylon Cash and the man lucky enough to win War will take all their momentum and watch me crush him back down to irrelevance. Sure, the winner of War gains some prestige, but so will the man that beats the winner of War at One. Chances are whoever wins is going to be someone I’ve already beaten. We’re going to build up a match for three fucking months just to watch some scrub do what he’s done before, what everyone does, lose to Jonny Fly. The only difference is that this is going to come on the biggest stage this company offers. Lucky them. The entire world will get to watch their failure.
I want to thank Seth Lerch for gift-wrapping another World Title defense for me. First we had Oblivion, the false prophet with the shitty stable, the midcarder elite. Now we have…Waylon Cash? Easiest opponent I’ll have ever defended my title against. Dude just lost a People’s Title match, followed it up with a loss to Tek, and now he’s fighting for the World Title. Uh, no. Not going to lose to that fucking guy. FPV? Lost his World Title to Waylon Cash, enough said. At this rate I may be the World Champion forever. I’m going to KILL these motherfuckers. Then they’re going to go into War and hope to regain a shot at jobbing all over again. I imagine it’s a pretty vicious world out there when you’re not as talented and skilled as I am.
What can these two really gain in this match? Are they too blind to realize that even the sheer luck of scoring a victory over me would change nothing? I’ve grown so large over the months that a simple loss becomes an event talked about for weeks. FPV and Waylon lose multiple matches a month, and now we’ll get to watch them go on camera and talk about how they can stop me. It’s fucking idiotic. Wake me up when they’re done trying to be someone they most certainly are not; World Champion caliber opponents. For any of my so called ‘losses’ has any one of those guys become Jonny Fly? Is FPV in the midst of the most dominant run in WCF history? Is Jay Price even fucking alive, much less a legitimate bankable every-single-week Main Event wrestler? No, they are not. They won fluke matches and I quickly exposed them as such. That’s my power, that’s my presence. That’s something neither Waylon Cash nor FPV will ever have. I’ve created my legacy in ten months, and it’s a legacy that they’ll never be able to supersede. Who else can say that? If Waylon Cash and FPV drove their cars off a cliff tomorrow and thankfully rid us of their existence, would anyone even remember twelve months from now?
It’s time to come to terms with it. I’m the best wrestler in the world. I’m the man holding all of you down, everyone in the WCF, and there is nothing you can do about it. My biggest critics, your Gravedigger’s, Jay Price’s, Logan’s…they’ve all turned tail and fled, or just had mental breakdowns and turned into a Flyjobbing redhead. It seems like every week I have to listen to some fucking nobody trash-talk me through Lucien Hicks or Twitter. Real smart, talk trash remotely, that’ll surely save you all from the fate that befalls all of my opponents. Everyone says they want a chance to face me, and for those that actually have to face me, they never want to see me in a ring again when it’s over. They are mice running on the wheel. Retired Hall of Famers, or Hall of Fame hopefuls are still talking to me whenever they’re lucky enough to get a microphone shoved in their face. I’ve taken ‘dominant’ World Champions like Odin Balfore and tucked them away neatly in my pocket until I feel like letting them roam free again. ‘Legends’ have found out they can’t compete in the Jonny Fly Era of WCF, so they ‘retire’ to stop further tarnishing of their reputation.
I am everything to everyone. To WCF as a company, I am its crown jewel. I am The Dynasty. The wrestler the world tunes in to watch every single week. I’m not longer compared to wrestlers on this current roster, I’m above them. I’m compared only to those, whose time was before me, men who accomplished less than me, and took longer to do it. Still, these are men whose careers we celebrate to this day, as mine will be. To my opponents, I am motivation. My name across from them on a card sends a tingle down their spines. Wrestlers get ‘up’ to face me. I am the measuring stick, and they fucking know it. To Pantheon, to my friends, I am the enforcer of all that we stand for. Pantheon has struggled recently. Purse took leave, Kid jobbed the People’s Title, Reb missed out on a few opportunities, and Corey Black somehow lost to Oblivion. Nevertheless, there is still one man who has continued to dominate against anyone and everyone put into his way. You can’t kill Pantheon unless you kill its leader, the WCF World Champion, and that’s just not something one single man is capable of doing.
If this week is War, let there be no doubt who the fuckin’ General is. I’m the only man to fear in WCF. I’m the one holding the colors.
War? Psshh.
It won’t be much of one for me. Just another week as the fuckin’ champ.
With that, Jonny Fly disappears from the scene and the scene itself switches.
[Scene Ends]
[Begin Scene]
Seth Lerch wipes a bead of sweat off of his brow as he stares across the table at Jonny Fly. Flanked by his two top lawyers, Seth Lerch wipes his forehead condensation onto his shirt. “You seriously want to renegotiate your contract again,” says Lerch to Fly in an exasperated and questioning manner. Seth Lerch is one unhappy man right now. This impromptu meeting was Fly’s request and the thought of paying Fly more than the five and half million dollars he’s already collecting has him thrown for a complete loop. Jonny Fly looks over at Seth with a scowl on his face. Fly scowling isn’t an unusual sight by any means, but it is in stark contrast to his carefree actions during his previous contract negotiation.
“Yes, and as two gentlemen, I believe we can come to some sort of arrangement without the presence of these lawyers,” Fly shoots back at Lerch. The thought of dealing with the legendarily stubborn WCF World Champion without the help of his top lawyers forces another wave of sweat through Seth Lerch’s pores. As his black hair glistens under the artificial light of the conference room, Seth Lerch makes the gutsy decision to wave for his lawyers to excuse themselves. The two men get up from their seats and walk out. Fly smiles at the sight, and seems amused about the predicament he has his employer in at the moment.
“As the creator of Fly-anthropy I think it’s time I put my money where my mouth is,” Jonny Fly says to Seth Lerch. A dozen thoughts run through Seth Lerch’s mind, none of them too pleasant. He looks into Jonny Fly’s eyes and isn’t sure of how to proceed at this point. Fortunately for him, the man across from him doesn’t seem to be acting like Jonny Fly at all. “I want to reduce my salary to one-hundred thousand dollars,” Fly triumphantly bellows out. Seth Lerch squirms in his seat; still not sure of what is going on. Could this be real, he thinks to himself. Is this a trick? Can Fly actually be giving HIM money back? A decade of business acumen is screaming for Seth to try and sort through what is going on and find the angle that obviously is being played against him.
“What is the purpose of doing that?” Seth exclaims. Lerch’s tone reeks of caution, and the street-smart Jonny Fly does his best to ease his bosses concerns. “I told you Seth, I don’t need the money as much as others,” Fly responds. “However,” Fly continues, “I think you and I should write a check in our names to donate some of that money to charity.” Seth Lerch leans back in his seat. He’s still playing it cool, still fishing for answers. “Why don’t you just donate the money yourself?” returns Lerch. Fly smiles again, not sarcastically, not cockily…happily. He lifts himself up out of his chair and walks around the table toward Seth. The amicable Fly lifts his arm onto the shoulder of the more-than-confused shoulder of Seth Danger Lerch.
“I make too much money, Seth,” Fly bellows out. “It’s not fair and it’s not right.”
Astonished, Seth Lerch stumbles over his next words for a few seconds before simply responding with an ‘okay.’ Seth excitedly reaches for his cell phone in his pocket to call his lawyers back in to write up the paperwork for Fly’s new contract. Knowingly, Fly reacts by placing his hand on Seth’s and shaking his head ‘no.’ Seth looks up confused once again. For a second he begins to think that Fly has played him, but Fly eases his concerns by pulling out a pen from his own pocket. “I’ve already drawn it up, Seth” Fly boasts. Fly reaches into his suit jacket and brings out a folded document, setting it in front of Seth. “No gimmicks, that’s the contract in black and white,” Fly states.
Seth Lerch takes a few seconds and looks over the document, which basically consists of two sentences that merely state that Jonny Fly’s salary from this day forward will be one-hundred thousand dollars per year, with no exceptions and no stipulations. Seth Lerch smiles, and then puts his pen to the paper making it official. “Shall we toast to new beginnings, boss?” Fly’s question receives an approving nod from Seth. “I think we should…buddy,” says Lerch. The two men exchange a handshake and a pat on the back before exiting the room and…
BEEP
BEEP
BEEP
Jonny Fly springs to an upright position in his bed. A look of dread is across his face as he reaches over and shuts off his alarm clock. He brings his hand to his head and rubs his forehead.
Fly: That better have been a dream…
Fly rolls out of the bed and finds his pants from yesterday lying on the ground. He digs in to his pocket and retrieves his IPhone. He presses the button to get SIRI and tells ‘her’ to call ‘douchebag.’ She recites ‘calling douchebag’ and dials the number as Fly sets the phone on speaker mode. A few seconds later Fly’s call is answered by..
Lerch: Seth Lerch speaking!
Fly: Sethopotamus, it’s Fly.
Lerch: Oh. What the fuck do you want, and what is a Sethopotamus?
Fly: It’s a giant piece of shit hippo that dresses in grungy band attire.
Lerch: Are you calling me fat?
Fly: No, of course not. I’m saying you’re semi-aquatic and sometimes people poach you for ivory.
Lerch: What the fuck are you talking about?
Fly: Nevermind all that. Am I still rich?
Lerch: How the hell would I know?
Fly: Okay, new questions, how much are you paying me?
Lerch: (sigh) Five and a half million after your last successful World Title defense, I believe.
Fly: Oh, thank god. Alright, that’s all I need from you. Peace out, slutpie.
Lerch: Hold on a second! Since I have you on the phone, you’re due for your drug test. Get a hold of Dr. Jefferson and get it scheduled immediately.
Fly: What? I just had a drug test!
Lerch: You know my rule. All World Champions are subject to a drug test every two weeks. I won’t have this company represented by someone using any performance enhancing supplements.
Fly: …but yet you gave Waylon Cash and FPV a World Title shot.
Lerch: Deal with it, Fly. Goodbye.
Fly: Whatever, bitch.
Fly hangs up the phone and takes in a deep sigh. He still makes a ridiculous amount of money. Thank god. Anyway, what to do with his day now?
DING, DONG
[/color]
Fly’s gaudy and way-to-loud doorbell rings. Fly throws on his pants and races out of his room, downstairs, and opens the door. Shannan Lerch barges into his house all up in a tizzy about some shit. She brushes past Fly and starts walking toward the living room.
Shannan: We need to talk, Jonny.
Fly takes in a deep sigh before begrudgingly following Shannan into the living room. Skank Lerch plops herself down on the couch and crosses her arms across her tits. Fly takes a seat in a chair across from her and looks at her to initiate the talk.
Shannan: I just got pulled off the street and interrogated by some State Department lady and two FBI agents. Do you know what they wanted to talk about?
Fly knows what they wanted to talk to her about, but decides to make a joke instead.
Fly: You have aids and they want you to stop sleeping with the entire population because you’re infecting everyone? That is murder, technically, I imagine they are very disappointed in you.
Shannan: Incredible. I waste three hours of my day in some room and you’re making jokes about it.
Fly: Three hours? What the hell could you possibly talk about for three hours?
Shannan: Oh, we didn’t talk the whole time…
Fly: Christ, you had sex with them didn’t you!?
Shannan: NO! They made me wait for an hour before talking to me, and then kept leaving when I gave them answers they didn’t like and made me wait even longer.
Fly: What exactly did they ask you?
Shannan: The first thing they wanted to know is whether or not you took me to Bangkok. I told them yes, of course, that we were in love and that you just wanted to take me on a nice trip.
Fly: You know none of that is true, right?
Shannan: Well that’s about the only part they believed of what I told them.
Fly: Oh, fuckin’ great. That better not be made public. If people actually think I like you my reputation would be ruined….ugh…it’s disgusting just to think about.
Shannan: ANYWAY, they asked me about what we did, they asked about where you went, if you were ever alone, who all we met, some general stuff like that.
Fly: What did you tell them?
Shannan: Well I told them we were together the majority of the trip. It was only that one time you ran to the store to pick up some things were we not together.
Fly: What did they say to that?
Shannan: They asked me if I knew for sure whether you went to the store, if you had any bags with you when you came back. I told them that you did, and I was sure that you went to the store. You weren’t gone all that long.
Fly: Good. What else did they ask you about?
Shannan: They asked if we met with anyone, and political officials, anyone at all really. I told them that we didn’t really meet anyone, but were approached at the club by two guys.
Fly: Shannan…
Shannan: I told them we just talked. I didn’t tell them what happened.
Fly: Do you know if you were being recorded?
Shannan: There was a small camera in the corner of the room, yes.
Fly: Then they already know that you were lying. You shouldn’t have lied. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was supposed to get information out of them for the FBI. We’re all on the same team here.
Shannan: Wait, how do they know I lied?
Fly: They’ll analyze the tape, look at your body language, how you react to the questions, how your eyes move, that type of stuff.
Shannan: Jonny, you could at least tell me what is going on. They told me you held a gun up at two men and threatened to kill them. Is that true?
Fly: That is true, but I only did it to find out where you were being held.
Shannan: What? Being held? What are you talking about?
Fly: The two men we were at the table with, it was their people who tried to kidnap you! I threatened them only to find out where you were.
Shannan: As romantic as that sounds, that you would do that for me, I have no idea what you are talking about. I wasn’t kidnapped. The only time I left you was to go get us drinks.
Fly stares across at Shannan looking for any sign that she’s joking. Cautiously he gets up and approaches her. He grabs the front of her shirt and pulls it forward, looking underneath it. Seeing nothing except a face full of tits, he drops to a knee and pulls up her pant legs, one at a time. Again, seeing nothing, he rises back to his feet.
Fly: Tell me the truth, are you wearing a wire right now?
Shannan: What? NO!
Fly: Shannan, the truth…
Shannan: Why in the hell would I have a wire on!
Fly: You were nearly kidnapped. You were put into a van. That happened. I saved you. I don’t know why you’re saying that didn’t happen, Shannan. Have they gotten to you?
Shannan: WHO are you talking about?
Fly: Shannan…explain to me exactly what happened at the club in Bangkok.
Shannan: I’ll tell you what I told the lady from the State Department today. We went there together and were joined at our table with two gentlemen who introduced themselves as political officials in the local government. They were complimenting you on the club, telling you that if was bringing a great deal of money into the city. You asked me to go get us drinks and when I came back you were talking about closing the club down. You don’t remember this?
Fly: I do remember that part, what happened next?
Shannan: Well, you asked me to go get some more drinks and by the time I came back you were pointing a gun at them and people starting screaming and running for the doors. Then you ran to the back, came back a few moments later and wondered where the men went. It was pretty odd.
Fly: You didn’t tell the FBI that part, right?
Shannan: I didn’t tell them about pointing the gun at anyone, no.
Fly scratches his head, not sure what to make of all of this. In his mind he vividly remembers meeting the two men, he remembers the confrontation, and he remembers pulling Shannan Lerch out of a van just before she was about to be taken. Some of this Shannan is confirming but the more dramatic parts she is saying never happened. Fly takes a few steps backwards and returns to his seat.
Fly: Something is wrong here. Am I really losing it?
Shannan: If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think the FBI or anyone else is going to be able to come after you.
Fly: I was there because of the FBI. Why would they even try to come after me? It doesn’t make any sense!
Shannan: Here I thought you just wanted to take me on a trip!
Fly: I didn’t invite you, you followed me. I remember that.
Shannan: Or do you?
Fly: Wait, I did invite you?
Shannan: Of course you did, silly! How would I have known you were going to Bangkok if you didn’t tell me you were going?
Fly: Oh, no. I’ve officially lost it. Fuck.
Fly gets up from his seat and hurriedly moves out of the room as the scene fades.
[Scene Ends]
[Scene Begins]
About two hours after the last scene ended, this scene has begun. Following his conversation with Shannan Lerch, Jonny Fly frantically put in a call to the WCF’s official company doctor. Fly demanded that the good doctor visit him at his house for a check-up, and sent his helicopter to Philadelphia to pick him up immediately. You people do remember that Fly has a helicopter right? Right now the damn thing is landing on top of his mansion. Oh, you didn’t know that the mansion had a helipad? Well it does, because what is a helicopter without someplace to land it? As the helicopter powers down, Fly makes his way via upstairs staircase onto the roof. He helps the doctor out of the helicopter and ushers him into the house. As they make their way downstairs to the living room, the dialogue of the scene begins.
Fly: Dr. Jefferson, thanks again for meeting with me in such short notice. I’m afraid something is really wrong with me.
Dr. Jefferson: I never thought I’d see the day that Jonny Fly of all people got hurt.
Fly: What? Hurt? No, I’m not hurt at all. Something is messed up in my mind.
Dr. Jefferson: You know, Jonny, I have to be honest, people have thought that for a long time.
Fly: No, no, you’re still not getting it. I’m remembering things that didn’t happen.
The doctor looks over at Fly peculiarly. They’ve reached the bottom of the steps leading down to the main floor of the house. They enter the living room and the two of them sit down on the couch to continue their conversation.
Dr. Jefferson: Like, delusions?
Fly: I guess, yeah. You’re the doctor.
Dr. Jefferson: Delusions can be from a number of things. It can be anything from a psychiatric disorder to brain injury that causes it.
Fly: Yeah, neither of those are the cause. I can assure you of that.
Dr. Jefferson: If you’re truly delusional, how could you even know that?
Fly: How would I have a brain injury?
Dr. Jefferson: You’re a professional wrestler, isn’t that obvious?
Fly: Yeah, but I’m a GOOD professional wrestler. I never take any shots. Usually in a match the only time I leave my feet is to pin whoever my opponent is.
Dr. Jefferson: Describe the Fly Swatter to me, how do you perform that move?
Fly: I’ve heard this speech before. The Fly Swatter hasn’t caused brain injury. There is something else going on, doc.
Dr. Jefferson: Perhaps it’s some sort of disorder then.
Fly: No, my genetics are perfect. No chance I have a disorder.
Dr. Jefferson: You sound delusional, that’s for sure.
Fly: Look, it’s hard for me to explain. People are telling me that I didn’t do things I remember doing. This has never happened before, but there is no way I have a brain injury or some disorder.
Dr. Jefferson: Well, you did the right thing in calling me. Most people who are delusional don’t have the mental capacity to realize that something may be off and reach out for help. They can’t wrap their minds around the fact that things they know, or think they know, may not be real. By calling me you’ve already taken the toughest step, getting help. You need to leave it up to me from here to find out what is going on. I want to run some tests on you. I’m going to take some blood, give you a few neurological exams, and we’ll see what we come up with.
Fly: Fine. Let’s just get this over with.
Dr. Jefferson: Hey, while I’m here, how about I go ahead and give you that drug test too? We’re going to be poking the arm anyway, and Seth’s been on me that it’s time for another drug test for you.
Fly: Oh, right. Yeah that’s fine.
Dr. Jefferson reaches into his bag and brings out a needle.
Fly: Whatever happened to just peeing in a cup for these drug tests anyway?
Dr. Jefferson laughs at the comment and grabs hold of Fly’s arm and forces the needle into his vein to draw blood. As the needle fills, the scene fades out.
[Scene Ends]
You may not have seen it, but a great wrestler left the WCF last week.
The company has changed dramatically by his exit. Let there be no mistake, it wasn’t a mutual exit. It was done by force. It was done by poisoning the mind of one of the WCF’s most prideful superstars. He hasn’t left in body, but he has left in mind. Ladies and gentlemen, the WCF is changing. The machinations are in progress. The pieces are in motion.
It’s not changing for the better, I’m sorry to say. A dark cloud has emerged over the entire roster. This isn’t some standard cliché mystery message, this is the truth. I know who the antagonist is, and so should you if you think hard enough about it. Who else would it be? Who has the most to gain from forcing great wrestlers out of the company? This is just the first blow, of what will be many. Very soon the WCF will enter utter and unequivocal turmoil. This is something that is bigger than any one wrestler, bigger than any titles, this is bigger than WAR.
Remember this message as a warning.
[End Narrator]
[Begin Scene]
The scene begins with Jonny Fly’s beautiful face plastered on our television screen.
Jonny Fly: Hello, War.
As the majority of the Wrestling Championship Federation prepares itself to battle against one another in the biggest event of the year, I’ve earned the right to be the guy up top on a perch looking down on them. At this point in the week everyone thinks they can win War. They’re all going to tell you why they can outlast one another and go on and on about how great they are. I don’t buy any of it. The only reason those guys are in War is because they’re not good enough to be the World Champion going INTO War. Now they’re all left with jockeying for a very unenviable position. It’s a damn shame that this many wrestlers are going to put their heart and soul into a match that rewards them with a World Title shot…against a man they have no hope in hell of beating.
Let there be no mistake about it, that man is me. It’s not going to be Waylon Cash or FPV. I’m not a man that you want to bet against. I don’t lose. I’m not going to lose to FPV or Waylon Cash and the man lucky enough to win War will take all their momentum and watch me crush him back down to irrelevance. Sure, the winner of War gains some prestige, but so will the man that beats the winner of War at One. Chances are whoever wins is going to be someone I’ve already beaten. We’re going to build up a match for three fucking months just to watch some scrub do what he’s done before, what everyone does, lose to Jonny Fly. The only difference is that this is going to come on the biggest stage this company offers. Lucky them. The entire world will get to watch their failure.
I want to thank Seth Lerch for gift-wrapping another World Title defense for me. First we had Oblivion, the false prophet with the shitty stable, the midcarder elite. Now we have…Waylon Cash? Easiest opponent I’ll have ever defended my title against. Dude just lost a People’s Title match, followed it up with a loss to Tek, and now he’s fighting for the World Title. Uh, no. Not going to lose to that fucking guy. FPV? Lost his World Title to Waylon Cash, enough said. At this rate I may be the World Champion forever. I’m going to KILL these motherfuckers. Then they’re going to go into War and hope to regain a shot at jobbing all over again. I imagine it’s a pretty vicious world out there when you’re not as talented and skilled as I am.
What can these two really gain in this match? Are they too blind to realize that even the sheer luck of scoring a victory over me would change nothing? I’ve grown so large over the months that a simple loss becomes an event talked about for weeks. FPV and Waylon lose multiple matches a month, and now we’ll get to watch them go on camera and talk about how they can stop me. It’s fucking idiotic. Wake me up when they’re done trying to be someone they most certainly are not; World Champion caliber opponents. For any of my so called ‘losses’ has any one of those guys become Jonny Fly? Is FPV in the midst of the most dominant run in WCF history? Is Jay Price even fucking alive, much less a legitimate bankable every-single-week Main Event wrestler? No, they are not. They won fluke matches and I quickly exposed them as such. That’s my power, that’s my presence. That’s something neither Waylon Cash nor FPV will ever have. I’ve created my legacy in ten months, and it’s a legacy that they’ll never be able to supersede. Who else can say that? If Waylon Cash and FPV drove their cars off a cliff tomorrow and thankfully rid us of their existence, would anyone even remember twelve months from now?
It’s time to come to terms with it. I’m the best wrestler in the world. I’m the man holding all of you down, everyone in the WCF, and there is nothing you can do about it. My biggest critics, your Gravedigger’s, Jay Price’s, Logan’s…they’ve all turned tail and fled, or just had mental breakdowns and turned into a Flyjobbing redhead. It seems like every week I have to listen to some fucking nobody trash-talk me through Lucien Hicks or Twitter. Real smart, talk trash remotely, that’ll surely save you all from the fate that befalls all of my opponents. Everyone says they want a chance to face me, and for those that actually have to face me, they never want to see me in a ring again when it’s over. They are mice running on the wheel. Retired Hall of Famers, or Hall of Fame hopefuls are still talking to me whenever they’re lucky enough to get a microphone shoved in their face. I’ve taken ‘dominant’ World Champions like Odin Balfore and tucked them away neatly in my pocket until I feel like letting them roam free again. ‘Legends’ have found out they can’t compete in the Jonny Fly Era of WCF, so they ‘retire’ to stop further tarnishing of their reputation.
I am everything to everyone. To WCF as a company, I am its crown jewel. I am The Dynasty. The wrestler the world tunes in to watch every single week. I’m not longer compared to wrestlers on this current roster, I’m above them. I’m compared only to those, whose time was before me, men who accomplished less than me, and took longer to do it. Still, these are men whose careers we celebrate to this day, as mine will be. To my opponents, I am motivation. My name across from them on a card sends a tingle down their spines. Wrestlers get ‘up’ to face me. I am the measuring stick, and they fucking know it. To Pantheon, to my friends, I am the enforcer of all that we stand for. Pantheon has struggled recently. Purse took leave, Kid jobbed the People’s Title, Reb missed out on a few opportunities, and Corey Black somehow lost to Oblivion. Nevertheless, there is still one man who has continued to dominate against anyone and everyone put into his way. You can’t kill Pantheon unless you kill its leader, the WCF World Champion, and that’s just not something one single man is capable of doing.
If this week is War, let there be no doubt who the fuckin’ General is. I’m the only man to fear in WCF. I’m the one holding the colors.
War? Psshh.
It won’t be much of one for me. Just another week as the fuckin’ champ.
With that, Jonny Fly disappears from the scene and the scene itself switches.
[Scene Ends]
[Begin Scene]
Seth Lerch wipes a bead of sweat off of his brow as he stares across the table at Jonny Fly. Flanked by his two top lawyers, Seth Lerch wipes his forehead condensation onto his shirt. “You seriously want to renegotiate your contract again,” says Lerch to Fly in an exasperated and questioning manner. Seth Lerch is one unhappy man right now. This impromptu meeting was Fly’s request and the thought of paying Fly more than the five and half million dollars he’s already collecting has him thrown for a complete loop. Jonny Fly looks over at Seth with a scowl on his face. Fly scowling isn’t an unusual sight by any means, but it is in stark contrast to his carefree actions during his previous contract negotiation.
“Yes, and as two gentlemen, I believe we can come to some sort of arrangement without the presence of these lawyers,” Fly shoots back at Lerch. The thought of dealing with the legendarily stubborn WCF World Champion without the help of his top lawyers forces another wave of sweat through Seth Lerch’s pores. As his black hair glistens under the artificial light of the conference room, Seth Lerch makes the gutsy decision to wave for his lawyers to excuse themselves. The two men get up from their seats and walk out. Fly smiles at the sight, and seems amused about the predicament he has his employer in at the moment.
“As the creator of Fly-anthropy I think it’s time I put my money where my mouth is,” Jonny Fly says to Seth Lerch. A dozen thoughts run through Seth Lerch’s mind, none of them too pleasant. He looks into Jonny Fly’s eyes and isn’t sure of how to proceed at this point. Fortunately for him, the man across from him doesn’t seem to be acting like Jonny Fly at all. “I want to reduce my salary to one-hundred thousand dollars,” Fly triumphantly bellows out. Seth Lerch squirms in his seat; still not sure of what is going on. Could this be real, he thinks to himself. Is this a trick? Can Fly actually be giving HIM money back? A decade of business acumen is screaming for Seth to try and sort through what is going on and find the angle that obviously is being played against him.
“What is the purpose of doing that?” Seth exclaims. Lerch’s tone reeks of caution, and the street-smart Jonny Fly does his best to ease his bosses concerns. “I told you Seth, I don’t need the money as much as others,” Fly responds. “However,” Fly continues, “I think you and I should write a check in our names to donate some of that money to charity.” Seth Lerch leans back in his seat. He’s still playing it cool, still fishing for answers. “Why don’t you just donate the money yourself?” returns Lerch. Fly smiles again, not sarcastically, not cockily…happily. He lifts himself up out of his chair and walks around the table toward Seth. The amicable Fly lifts his arm onto the shoulder of the more-than-confused shoulder of Seth Danger Lerch.
“I make too much money, Seth,” Fly bellows out. “It’s not fair and it’s not right.”
Astonished, Seth Lerch stumbles over his next words for a few seconds before simply responding with an ‘okay.’ Seth excitedly reaches for his cell phone in his pocket to call his lawyers back in to write up the paperwork for Fly’s new contract. Knowingly, Fly reacts by placing his hand on Seth’s and shaking his head ‘no.’ Seth looks up confused once again. For a second he begins to think that Fly has played him, but Fly eases his concerns by pulling out a pen from his own pocket. “I’ve already drawn it up, Seth” Fly boasts. Fly reaches into his suit jacket and brings out a folded document, setting it in front of Seth. “No gimmicks, that’s the contract in black and white,” Fly states.
Seth Lerch takes a few seconds and looks over the document, which basically consists of two sentences that merely state that Jonny Fly’s salary from this day forward will be one-hundred thousand dollars per year, with no exceptions and no stipulations. Seth Lerch smiles, and then puts his pen to the paper making it official. “Shall we toast to new beginnings, boss?” Fly’s question receives an approving nod from Seth. “I think we should…buddy,” says Lerch. The two men exchange a handshake and a pat on the back before exiting the room and…
BEEP
BEEP
BEEP
Jonny Fly springs to an upright position in his bed. A look of dread is across his face as he reaches over and shuts off his alarm clock. He brings his hand to his head and rubs his forehead.
Fly: That better have been a dream…
Fly rolls out of the bed and finds his pants from yesterday lying on the ground. He digs in to his pocket and retrieves his IPhone. He presses the button to get SIRI and tells ‘her’ to call ‘douchebag.’ She recites ‘calling douchebag’ and dials the number as Fly sets the phone on speaker mode. A few seconds later Fly’s call is answered by..
Lerch: Seth Lerch speaking!
Fly: Sethopotamus, it’s Fly.
Lerch: Oh. What the fuck do you want, and what is a Sethopotamus?
Fly: It’s a giant piece of shit hippo that dresses in grungy band attire.
Lerch: Are you calling me fat?
Fly: No, of course not. I’m saying you’re semi-aquatic and sometimes people poach you for ivory.
Lerch: What the fuck are you talking about?
Fly: Nevermind all that. Am I still rich?
Lerch: How the hell would I know?
Fly: Okay, new questions, how much are you paying me?
Lerch: (sigh) Five and a half million after your last successful World Title defense, I believe.
Fly: Oh, thank god. Alright, that’s all I need from you. Peace out, slutpie.
Lerch: Hold on a second! Since I have you on the phone, you’re due for your drug test. Get a hold of Dr. Jefferson and get it scheduled immediately.
Fly: What? I just had a drug test!
Lerch: You know my rule. All World Champions are subject to a drug test every two weeks. I won’t have this company represented by someone using any performance enhancing supplements.
Fly: …but yet you gave Waylon Cash and FPV a World Title shot.
Lerch: Deal with it, Fly. Goodbye.
Fly: Whatever, bitch.
Fly hangs up the phone and takes in a deep sigh. He still makes a ridiculous amount of money. Thank god. Anyway, what to do with his day now?
DING, DONG
[/color]
Fly’s gaudy and way-to-loud doorbell rings. Fly throws on his pants and races out of his room, downstairs, and opens the door. Shannan Lerch barges into his house all up in a tizzy about some shit. She brushes past Fly and starts walking toward the living room.
Shannan: We need to talk, Jonny.
Fly takes in a deep sigh before begrudgingly following Shannan into the living room. Skank Lerch plops herself down on the couch and crosses her arms across her tits. Fly takes a seat in a chair across from her and looks at her to initiate the talk.
Shannan: I just got pulled off the street and interrogated by some State Department lady and two FBI agents. Do you know what they wanted to talk about?
Fly knows what they wanted to talk to her about, but decides to make a joke instead.
Fly: You have aids and they want you to stop sleeping with the entire population because you’re infecting everyone? That is murder, technically, I imagine they are very disappointed in you.
Shannan: Incredible. I waste three hours of my day in some room and you’re making jokes about it.
Fly: Three hours? What the hell could you possibly talk about for three hours?
Shannan: Oh, we didn’t talk the whole time…
Fly: Christ, you had sex with them didn’t you!?
Shannan: NO! They made me wait for an hour before talking to me, and then kept leaving when I gave them answers they didn’t like and made me wait even longer.
Fly: What exactly did they ask you?
Shannan: The first thing they wanted to know is whether or not you took me to Bangkok. I told them yes, of course, that we were in love and that you just wanted to take me on a nice trip.
Fly: You know none of that is true, right?
Shannan: Well that’s about the only part they believed of what I told them.
Fly: Oh, fuckin’ great. That better not be made public. If people actually think I like you my reputation would be ruined….ugh…it’s disgusting just to think about.
Shannan: ANYWAY, they asked me about what we did, they asked about where you went, if you were ever alone, who all we met, some general stuff like that.
Fly: What did you tell them?
Shannan: Well I told them we were together the majority of the trip. It was only that one time you ran to the store to pick up some things were we not together.
Fly: What did they say to that?
Shannan: They asked me if I knew for sure whether you went to the store, if you had any bags with you when you came back. I told them that you did, and I was sure that you went to the store. You weren’t gone all that long.
Fly: Good. What else did they ask you about?
Shannan: They asked if we met with anyone, and political officials, anyone at all really. I told them that we didn’t really meet anyone, but were approached at the club by two guys.
Fly: Shannan…
Shannan: I told them we just talked. I didn’t tell them what happened.
Fly: Do you know if you were being recorded?
Shannan: There was a small camera in the corner of the room, yes.
Fly: Then they already know that you were lying. You shouldn’t have lied. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was supposed to get information out of them for the FBI. We’re all on the same team here.
Shannan: Wait, how do they know I lied?
Fly: They’ll analyze the tape, look at your body language, how you react to the questions, how your eyes move, that type of stuff.
Shannan: Jonny, you could at least tell me what is going on. They told me you held a gun up at two men and threatened to kill them. Is that true?
Fly: That is true, but I only did it to find out where you were being held.
Shannan: What? Being held? What are you talking about?
Fly: The two men we were at the table with, it was their people who tried to kidnap you! I threatened them only to find out where you were.
Shannan: As romantic as that sounds, that you would do that for me, I have no idea what you are talking about. I wasn’t kidnapped. The only time I left you was to go get us drinks.
Fly stares across at Shannan looking for any sign that she’s joking. Cautiously he gets up and approaches her. He grabs the front of her shirt and pulls it forward, looking underneath it. Seeing nothing except a face full of tits, he drops to a knee and pulls up her pant legs, one at a time. Again, seeing nothing, he rises back to his feet.
Fly: Tell me the truth, are you wearing a wire right now?
Shannan: What? NO!
Fly: Shannan, the truth…
Shannan: Why in the hell would I have a wire on!
Fly: You were nearly kidnapped. You were put into a van. That happened. I saved you. I don’t know why you’re saying that didn’t happen, Shannan. Have they gotten to you?
Shannan: WHO are you talking about?
Fly: Shannan…explain to me exactly what happened at the club in Bangkok.
Shannan: I’ll tell you what I told the lady from the State Department today. We went there together and were joined at our table with two gentlemen who introduced themselves as political officials in the local government. They were complimenting you on the club, telling you that if was bringing a great deal of money into the city. You asked me to go get us drinks and when I came back you were talking about closing the club down. You don’t remember this?
Fly: I do remember that part, what happened next?
Shannan: Well, you asked me to go get some more drinks and by the time I came back you were pointing a gun at them and people starting screaming and running for the doors. Then you ran to the back, came back a few moments later and wondered where the men went. It was pretty odd.
Fly: You didn’t tell the FBI that part, right?
Shannan: I didn’t tell them about pointing the gun at anyone, no.
Fly scratches his head, not sure what to make of all of this. In his mind he vividly remembers meeting the two men, he remembers the confrontation, and he remembers pulling Shannan Lerch out of a van just before she was about to be taken. Some of this Shannan is confirming but the more dramatic parts she is saying never happened. Fly takes a few steps backwards and returns to his seat.
Fly: Something is wrong here. Am I really losing it?
Shannan: If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think the FBI or anyone else is going to be able to come after you.
Fly: I was there because of the FBI. Why would they even try to come after me? It doesn’t make any sense!
Shannan: Here I thought you just wanted to take me on a trip!
Fly: I didn’t invite you, you followed me. I remember that.
Shannan: Or do you?
Fly: Wait, I did invite you?
Shannan: Of course you did, silly! How would I have known you were going to Bangkok if you didn’t tell me you were going?
Fly: Oh, no. I’ve officially lost it. Fuck.
Fly gets up from his seat and hurriedly moves out of the room as the scene fades.
[Scene Ends]
[Scene Begins]
About two hours after the last scene ended, this scene has begun. Following his conversation with Shannan Lerch, Jonny Fly frantically put in a call to the WCF’s official company doctor. Fly demanded that the good doctor visit him at his house for a check-up, and sent his helicopter to Philadelphia to pick him up immediately. You people do remember that Fly has a helicopter right? Right now the damn thing is landing on top of his mansion. Oh, you didn’t know that the mansion had a helipad? Well it does, because what is a helicopter without someplace to land it? As the helicopter powers down, Fly makes his way via upstairs staircase onto the roof. He helps the doctor out of the helicopter and ushers him into the house. As they make their way downstairs to the living room, the dialogue of the scene begins.
Fly: Dr. Jefferson, thanks again for meeting with me in such short notice. I’m afraid something is really wrong with me.
Dr. Jefferson: I never thought I’d see the day that Jonny Fly of all people got hurt.
Fly: What? Hurt? No, I’m not hurt at all. Something is messed up in my mind.
Dr. Jefferson: You know, Jonny, I have to be honest, people have thought that for a long time.
Fly: No, no, you’re still not getting it. I’m remembering things that didn’t happen.
The doctor looks over at Fly peculiarly. They’ve reached the bottom of the steps leading down to the main floor of the house. They enter the living room and the two of them sit down on the couch to continue their conversation.
Dr. Jefferson: Like, delusions?
Fly: I guess, yeah. You’re the doctor.
Dr. Jefferson: Delusions can be from a number of things. It can be anything from a psychiatric disorder to brain injury that causes it.
Fly: Yeah, neither of those are the cause. I can assure you of that.
Dr. Jefferson: If you’re truly delusional, how could you even know that?
Fly: How would I have a brain injury?
Dr. Jefferson: You’re a professional wrestler, isn’t that obvious?
Fly: Yeah, but I’m a GOOD professional wrestler. I never take any shots. Usually in a match the only time I leave my feet is to pin whoever my opponent is.
Dr. Jefferson: Describe the Fly Swatter to me, how do you perform that move?
Fly: I’ve heard this speech before. The Fly Swatter hasn’t caused brain injury. There is something else going on, doc.
Dr. Jefferson: Perhaps it’s some sort of disorder then.
Fly: No, my genetics are perfect. No chance I have a disorder.
Dr. Jefferson: You sound delusional, that’s for sure.
Fly: Look, it’s hard for me to explain. People are telling me that I didn’t do things I remember doing. This has never happened before, but there is no way I have a brain injury or some disorder.
Dr. Jefferson: Well, you did the right thing in calling me. Most people who are delusional don’t have the mental capacity to realize that something may be off and reach out for help. They can’t wrap their minds around the fact that things they know, or think they know, may not be real. By calling me you’ve already taken the toughest step, getting help. You need to leave it up to me from here to find out what is going on. I want to run some tests on you. I’m going to take some blood, give you a few neurological exams, and we’ll see what we come up with.
Fly: Fine. Let’s just get this over with.
Dr. Jefferson: Hey, while I’m here, how about I go ahead and give you that drug test too? We’re going to be poking the arm anyway, and Seth’s been on me that it’s time for another drug test for you.
Fly: Oh, right. Yeah that’s fine.
Dr. Jefferson reaches into his bag and brings out a needle.
Fly: Whatever happened to just peeing in a cup for these drug tests anyway?
Dr. Jefferson laughs at the comment and grabs hold of Fly’s arm and forces the needle into his vein to draw blood. As the needle fills, the scene fades out.
[Scene Ends]
