Post by Jonny Fly on Dec 8, 2013 10:29:39 GMT -5
Jonny Fly appears on the screen.
There’s nothing fancy here. It’s just all Fly facage filling up your entire television screen. Behind him is blackness. No scene, no gimmick, no nothing. Fly speaks into the camera.
Jonny Fly:
What a surprise this is. In my first week as a member of an official tag-team, I find myself in a tag team titles match. When Steve Orbit and I decided to officially team together, to start The Dream Team, we knew that it was never a question of whether or not we would get this shot. It was only a matter of how long. With our match at One on the horizon, we figured this was something that would take a backseat until the year turns over. Of course, Sarah Twilight and her booking staff know what they have in The Dream Team. They know that for as great as Bobby Cairo and Odin Balfore have been, mostly in the past, the ability to put another title on their cash cows, Steve Orbit and Jonny Fly, the better off the company will be.
It’s pretty simple logic, don’t you think? Hell, thanks to the contract put out by that annoying little fuck Scott Savage, Orbit and I might be winning a lot more than the tag team titles this week. I’ll take his $500,000 and throw a little victory party with it – true Jonny Fly style. Now, we won’t be winning this match for Savage or his brothel of directionless and mediocre wrestlers, we’re going to win it because…that’s what we do. Let’s set aside how great Steve Orbit is for a second. Think about this; pop quiz question…when is the last time I ever lost a match in which I was challenging for a title? If you answered NEVER, then congratulations, you are correct. In matches like this I am fuckin’ otherworldly good. Dominant isn’t even close to a strong enough adjective to describe me in a title match. I understand very acutely that these are the matches where a wrestler creates his or her legacy…and my legacy is the only reason I’m even bothered to still get in the ring and embarrass this entire roster week, after week, after week.
Fly pauses, and directs his discussion elsewhere.
Usually in matches like this, I have some sort of plan. In the week of a title match I’m usually out crafting some big spectacle or promotional event that the people over at WCF television will be talking about for months. As you can see, that’s not the case this week. There isn’t going to be any exclusive interview, fake game show, or ridiculous shopping trip this week. I’m right here in front of all of you to tell you all what you need to know before tuning in to watch The Dream Team versus The Thickness on Sunday. You would all be best served by listening closely to the following…
First off, I understand the combined prowess of Bobby Cairo and Odin Balfore. I know that this match may in fact feature one current, and three future Hall of Famers. I realize that The Thickness has basically had its way with everyone they’ve faced since their formation. However, if Cairo and Odin are truthful, even they’ll tell you that they haven’t faced anyone even near the skill level of Steve Orbit and I. They won their titles off of S-PAC. These are guys who’ve been mainstays in the middle of the card for years. They’re the group version of Oblivion, except for the fact that Oblivion individually is more accomplished than S-PAC is a group. Like Oblivion, whenever Gable, Atreyu, or Cash get placed into the Main Event picture, they drown. Whenever they’re placed in a match for midcard titles, they swim like they’re fuckin’ Michael Phelps.
It shouldn’t be of surprise to any sane and logical person that Cairo and Odin dispatched them. No different than Steve Orbit and I did a month ago, and would have done last week if it wasn’t for the ‘exploits’ of the increasingly jobberific Jeff Purse. My point in saying that to Cairo and Odin is this…it’s a different game now. This is a different match. This is the two best wrestlers in the company at your doorstep. Don’t be offended by that statement, I’m merely dealing in fact. I’m the World Champion and Steve Orbit is the number one contender. You two have been running roughshod over the team ranks, sure, but Orbit and I have been dominating EVERYONE in EVERY type of match.
That’s the difference between our two teams. Balfore, it’s been a rough couple of years for you. Go ahead; try to tell me I’m wrong. Lie to me, by all means. It doesn’t matter. Fact is fact. You dropped your load in your first six months here. Cairo, you dropped your load years ago. You’ve been busy playing mentor since then. That’s very noble of you to reach down and help the less fortunate taste the glory that the four men in our match have all reached. Still, these facts point to a reality that looms large over this match. You two...Cairo, Odin…you two have not had…zero…impact on modern day WCF. You two are not out there setting any standards. You two are not the guys fighting over World Titles. You two are not the guys selling the biggest fuckin’ match of the year…the Main Event of One. You’re just…a tag-team.
Let’s backtrack a little before feelings are hurt. One on one, sure, you guys can hold your own against the majority of the countless drones that dot the WCF roster. I’m not taking that away from you. I am simply, and correctly, pointing out that the two of you are overshadowed these days by…well, there’s not an easy way to put this…superior wrestlers. Those wrestlers are Steve Orbit and I. Combine your World Titles, combine all of your ‘big’ wins and they’ll still pale in comparison to what I’ve done on my own in just two short years. You two are a dynamic team, even I can admit that, but you’re nothing more. Jonny Fly…Steve Orbit…we are transcendent wrestlers. We WILL become the greatest team this company and this industry will ever see. The Thickness will become in team form what its members are in singles form…afterthoughts…wrestlers who’ve been cast aside in the Era of Jonny Fly.
Fly pauses and looks down at the ground. He shakes his head slightly. He returns his gaze to the camera with a small smile on his face.
You know…once upon a time I never thought I would usher those words about Odin and Cairo. It’s amazing how things change. For all my perceived ‘arrogance,’ there was a time when I looked at Odin and Cairo as more than just guys I could use to enhance my own legacy. I came into the company and heard stories about Odin being the most dominant World Champion since whothefuckknowswho. I heard stories of Cairo being the greatest wrestler in history. Hell, even today if I was forced to pick one wrestler other than myself to win one match, my list would be Steve Orbit first…and then probably Bobby Cairo. That’s high praise. That’s as much of a vote of confidence as I’ve given a fellow wrestler in my career.
Those stories have faded though. Nobody talks about Odin’s run in 2011 anymore. It’s long been obscured by my own in 2012. It took me three months to make Odin Balfore more of a figment of people’s imagination than fuckin’ Tek. I succeeded him as the wrestler on the tip of everyone’s tongue. I succeeded him as THE dominant World Champion. I succeeded him as Ultimate Showdown winner. I succeeded him as the quickest wrestler to become a multi-time World Champion. I could go on, but there’s no need. I’ve done everything he’s done, faster, longer, and better (enter penis joke here). Today, I’m still the guy to beat. Those stories of Odin Balfore…are now stories of Jonny Fly.
Those aren’t the only stories though.
Fly smiles arrogantly.
The stories of Bobby Cairo, those are now stories of Jonny Fly as well. The moniker of greatest wrestler in WCF history, Logan can have that. He has the longevity; he has the countless accomplishments, that title is his alone…for now. However, the title of simply ‘greatest wrestler,’ has nothing to do with accomplishments. Set aside years of employment, World Title wins, title wins in general…forget it all. Who is the best wrestler to step foot into a WCF ring? If you’re one of the people who still think it’s Bobby Cairo, then you’re a fool. I_am_the_greatest_wrestler_ever.
Fly pauses to allow that last statement to sink in.
Cairo and I had a short little rendezvous at War. I’m not here to act like it was anything more than it was, but with it being my first chance to meet Cairo in the ring. It allowed me to gain some perspective. Here is Bobby Cairo…supposedly the greatest ever…in the one event he told us all he REALLY wanted to win…and who stopped him? The same guy who stopped the Odin Balfore era. The same guy who spearheaded WCF’s renaissance in 2012 and 2013. The same guy who single-handedly ousted that piece of shit Seth Lerch. The same_fucking_guy who every single wrestler in this company wants to beat more than any other. Go ahead, try to deny that fact. All you have to do is look around and listen to people. From Eric Price in every. single. fucking. television appearance, to Waylon Cash, to Jeff Purse, to Matthew Robinson, to Seifer Black Armstrong, to whoeverthefucks like Diablo Calzone.
It is truly…my world.
Is it no wonder I’m arrogant? My resume is untouchable. My career has been an all-out assault on the wrestling record books. I’ve never lost a title match, I’ve never lost to a Hall of Famer, and I’ve been doing this shit for a fuckin’ decade. Every week I go out and give my opponents all of the motivation in the world to beat me. I get them worked up, and then I still go out into the ring and tear them apart like a tight pussy in Poon Guinea.
Fly winks.
That’s for you, Cairo. It was once upon a time that the guy I wanted to wrestle and beat more than any other was Cairo. Today? I’m not so sure. Instead of looking up at Cairo in all of his Hall of Fame grandeur, I find myself looking down. The way I see it, Bobby Cairo needs a win over me more than I need a win over him. Cairo versus Fly would be almost as epic as Orbit versus Fly will be, but I don’t need to prove myself to Bobby Cairo. He has absolutely nothing over me. Think about how many people can actually say that. It’s a list the same size as the list of people who’ve managed to pin me…two.
One of those two men, Steve Orbit, he’s the best wrestler I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen nearly everyone, too. This tag-team match this week, it’s going to be everything that it’s been advertised to be. It could end up being the best match seen on Slam all year. We’re talking about a combined eight World Titles squaring off against one another. To think, the tag-team division used to filled with such generic garbage that Corey Black won the titles by his fuckin’ self. I’m not ignorant to the fact that this match is a step up from what I would consider the ‘normal’ competition level of a match I’m involved in. I think Cairo and Odin will be a challenge.
Upon saying that, Fly smiles.
But they’re not going to win. They’re going to lose their Tag-Team title belts. They will be NOTHING after Sunday night. That’ll give them plenty of time to continue sitting around in Poon Guinea and New York creating their anti-Sarah Twilight propaganda. Meanwhile, Orbit and I will just continue to lead this company…
…as it’s two best wrestlers.
Watch, and witness, Thickness.
December 4th, 2013
Our scene begins in Jonny Fly’s home office at his mansion in New York City. Fly is sitting behind his desk slumped in a chair, clearly not worried about the effects such bad posture could have on his status as one of the most physically gifted wrestlers in the world. The surface of his desk is covered in papers...and empty bags of hot fries. They’re scattered everywhere (the paper, not the hot fries), including the floor. It’s as if the office is the remnants of a gangbang at an International Paper manufacturing plant. Fly’s eyes are glazed as he just sits and stares at nothing…
Fly: I should have ended this when I had the chance.
Fly continues sitting…thinking…remembering…
-----
Flashback – October 24th, 2013
Fly: Why are you here?
Hutchins: That answer is easy. You’re out here living the high life once again. Every time you become this person…
Hutchins points to Fly’s suit, shoes, and jacket to make his point.
Hutchins: …people die and this city’s underworld goes to hell. I can’t change the things you’ve done, but I can prevent the things you will do in the future. I’m here to help you put a face to the man who will be chasing you. Know this Jonny, I’m not afraid of you and I’m not afraid of your people. I know exactly who you are. I know everything about you. Now, you know who I am and what my intentions are. That’s a respect that you’ve never given any of your victims.
-----
Fly: Fuck this guy.
Fly spins around and walks briskly back toward the bar. He walks behind it and reaches the door to the kitchen. Fly walks through the kitchen toward the back door. He opens the door and into an alley outside. To Fly’s right is a metal fire escape that scales from the top of the Santos Party House roof to street level. Fly walks over and takes the staircase all the way to the roof. Lying in the middle of the roof a rectangular briefcase has been placed. Fly reaches into his suit pocket and puts on a pair of leather gloves. He pulls his jacket collar toward his mouth.
Fly: Where is he?
A voice comes through on the other end.
Northwest about 100 yards. Walking on the street.
Fly reaches down and opens up the briefcase. Inside is a scoped rifle which Fly grabs. Holding the rifle in one hand he takes a magazine out of the briefcase and inserts it. Lastly, he screws on the barrel and walks to the northwest corner of the roof. Fly lies down on the edge of the roof and brings the rifle to his side. He presses the stock to his shoulder and tilts his head to look through the scope. It takes him a few seconds, but he finds his target. He squeezes the trigger…slowly…
…and then relents, without any explanation whatsoever.
Fly brings his eye out from the scope. He stares out from the rooftop and watches Special Agent Hutchins walk away into the distance.
-----
For the past few weeks, Fly has sought a means to misdirect the FBI’s investigation into him. So far, he’s accomplished nothing. The bureau has continued to move in on him. Now, they’re onto Steve Orbit, and both Fly and Orbit’s friends, family, and associates. Fly has a man inside the bureau, an analyst, who has all but assured him that the FBI won’t be waiting much longer to make their move on him. With nearly 100 agents on the investigation, it’s only a matter of time until they have the evidence they need to bring Fly in and put him behind bars for a long, long time.
Fly has vowed to the Board of Directors of The Flyciety, his New York City criminal organization that he would find a fall guy for the crimes he and others in the organization have committed. He’s promised that the organization’s plan to take sole control of the recently legalized gambling, prostitution, and drug trades in New York City could remain intact even in the wake of a witch-hunt from the bureau.
So far, he’s been unable to deliver and the sands of the hourglass are running low. He’s been in this position before, several times, and he’s always found a way to weasel out of trouble. Jonny Fly is deceitful, cunning, and smart, and tip-toeing out of the trouble that has followed him the majority of his professional life hasn’t been all that challenging. Case in point, yet another investigation into the death of an FBI agent from 2012 in which Fly was originally sought for questioning. Through suspicious circumstances involving Fly, the murder was eventually pinned to Seth Lerch who crazily enough sought the counsel of Fly in trial. Naturally, Lerch was convicted of murder and sent to prison and thus setting into motion a series of events that included the infamous “Breakout Kings of the Ring” saga where fellow WCF wrestlers busted Lerch out of prison and months later…the also infamous Jonny Fly versus Seth Lerch match at One in 2012.
This trouble is something more entirely. It’s more real. With the drama of 2012 fresh in the bureau’s mind, it will be impossible for Fly to get the FBI to turn their attention elsewhere. They want him off the streets and they’re ready to take Steve Orbit down with him. Doing so would end a nearly six month long plan of Fly’s to take his influence in New York City to new heights. Just as importantly, if he goes down his wrestling career will go up in flames. Fly, and Orbit for that matter, are just weeks away from a World Title match at One. Fly has to find a way to end this, right now. But…he’s got nothing. No ideas. No grand scheme. No patented Fly misdirect. No patsy to produce and stick with the bill he’s rung up on the streets of New York City for the last decade.
It’s been a long road to this point. The streets in which Fly grew up on never left him. The money and fame came with a natural ability to dispatch other grown men in a sport which just so happens to get considerable exposure. Fly signed up for the ticket off of the streets, but he never changed with his name cast in the sports world’s limelight. He never became the celebrity wrestler. He’s never been in movies, he rarely does televised interviews outside of the WCF, and besides his time in Pantheon, he never cared to market himself as anything more than a simple, yet talented, professional wrestler. Instead, Fly has continued to be himself and that person is a social menace. His narcissism prevents him from truly ever fitting in to a society that rightfully condemns his actions. He’s tried…and he’s failed miserably.
Fly survived as a teen in a world where if you lose a fight, you don’t get back up. He grew up in an environment where crime was a means to an end, not a moral wrong. Everyone and everything around him were instruments to be used for survival. This is the programming of Jonny Fly. Every action is either a means to an end, survival, or manipulation. Fly is the personification of Machiavellianism, and to date he has never truly been forced to change. He’s never not won, and those victories, in the streets and in the wrestling ring, have emboldened him in his way of life.
There are no signs of an end to this behavior. Fly has always been prepared to ride out this lifestyle until it lands him behind bars or in the ground. That’s a fate that for all the trickery and deception that Fly possesses, he can’t run away from. In the end, it’s the good people that live fulfilled lives, and the wicked which suffer. Jonny Fly has yet to suffer.
Yet.
But how long can he continue?
How long until he meets the only fate he’s destined for?
In his office, Fly continues to stare at nothing. He repositions himself from slumped to upright. He grabs a bag of hot fries of his desk with his pointer finger and thumb and looks inside. It’s empty. Sigh. Fly tosses the bag off of the desk and our camera catches a glimpse of the paper that was underneath the bag. It’s a handwritten list. We zoom in to read the following:
1. Go to war with the FBI.
2. Flee the country.
3. Fake death.
4. Turn myself in.
5. Blame Seth Lerch.
6. ==============
A sixth item on the list has already been blacked out, not allowing us to see what had previously been written. Fly picks up a pencil from the desk and holds the eraser over the first item on the list. He reads it out loud.
Fly: Go to war with the FBI.
He sighs.
Fly: I’ve been there, done that. Ended up having to turn myself into a state witness and got shuttled off to witness protection in Oregon for four years. After the case ended and I was released, I found out that my previous wrestling organization had gone under. My five World Title belts, enshrinement as its first Hall of Famer, all of it…gone. Probably because I wasn’t there to keep the place afloat. As much as I want to, I know that nothing good comes out of going to war against the bureau. I’ll only end up dead or behind bars.
Fly shakes his head and erases off the first item on the list. He then reads out the second.
Fly: Flee the country.
Fly rubs his chin as he thinks through that option.
Fly: Despite my international appeal and fondness for women with exotic accents, leaving the country would destroy me. I’d not only have to leave everything, my career, my organization, my house, cars, friends…and I’d no doubt be a wanted man even abroad. I wouldn’t be able to access my money, I wouldn’t have my people, so there’s no way I could fight back once the CIA were to find me. Plus, I don’t speak any foreign languages…
Fly takes in another sigh, and then erases off fleeing the country.
Fly: Fake death.
Fly shakes his head no again.
Fly: That has the same problems as the last one, only I’m pretty sure people would miss me. Plus, if it came down to it it’s much harder to come back from the dead than it is to just come back to the country. Then again, Jay Price came back from the dead, so maybe it isn’t that hard? Still, I wouldn’t even know how to fake kill myself. I’ve spent my whole life trying to avoid such a thing. That’s not going to work either.
Fly proceeds to erase another option from the list.
Fly: Turn myself in.
Fly begins to laugh sarcastically.
Fly: Jesus, that’s just not how I envisioned this all ending. Turn myself in like some bitch? That’s not a word that’s in my dictionary. I’d rather die than turn myself in and let those fuckers win. No, no, there has to be another way. There’s always another way. I just have to find it.
Fly erases the fourth item from the list.
Fly: Blame Seth Lerch.
Fly laughs again.
Fly: It’s worked once, I suppose. I guess the bureau wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice though. I don’t even know where Seth is these days. Even if he was around, it’s an impossible stretch to pin this on him, unfortunately. Fun though, but there’s nothing there.
Fly erases the last item on the list, leaving out only the previously scratched out number six. He raps his fingers on the desk while staring at the paper.
Fly: I was really hoping to avoid this. I’m not sure there’s anything else I can do. It’s the only way to keep the organization going and stay out of jail…or the ground.
Fly takes his pencil, turns it over, and circles the item on the list that was crossed out. After circling it he sets the pencil down and stares at the piece of paper.
Fly: One choice.
Fly takes in another deep sigh and crumbles up the paper. He gets up from his seat and walks out of the office as the scene fades out.
There’s nothing fancy here. It’s just all Fly facage filling up your entire television screen. Behind him is blackness. No scene, no gimmick, no nothing. Fly speaks into the camera.
Jonny Fly:
What a surprise this is. In my first week as a member of an official tag-team, I find myself in a tag team titles match. When Steve Orbit and I decided to officially team together, to start The Dream Team, we knew that it was never a question of whether or not we would get this shot. It was only a matter of how long. With our match at One on the horizon, we figured this was something that would take a backseat until the year turns over. Of course, Sarah Twilight and her booking staff know what they have in The Dream Team. They know that for as great as Bobby Cairo and Odin Balfore have been, mostly in the past, the ability to put another title on their cash cows, Steve Orbit and Jonny Fly, the better off the company will be.
It’s pretty simple logic, don’t you think? Hell, thanks to the contract put out by that annoying little fuck Scott Savage, Orbit and I might be winning a lot more than the tag team titles this week. I’ll take his $500,000 and throw a little victory party with it – true Jonny Fly style. Now, we won’t be winning this match for Savage or his brothel of directionless and mediocre wrestlers, we’re going to win it because…that’s what we do. Let’s set aside how great Steve Orbit is for a second. Think about this; pop quiz question…when is the last time I ever lost a match in which I was challenging for a title? If you answered NEVER, then congratulations, you are correct. In matches like this I am fuckin’ otherworldly good. Dominant isn’t even close to a strong enough adjective to describe me in a title match. I understand very acutely that these are the matches where a wrestler creates his or her legacy…and my legacy is the only reason I’m even bothered to still get in the ring and embarrass this entire roster week, after week, after week.
Fly pauses, and directs his discussion elsewhere.
Usually in matches like this, I have some sort of plan. In the week of a title match I’m usually out crafting some big spectacle or promotional event that the people over at WCF television will be talking about for months. As you can see, that’s not the case this week. There isn’t going to be any exclusive interview, fake game show, or ridiculous shopping trip this week. I’m right here in front of all of you to tell you all what you need to know before tuning in to watch The Dream Team versus The Thickness on Sunday. You would all be best served by listening closely to the following…
First off, I understand the combined prowess of Bobby Cairo and Odin Balfore. I know that this match may in fact feature one current, and three future Hall of Famers. I realize that The Thickness has basically had its way with everyone they’ve faced since their formation. However, if Cairo and Odin are truthful, even they’ll tell you that they haven’t faced anyone even near the skill level of Steve Orbit and I. They won their titles off of S-PAC. These are guys who’ve been mainstays in the middle of the card for years. They’re the group version of Oblivion, except for the fact that Oblivion individually is more accomplished than S-PAC is a group. Like Oblivion, whenever Gable, Atreyu, or Cash get placed into the Main Event picture, they drown. Whenever they’re placed in a match for midcard titles, they swim like they’re fuckin’ Michael Phelps.
It shouldn’t be of surprise to any sane and logical person that Cairo and Odin dispatched them. No different than Steve Orbit and I did a month ago, and would have done last week if it wasn’t for the ‘exploits’ of the increasingly jobberific Jeff Purse. My point in saying that to Cairo and Odin is this…it’s a different game now. This is a different match. This is the two best wrestlers in the company at your doorstep. Don’t be offended by that statement, I’m merely dealing in fact. I’m the World Champion and Steve Orbit is the number one contender. You two have been running roughshod over the team ranks, sure, but Orbit and I have been dominating EVERYONE in EVERY type of match.
That’s the difference between our two teams. Balfore, it’s been a rough couple of years for you. Go ahead; try to tell me I’m wrong. Lie to me, by all means. It doesn’t matter. Fact is fact. You dropped your load in your first six months here. Cairo, you dropped your load years ago. You’ve been busy playing mentor since then. That’s very noble of you to reach down and help the less fortunate taste the glory that the four men in our match have all reached. Still, these facts point to a reality that looms large over this match. You two...Cairo, Odin…you two have not had…zero…impact on modern day WCF. You two are not out there setting any standards. You two are not the guys fighting over World Titles. You two are not the guys selling the biggest fuckin’ match of the year…the Main Event of One. You’re just…a tag-team.
Let’s backtrack a little before feelings are hurt. One on one, sure, you guys can hold your own against the majority of the countless drones that dot the WCF roster. I’m not taking that away from you. I am simply, and correctly, pointing out that the two of you are overshadowed these days by…well, there’s not an easy way to put this…superior wrestlers. Those wrestlers are Steve Orbit and I. Combine your World Titles, combine all of your ‘big’ wins and they’ll still pale in comparison to what I’ve done on my own in just two short years. You two are a dynamic team, even I can admit that, but you’re nothing more. Jonny Fly…Steve Orbit…we are transcendent wrestlers. We WILL become the greatest team this company and this industry will ever see. The Thickness will become in team form what its members are in singles form…afterthoughts…wrestlers who’ve been cast aside in the Era of Jonny Fly.
Fly pauses and looks down at the ground. He shakes his head slightly. He returns his gaze to the camera with a small smile on his face.
You know…once upon a time I never thought I would usher those words about Odin and Cairo. It’s amazing how things change. For all my perceived ‘arrogance,’ there was a time when I looked at Odin and Cairo as more than just guys I could use to enhance my own legacy. I came into the company and heard stories about Odin being the most dominant World Champion since whothefuckknowswho. I heard stories of Cairo being the greatest wrestler in history. Hell, even today if I was forced to pick one wrestler other than myself to win one match, my list would be Steve Orbit first…and then probably Bobby Cairo. That’s high praise. That’s as much of a vote of confidence as I’ve given a fellow wrestler in my career.
Those stories have faded though. Nobody talks about Odin’s run in 2011 anymore. It’s long been obscured by my own in 2012. It took me three months to make Odin Balfore more of a figment of people’s imagination than fuckin’ Tek. I succeeded him as the wrestler on the tip of everyone’s tongue. I succeeded him as THE dominant World Champion. I succeeded him as Ultimate Showdown winner. I succeeded him as the quickest wrestler to become a multi-time World Champion. I could go on, but there’s no need. I’ve done everything he’s done, faster, longer, and better (enter penis joke here). Today, I’m still the guy to beat. Those stories of Odin Balfore…are now stories of Jonny Fly.
Those aren’t the only stories though.
Fly smiles arrogantly.
The stories of Bobby Cairo, those are now stories of Jonny Fly as well. The moniker of greatest wrestler in WCF history, Logan can have that. He has the longevity; he has the countless accomplishments, that title is his alone…for now. However, the title of simply ‘greatest wrestler,’ has nothing to do with accomplishments. Set aside years of employment, World Title wins, title wins in general…forget it all. Who is the best wrestler to step foot into a WCF ring? If you’re one of the people who still think it’s Bobby Cairo, then you’re a fool. I_am_the_greatest_wrestler_ever.
Fly pauses to allow that last statement to sink in.
Cairo and I had a short little rendezvous at War. I’m not here to act like it was anything more than it was, but with it being my first chance to meet Cairo in the ring. It allowed me to gain some perspective. Here is Bobby Cairo…supposedly the greatest ever…in the one event he told us all he REALLY wanted to win…and who stopped him? The same guy who stopped the Odin Balfore era. The same guy who spearheaded WCF’s renaissance in 2012 and 2013. The same guy who single-handedly ousted that piece of shit Seth Lerch. The same_fucking_guy who every single wrestler in this company wants to beat more than any other. Go ahead, try to deny that fact. All you have to do is look around and listen to people. From Eric Price in every. single. fucking. television appearance, to Waylon Cash, to Jeff Purse, to Matthew Robinson, to Seifer Black Armstrong, to whoeverthefucks like Diablo Calzone.
It is truly…my world.
Is it no wonder I’m arrogant? My resume is untouchable. My career has been an all-out assault on the wrestling record books. I’ve never lost a title match, I’ve never lost to a Hall of Famer, and I’ve been doing this shit for a fuckin’ decade. Every week I go out and give my opponents all of the motivation in the world to beat me. I get them worked up, and then I still go out into the ring and tear them apart like a tight pussy in Poon Guinea.
Fly winks.
That’s for you, Cairo. It was once upon a time that the guy I wanted to wrestle and beat more than any other was Cairo. Today? I’m not so sure. Instead of looking up at Cairo in all of his Hall of Fame grandeur, I find myself looking down. The way I see it, Bobby Cairo needs a win over me more than I need a win over him. Cairo versus Fly would be almost as epic as Orbit versus Fly will be, but I don’t need to prove myself to Bobby Cairo. He has absolutely nothing over me. Think about how many people can actually say that. It’s a list the same size as the list of people who’ve managed to pin me…two.
One of those two men, Steve Orbit, he’s the best wrestler I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen nearly everyone, too. This tag-team match this week, it’s going to be everything that it’s been advertised to be. It could end up being the best match seen on Slam all year. We’re talking about a combined eight World Titles squaring off against one another. To think, the tag-team division used to filled with such generic garbage that Corey Black won the titles by his fuckin’ self. I’m not ignorant to the fact that this match is a step up from what I would consider the ‘normal’ competition level of a match I’m involved in. I think Cairo and Odin will be a challenge.
Upon saying that, Fly smiles.
But they’re not going to win. They’re going to lose their Tag-Team title belts. They will be NOTHING after Sunday night. That’ll give them plenty of time to continue sitting around in Poon Guinea and New York creating their anti-Sarah Twilight propaganda. Meanwhile, Orbit and I will just continue to lead this company…
…as it’s two best wrestlers.
Watch, and witness, Thickness.
December 4th, 2013
Our scene begins in Jonny Fly’s home office at his mansion in New York City. Fly is sitting behind his desk slumped in a chair, clearly not worried about the effects such bad posture could have on his status as one of the most physically gifted wrestlers in the world. The surface of his desk is covered in papers...and empty bags of hot fries. They’re scattered everywhere (the paper, not the hot fries), including the floor. It’s as if the office is the remnants of a gangbang at an International Paper manufacturing plant. Fly’s eyes are glazed as he just sits and stares at nothing…
Fly: I should have ended this when I had the chance.
Fly continues sitting…thinking…remembering…
-----
Flashback – October 24th, 2013
Fly: Why are you here?
Hutchins: That answer is easy. You’re out here living the high life once again. Every time you become this person…
Hutchins points to Fly’s suit, shoes, and jacket to make his point.
Hutchins: …people die and this city’s underworld goes to hell. I can’t change the things you’ve done, but I can prevent the things you will do in the future. I’m here to help you put a face to the man who will be chasing you. Know this Jonny, I’m not afraid of you and I’m not afraid of your people. I know exactly who you are. I know everything about you. Now, you know who I am and what my intentions are. That’s a respect that you’ve never given any of your victims.
-----
Fly: Fuck this guy.
Fly spins around and walks briskly back toward the bar. He walks behind it and reaches the door to the kitchen. Fly walks through the kitchen toward the back door. He opens the door and into an alley outside. To Fly’s right is a metal fire escape that scales from the top of the Santos Party House roof to street level. Fly walks over and takes the staircase all the way to the roof. Lying in the middle of the roof a rectangular briefcase has been placed. Fly reaches into his suit pocket and puts on a pair of leather gloves. He pulls his jacket collar toward his mouth.
Fly: Where is he?
A voice comes through on the other end.
Northwest about 100 yards. Walking on the street.
Fly reaches down and opens up the briefcase. Inside is a scoped rifle which Fly grabs. Holding the rifle in one hand he takes a magazine out of the briefcase and inserts it. Lastly, he screws on the barrel and walks to the northwest corner of the roof. Fly lies down on the edge of the roof and brings the rifle to his side. He presses the stock to his shoulder and tilts his head to look through the scope. It takes him a few seconds, but he finds his target. He squeezes the trigger…slowly…
…and then relents, without any explanation whatsoever.
Fly brings his eye out from the scope. He stares out from the rooftop and watches Special Agent Hutchins walk away into the distance.
-----
For the past few weeks, Fly has sought a means to misdirect the FBI’s investigation into him. So far, he’s accomplished nothing. The bureau has continued to move in on him. Now, they’re onto Steve Orbit, and both Fly and Orbit’s friends, family, and associates. Fly has a man inside the bureau, an analyst, who has all but assured him that the FBI won’t be waiting much longer to make their move on him. With nearly 100 agents on the investigation, it’s only a matter of time until they have the evidence they need to bring Fly in and put him behind bars for a long, long time.
Fly has vowed to the Board of Directors of The Flyciety, his New York City criminal organization that he would find a fall guy for the crimes he and others in the organization have committed. He’s promised that the organization’s plan to take sole control of the recently legalized gambling, prostitution, and drug trades in New York City could remain intact even in the wake of a witch-hunt from the bureau.
So far, he’s been unable to deliver and the sands of the hourglass are running low. He’s been in this position before, several times, and he’s always found a way to weasel out of trouble. Jonny Fly is deceitful, cunning, and smart, and tip-toeing out of the trouble that has followed him the majority of his professional life hasn’t been all that challenging. Case in point, yet another investigation into the death of an FBI agent from 2012 in which Fly was originally sought for questioning. Through suspicious circumstances involving Fly, the murder was eventually pinned to Seth Lerch who crazily enough sought the counsel of Fly in trial. Naturally, Lerch was convicted of murder and sent to prison and thus setting into motion a series of events that included the infamous “Breakout Kings of the Ring” saga where fellow WCF wrestlers busted Lerch out of prison and months later…the also infamous Jonny Fly versus Seth Lerch match at One in 2012.
This trouble is something more entirely. It’s more real. With the drama of 2012 fresh in the bureau’s mind, it will be impossible for Fly to get the FBI to turn their attention elsewhere. They want him off the streets and they’re ready to take Steve Orbit down with him. Doing so would end a nearly six month long plan of Fly’s to take his influence in New York City to new heights. Just as importantly, if he goes down his wrestling career will go up in flames. Fly, and Orbit for that matter, are just weeks away from a World Title match at One. Fly has to find a way to end this, right now. But…he’s got nothing. No ideas. No grand scheme. No patented Fly misdirect. No patsy to produce and stick with the bill he’s rung up on the streets of New York City for the last decade.
It’s been a long road to this point. The streets in which Fly grew up on never left him. The money and fame came with a natural ability to dispatch other grown men in a sport which just so happens to get considerable exposure. Fly signed up for the ticket off of the streets, but he never changed with his name cast in the sports world’s limelight. He never became the celebrity wrestler. He’s never been in movies, he rarely does televised interviews outside of the WCF, and besides his time in Pantheon, he never cared to market himself as anything more than a simple, yet talented, professional wrestler. Instead, Fly has continued to be himself and that person is a social menace. His narcissism prevents him from truly ever fitting in to a society that rightfully condemns his actions. He’s tried…and he’s failed miserably.
Fly survived as a teen in a world where if you lose a fight, you don’t get back up. He grew up in an environment where crime was a means to an end, not a moral wrong. Everyone and everything around him were instruments to be used for survival. This is the programming of Jonny Fly. Every action is either a means to an end, survival, or manipulation. Fly is the personification of Machiavellianism, and to date he has never truly been forced to change. He’s never not won, and those victories, in the streets and in the wrestling ring, have emboldened him in his way of life.
There are no signs of an end to this behavior. Fly has always been prepared to ride out this lifestyle until it lands him behind bars or in the ground. That’s a fate that for all the trickery and deception that Fly possesses, he can’t run away from. In the end, it’s the good people that live fulfilled lives, and the wicked which suffer. Jonny Fly has yet to suffer.
Yet.
But how long can he continue?
How long until he meets the only fate he’s destined for?
In his office, Fly continues to stare at nothing. He repositions himself from slumped to upright. He grabs a bag of hot fries of his desk with his pointer finger and thumb and looks inside. It’s empty. Sigh. Fly tosses the bag off of the desk and our camera catches a glimpse of the paper that was underneath the bag. It’s a handwritten list. We zoom in to read the following:
1. Go to war with the FBI.
2. Flee the country.
3. Fake death.
4. Turn myself in.
5. Blame Seth Lerch.
6. ==============
A sixth item on the list has already been blacked out, not allowing us to see what had previously been written. Fly picks up a pencil from the desk and holds the eraser over the first item on the list. He reads it out loud.
Fly: Go to war with the FBI.
He sighs.
Fly: I’ve been there, done that. Ended up having to turn myself into a state witness and got shuttled off to witness protection in Oregon for four years. After the case ended and I was released, I found out that my previous wrestling organization had gone under. My five World Title belts, enshrinement as its first Hall of Famer, all of it…gone. Probably because I wasn’t there to keep the place afloat. As much as I want to, I know that nothing good comes out of going to war against the bureau. I’ll only end up dead or behind bars.
Fly shakes his head and erases off the first item on the list. He then reads out the second.
Fly: Flee the country.
Fly rubs his chin as he thinks through that option.
Fly: Despite my international appeal and fondness for women with exotic accents, leaving the country would destroy me. I’d not only have to leave everything, my career, my organization, my house, cars, friends…and I’d no doubt be a wanted man even abroad. I wouldn’t be able to access my money, I wouldn’t have my people, so there’s no way I could fight back once the CIA were to find me. Plus, I don’t speak any foreign languages…
Fly takes in another sigh, and then erases off fleeing the country.
Fly: Fake death.
Fly shakes his head no again.
Fly: That has the same problems as the last one, only I’m pretty sure people would miss me. Plus, if it came down to it it’s much harder to come back from the dead than it is to just come back to the country. Then again, Jay Price came back from the dead, so maybe it isn’t that hard? Still, I wouldn’t even know how to fake kill myself. I’ve spent my whole life trying to avoid such a thing. That’s not going to work either.
Fly proceeds to erase another option from the list.
Fly: Turn myself in.
Fly begins to laugh sarcastically.
Fly: Jesus, that’s just not how I envisioned this all ending. Turn myself in like some bitch? That’s not a word that’s in my dictionary. I’d rather die than turn myself in and let those fuckers win. No, no, there has to be another way. There’s always another way. I just have to find it.
Fly erases the fourth item from the list.
Fly: Blame Seth Lerch.
Fly laughs again.
Fly: It’s worked once, I suppose. I guess the bureau wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice though. I don’t even know where Seth is these days. Even if he was around, it’s an impossible stretch to pin this on him, unfortunately. Fun though, but there’s nothing there.
Fly erases the last item on the list, leaving out only the previously scratched out number six. He raps his fingers on the desk while staring at the paper.
Fly: I was really hoping to avoid this. I’m not sure there’s anything else I can do. It’s the only way to keep the organization going and stay out of jail…or the ground.
Fly takes his pencil, turns it over, and circles the item on the list that was crossed out. After circling it he sets the pencil down and stares at the piece of paper.
Fly: One choice.
Fly takes in another deep sigh and crumbles up the paper. He gets up from his seat and walks out of the office as the scene fades out.
