Post by Jonny Fly on Dec 17, 2013 15:02:23 GMT -5
Our scene begins at The Flyciety’s headquarters in Brooklyn, a warehouse just across the Williamsburg Bridge on the harbor overlooking Manhattan. A black Jaguar XKR pulls up in front of the warehouse and Jonny Fly exits the vehicle. Just over a week ago Fly’s previous vehicle, a candy apple red Jaguar XK was destroyed by Jeff Purse. As usual, Fly seems to have rebounded well from the incident, using it to make a little upgrade in his choice of transportation. Fly closes the car door behind him and takes a moment to stare at the outside façade of the warehouse.
The Flyciety Headquarters has been abandoned over the last few weeks based on the recommendation from Michael Simpson, Fly’s inside man within the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Fly moved the operations of his criminal enterprise to his own home. As we look around the outside, for the first time in months, there isn’t an FBI surveillance team to be found. There are several other cars parked out in front, however.
Fly straightens his tie and suit jacket sleeves and walks forward, opening up the door into the warehouse. He breaks to the left and catches a metal staircase that brings him to the catwalk above the warehouse’s ground floor. Fly proceeds down the length of the catwalk to where his office is located. He takes a left, passes his office, and then opens up the next door on the right to enter the conference room. As we enter we see seven other individuals sitting around a circular table. Fly stops just inside the door, turns, and slowly closes it behind him.
…locking it.
Fly walks across the room and closes the blinds on the two windows on the far side of the room. From there he takes up a position in the center of the conference table. Slowly, methodically, he takes a moment to make eye contact with each of the men in the room. After a pause of nearly thirty seconds, he begins.
Fly: As promised, the FBI has been misdirected in its investigation. We are free, for now.
Murmurs are heard from the group, speaking softly to one another. Smiles are seen throughout the room, with the notable of exception of Fly himself.
Fly: Stop talking.
The previous words are said with Fly raising his voice just enough to regain the attention of his audience. He begins to pace back and forth, from one side of the circle to the other.
Fly: I say we celebrate…with a story. I’m not going to tell you all the things I’ve done to keep the FBI at bay. I’m not going to tell you the lengths I’ve gone to…the things that I’ve done…to protect you all and this organization as a whole. I told you I would do it, and that’s what I did. I never used to be like this, though…
Fly sighs and looks at the ground.
Fly: This very organization broke me a long time ago. Ten years ago all I ever aspired to be was a good wrestler. I just wanted to be successful and make some money. I was but a kid making waves throughout the industry. I won my first World Title before I was even twenty years old. With that fame at such a young age, came issues. I spent all my money building a giant mansion in New York City, the same house I live in today. I took out a little loan from a guy who told me he could give me some cash to finish the house and get me through until I got the pay raise that would surely be coming for someone of my growing stature. That loan came from Jack Ridder, the same man who put each and every one of you on this board.
Fly again scans the room, looking at the members of his organization’s board. As has been said before, Fly inherited this group of men after taking over the organization and renaming it. He’s never changed out the board. Meaning, this is a group that once upon a time were trying to kill him. Fly’s contended that these men know too much to be cut loose, and so he’s kept them involved…albeit at a distance.
Fly: This organization…all of you…demanded that the loan be paid back in thirty days, well before it was supposed to. I didn’t have the cash, refused to pay it back, and so began the threats, the attacks, and then the killing. You all brought the demon out of me. You guys killed everyone that I used to love. You were the spark that turned a humble and harmless kid into a monster. You turned a fun-loving wrestler into a criminal mastermind, all just to stay alive, truthfully. Quite simply, you made me what I am today.
Fly smiles, wickedly.
Fly: I’d like to thank you all for that. I’d like to thank you in the only way I know how, anymore.
With that, Fly reaches underneath his suit jacket and pulls out his 9 mm pistol with silencer attached. He immediately fires a shot into the skull of Bill Weston, a member of the organization for nearly twenty years. Weston falls backward in a heap of his own blood. The other men at the table immediately take for cover. Fly turns to his left and fires two shots into the torso of Edmund Jackson, the member of the board with the least seniority, before Jackson can duck for cover underneath the table. Fly spins back to the right and sees Walter Wright running toward the locked door. Wright has been a longtime bookkeeper for the organization and serves as its de-facto shady accountant. Fly cuts him down with a shot the neck and back.
As Wright’s blood splashes against the closed door, Fly spins 180 degrees to see Lincoln Hardy and David Hardy trying to bust out a window using one of their chairs. The brothers came to the Ridder Organization as friends of Jack Ridder’s son, John. Fly pauses to watch as David tosses the chair against the window, not getting the desired result. Noticing they’re now out in the open with Fly’s attention on them, each man raises his hands.
David: Jonny, you don’t have….
David Hardy’s voice is cut off by the sound of Fly’s pistol releasing a round that cuts through his gullet. Lincoln watches his brother fall to the floor in shock. Enraged, he runs toward Fly, but two shots to his abdomen and chest stop him dead in his tracks, literally. Fly spins around again, not seeing anyone else. He takes a few steps out of the circle and investigates underneath it. He sees Nick Meyers cowering under the table. Fly bends down and points his pistol at Meyers, who tries to scamper out from under the table, but two shots to the side ribcage area stop that plan.
Fly stands back up and replaces the clip on his pistol. He looks around again, missing just one more person. Fly circles around the conference table, checking underneath it, but not finding the person he’s looking for. He takes a look at the door, noticing that with the body in front of it and the door still locked, nobody has left the room. Finally, amongst the massacre, he sees movement from underneath the body of Weston. Fly casually walks over and lifts Weston’s body off of the last board member, Andrew Ridder, nephew of Jack Ridder, the organization’s founder. As Ridder is exposed, he begins to scoot backward using his legs to push him away from Fly until he runs out of space against the wall. Fly follows him, raising the gun toward Ridder’s head. Andrew Ridder meekly manages to ask the question we all want to know.
Andrew: Jonny…why?
Fly brings the gun down to his side. He kneels down.
Fly: Tell me, what is that phrase we use to guide our people in their decision making?
Andrew: I…I don’t…
Fly: TELL ME.
Andrew: Prophet and Profit.
Fly nods his head.
Andrew: Is this about money? You can have my money. Just let me live.
Fly takes his pistol and whips Andrew Ridder over the head with it. A cut is opened on his forehead, and blood begins leaking down his face.
Fly: You think this about MONEY? You think I can just be bought like some fuckin’ street thug? You ignorant little fuck; this is so much bigger than that. I live by those words. They guide me. Prophet and Profit. I control everything around me. I’m always one step ahead of everyone else. I masterminded this entire plan to take our organization to new heights – new heights of profit.
Fly stands up, still looking at Andrew Ridder.
Fly: I just tossed all of my crimes over the last six months onto Steve Orbit. My second genius plan in as many months. Nobody ever questioned me as to why I was brining Orbit into the organization at the same time the FBI was turning up the heat against us. None of you said anything as I failed to take the shot from the rooftop of The Party House that would have killed Agent Hutchins. Well, this is why. The plan all along was to stick Orbit with the bill.
It was pretty easy to accomplish. Orbit is a pimp, a superfluous occupation in a world where prostitution has moved off the streets and onto the internet. He is a relic to a lost time. He dresses like it’s like the fuckin’ 70’s and even worse, as a ‘pimp,’ he has the heavy-handedness of a football fan waving around a foam finger. Orbit’s what I call a boyfriend pimp. He has one bitch, and instead of making any money off her, he’s fucking her. He’s soft, through and through, and I used that to our benefit.
Andrew: What does that have to do with us?
Fly: I’m being…heh, well, prophetic. I’ve asked myself what the next shoe to drop is. For as soft as he is, Steve Orbit isn’t done fighting. I expect him to find a way to weasel out of the charges. To do so, he’s going to have to find a way to pin things back on me. To combat that outcome, I’m destroying the organization once and for all. I have a short window to get rid of everything and everyone within it. This is the end…of everything.
Fly begins to chuckle.
Fly: It’s funny how it works. I’ll probably try to keep the clubs we’ve started building and all profits associated with them. Prophet and Profit, and so it’ll be. The philosophy your uncle created ends up killing you. Life is full of cruel irony, don’t you think?
With that, Fly raises his pistol once again.
Fly: Say goodbye.
Fly pulls the trigger and send a bullet into Andrew Ridder’s skull. Blood and brain matter splatter against the wall behind him. Fly poses with the gun still outstretched for a few moments, and answers his own command.
Fly: Goodbye.
Fly turns and walks back to the door. He kicks aside the body of Walter Wright and exits the conference room. Walking into his office next door, Fly goes to his desk. He opens the upper left drawer and grabs a small bottle of lighter fluid. Fly walks back into the conference room and begins to spread the fluid on each of the bodies, the conference table, the walls, and the ground. Finished, Fly tosses the rest of the bottle into the room and walks to the doorway. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a zippo lighter. Scanning the room momentarily, Fly smiles, and tosses the lit lighter into the room. As the flames begin, Fly turns and walks away. He heads back down the catwalk to the staircase and then outside. Fly reaches his car and opens up the driver’s side door, sliding into the seat. From the comfort of his car he watches as smoke begins to filter out of the upstairs windows. Satisfied, Fly sticks his key into the ignition and pulls away. The scene comes to a close as the warehouse begins to burn.
Our scene changes to another area of New York City just one hour later. We’re between Broadway and Church Street at a place previously called Zuccotti Park. Once upon a time the park was a 33,000 square foot plot of land with items tables and benches and green space. Today, the park is a construction zone. It’s in the process of becoming the East Coast expansion of Steve Orbit’s Club Violet after Orbit won the deed for the property from Jonny Fly. The land is currently an all-dirt surface. In terms of the building, all that has been done so far is the foundation and the steel frame. There are nearly two dozen workers on site. About half of the people are up on scaffolds working on the building’s exoskeleton. The other half of the workers are working on grading and preparing the rest of the land for a parking garage and landscaping.
Jonny Fly pulls into the construction site in his Jaguar XKR, drawing the attention of the workers on-site. He parks the car next to the building and steps out. Instead of the suit from earlier, Fly is wearing a pair of khakis and a long-sleeved undershirt. This is about the most casual we’ve ever seen Fly outside of the ring, likely due to the mess he made earlier in the day on his previous attire. Fly reaches back into the car briefly and pulls out a folder, closing the car down behind him. He looks around and spots the man he’s looking for. Up on a scaffold is the site’s foreman. Fly walks through the metal frame of the club toward the foreman.
Foreman: Jonny Fly. What brings you out here today?
Fly: Would you mind coming down from there?
The foreman nods his head and uses the metal ladder attached to the scaffolding to come down and meet Fly. As he does, Fly hands him the folder.
Foreman: What is this?
Fly: A court order to stop construction.
Foreman: What? Why?
Fly: Steve Orbit is in jail. Convicted of murder, amongst other things. The mayor doesn’t want the first casino in the city to be run by a criminal. He’s pushed the courts to temporarily suspend construction and he’s trying to permanently take over the deed to the property and construction from Orbit.
Foreman: You’re kidding me.
Fly: I wish I was, because you know that I’m invested in this project myself. Other than the image of having Orbit with a place in New York, the city isn’t even sure that the money Orbit is using to fund this project is ‘clean’ money. They’re investigating it, but until then they want construction halted.
Foreman: What does this mean for my guys?
Fly: For now, I guess they’re out of work.
Foreman: It’s Christmas time. They have families that are depending on this work.
Fly: Blame Steve Orbit.
Foreman: This is unbelievable.
Fly: Look, between you and me, I think Orbit gets out. I think he’ll be able to clear himself of at least some of the charges. However, the damage has been done. Mayor Cairo isn’t going to let Orbit own a spot in his city. He’s damaged goods. Cairo is going to try and seize this project from Orbit. He’ll then likely sell the rights off to someone and allow them to go through with construction. I’m in good position to be that guy. The mayor and I have a great relationship. Once I do get sole control of this property, I’ll bring you and your crew back under one condition.
Foreman: What’s that?
Fly points to the folder.
Fly: Ignore that. Have your guys keep working. When the time comes that I take over the deed, I’ll back pay each one of you for your work – plus a little late Christmas bonus.
Foreman: You want me to break the law?
Fly: I want you to tell a lie. Report back to the city that the structure is unstable and can’t be left alone at this point in time. Tell them that you’ll work only until the structure can be considered safe, and then you’ll end your work on site for the time being. Meanwhile, continue doing what you doing. Once I take over I want to get this place up and running as fast as possible and I can’t afford this delay. You’ll be well compensated for your work, and I assure you. If the city sends inspectors in here to try and shut you down, I’ll go to bat for you with the mayor.
The foreman considers what Fly is telling him.
Foreman: I thought it was Cairo who was shutting me down?
Fly: That’s right, but he’s only doing it to remove Orbit from the equation. He has to go through the court system to do that, and they’re the ones who have ordered construction stopped. It’s just a formality. Cairo has to make a case for the city to seize the property, and then he has to sell it over to me. He’s not going to come after you for continuing construction.
Foreman: So, all I have to do is report back that I can’t end construction right now because the building is liable to collapse, and then continue working as normal? Once the ownership rights are sorted out, we’ll get paid for our work.
Fly: That’s right.
Foreman: What happens if you don’t gain those rights?
Fly chuckles at the comment. He slaps the foreman on the back.
Fly: Not a chance in hell.
The foreman nods his head.
Foreman: Alright Jonny, you have a deal.
Fly and the foreman of the construction site shake hands.
Fly: Well then, back to work.
With that Fly turns and walks away. The scene comes to a close.
Our next scene begins at Jonny Fly’s mansion in New York City. Fly is sitting in his living room in front of the fireplace. The fire is burning and he’s slowly feeding pieces of paper into it. A stack of files, folders, and loose leaf paper is all stacked next to him. As we zoom in we see that most of the files are titled ‘Flyciety’ or ‘Organization Operations’ and other things of that nature. Little by little, Fly is burning off all of the documentation and evidence he has on the organization’s existence.
As Fly continues to feed the documents into the fire, we notice that his television is turned on above him. The TV is mounted on the wall above the fireplace and is currently tuned to WCF television. The always reporterific Hank Brown is currently on screen talking about a few of the matches coming up at One and showing clips of his latest WCF wrestler interviews. Hank continues talking and Fly continues burning off documents. On screen, Hank is brought to a pause. He holds his finger to his ear and then remarks.
Brown: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m getting some breaking news out of Nevada right now. It appears that WCF wrestler Steve Orbit has been released from prison today. Furthermore, sources have suggested that Orbit’s first order of business upon being released was to head to WCF headquarters in Reading, Pennsylvania to meet face-to-face with WCF Owner Sarah Twilight in hopes of regaining his spot in the One Main Event.
As you’ll certainly recall, news broke late last week that Orbit was in the process of clearing his name and fully intended to be at One, competing against Jonny Fly for the WCF World Title as previously scheduled. We even heard from Orbit’s lawyer that the company could face legal action from his client if the match is not reinstated. This latest report is a continuation of a series of events that started with Orbit being arrested by federal agents at Slam almost two weeks ago, and saw Sarah Twilight announce that the WCF’s resident nerdsmashers, Kevin and George! would be taking his spot against…
Brown stops himself again. His finger goes back to the ear. In a more excited tone, Hank continues.
Brown: YES! A twitter post from WCF’s own Bryan “Buzz” Worthy, the host of WCF’s weekly roundup, has confirmed that Steve Orbit WILL compete against Jonny Fly…
Cut. Fly turns off the television. He’s standing and staring at the blank screen.
Fly: Well, I’ll be damned. I guess it’s time to go to work.
Fly turns and walks out of the living room and into the hallway that would take you from either the living room or kitchen, to the front foyer of the house. Midway down the hallway, Fly opens up a closet door. From the top shelf he grabs a video camera and tripod. He returns to the living room and sets up the camera. With the camera ready, Fly takes his position on the loveseat in the living room. The light on the camera turns green and we begin.
Fly: I see that Steve Orbit has found his way out of prison. Not only that, he managed to find a way to sneak back into the Main Event of One. Therefore, we get the joy of watching a FELON compete on the biggest stage this company offers. Besides the obvious perception problems this will cause all of us as employees of this nuthouse, this brings another problem to the forefront. This is no longer just a World Title match. For one of us, this is redemption. At least, what he perceives to be redemption.
Fly pauses and licks his lips, smirking.
Fly: For my entire career I’ve gone out of my way to find motivation. Even when facing the biggest of Flyjobbers, I find something within that match that motivates me to go to the next level. For Steve Orbit, right now, he’s at that level. You all heard him say it; he wants to kill me. He wants to avenge the wrongs he believes that I’ve caused him. That’s as strong of motivation as you get and…it makes me smile.
To accentuate his point, Fly…you guessed it…smiles.
Fly: First off, I’ve done nothing to Steve Orbit. He’s fuckin’ batshit crazy. Secondly, and more importantly, this is what I live for. I have taken one of the best wrestlers in the fuckin’ universe and turned him into a delusional and bitter little man…and I haven’t even stepped into the ring with him. Contrary to what our criminal friend would have you all believe, I’m not scared of facing him at One. I’ve never done anything to avoid this match. I’m relishing the opportunity to knock that motherfucker off his high horse.
Fly leans forward in his seat.
Fly: …and I WILL wipe out that loss at Explosion. Like I’ve said before, I’ve beaten Steve Orbit. He’s ignoring that fact. Who pinned Steve Orbit for the Tag Team titles in April of this year? That would be me. We were LITERALLY side by side for the majority of War in September, but he slipped up, and after two and half hours I prevailed – like I always do. I prevailed at Ultimate Showdown in 2012, a match he was in and was barely relevant. Orbit lost his World Title to Nathan von Liebert, and I fucked that dude up WITH EASE at XIII. Orbit thinks these facts don’t matter because of Explosion, and that’s wrong. I don’t care what people remember, what they remember doesn’t win or lose matches. What does is talent, and those matches give us a broader window into Jonny Fly versus Steve Orbit. The fact remains, his record when sharing the ring with me is fuckin’ awful. No…I’m not scared of Steve Orbit. He managed to get his win on me, and that’s a tall task for any wrestler…but twice?
Fly scoffs.
Fly: That’s not going to happen. Not in this world. I am DONE making Steve Orbit relevant. He’s clung to my name for far too long. He tried to use the path I blazed last year to prop up his own emergence in the company and ensuing Television Title run. He was ‘the next Jonny Fly.’ Then, he stalled out. Dead in the fuckin’ water. It was me who threw out the line. I challenged him to step it the fuck up, to BE LIKE ME. He gave it all he had for a few months. He climbed to the very top. He pinned the most dominant wrestler in the world, me, no doubt about it. Then he took that momentum and scored his first World Title. Then…he went back to doing nothing. He lost the belt in a month. Slipped up at War, watching as I took back the company from him, Nathan, Eric Price, and everyone else. Since then, I tried to take him relevant again. We’ve teamed up a bunch, we were dominating, and it was all good for him. Hell, I helped him get this fuckin’ match! These are the facts, people. I’ve been propping Steve Orbit up this entire time. Now, he stands on his own…and without me behind him…he’ll fall…like he always does.
Fly stares intently into the camera as his last words reverberate around the room.
Fly: Orbit says this match is personal, and he’s right…for all the wrong reasons. This match is about me shedding my skin. The skin of my association with Steve Orbit, the underachiever, make-believe pimp, and criminal. It’s over. No more of him getting to be the sidekick, no more me dragging him into my spotlight so he can taste what it’s like to be the best in the fuckin’ world. I’m going to consume Steve Orbit. I’m going to take his motivation, his hunger, and his need for revenge and shove it back down his throat until he gags it up like the little pussy bitch that he is.
Steve Orbit, I don’t want to beat you. I already have.
You’re on the card against Jonny Fly. The result is already fixed.
You’re out of your league. You’re not special. You’re not better than me. You’ll learn the hard way…
Jonny Fly always wins in the end.
With that, Fly pops up from his seat and turns off the camera. He takes out the tape and looks at it for a moment. Something is missing, he decides. He sets the tape down and grabs another, putting the new tape into the camera. Fly re-takes his seat.
Fly: Just finished a promo, Orbit. It’s…pretty good, I guess. One thing seemed to be missing though. Obviously I’d be a fuckin’ idiot to send a tape to WCF with me admitting I did anything wrong to you. So I really didn’t get the chance to respond directly to some of your more...accusing…comments. With that said, I want you to know that, yes; I planned all of this from the start.
Fly’s trademark smirk comes back.
Fly: Can we be honest with each other for once? You’re soft, Orbit. You always have been and you always will be. That’s a personal trait you can’t hide. I don’t know how a man like you can grow up on the streets, then start hustling women, and still be such a fuckin’ vagina. Alas, it’s not my problem to bear. What it was, was opportunity. I needed a fall guy and you…Steve…were a perfect candidate. You met all of the qualifications. You’re easy to manipulate, dumb, and above all else, you look the part.
Fly laughs as he finishes the comment.
Fly: I mean no offense. Look at yourself. You’re African-American, you wear bright colored suits, gold chains, and go around calling yourself “The Mack.” It fits a certain stereotype, am I right? Think about it, Orbit. You have the look of a criminal, but not the mind. I have the mind of a criminal, but not the look. I’m tall, dark, and handsome. I’m well dressed, successful, and world famous. You’re a grubby ex-pimp, shitty club owner, and dating borderline hookers. We were the perfect mix. Can’t you appreciate the genius of my plan?
Fly scoffs once again.
Fly: Of course not. Poor Steve Orbit has been wronged. He’s mad. Jonny Fly pulled one over on him. Get over yourself, Orbit. You wanted to play the game. You wanted a shot at this life. I didn’t force you to do what you did. Deep down, this is what you want. You want to run the streets. You want to be like me. You don’t want to grind anymore. You want to be the motherfucker decked out in the barney rubble suits in the penthouse looking down on the entire fuckin’ world. I just want the same thing, and unlike you Orbit, I have the balls to do what it takes to make that happen.
Fly pauses briefly, looking into the camera.
Fly: If we can’t settle on that truth, at least let us settle on a different one. You can’t kill me. I could give you a gun, stand two feet in front of you with my hands tied behind my back and you wouldn’t be able to take that shot. That’s the EXACT reason why I just ate you up and spat you back out. Now, you think you can kill me in a wrestling ring? Motherfucker, I OWN the canvas. There isn’t a man alive who can deliver the promise you’ve made. In that squared circle, I’m invincible. I’m the King, Emperor, and Sovereign Leader of the wrestling empire. You’re the whore. The bitch I use when I need to fuck … (slight pause) … over, someone. It’s about time you get on the same wavelength as the rest of the roster when it comes to Jonny Fly. You are inferior. You are living in my god damn world, Orbit.
Fly looks down momentarily, uttering the following words.
Fly: Prophet and Profit.
Fly looks back up.
Fly: A prophet predicts the future. I profit from correctly predicting what comes next. In business, in avoiding the FBI, in the ring – I always know what’s next. I’m always a step ahead. I do promos every week and TELL people they’re going to lose, and what happens?
Fly nods his head up and down, insinuating the answer to that question.
Fly: Listen to me Orbit, I know your future. It’s bleak. I know where this ends for you. It doesn’t end with the destruction of the Era of Jonny Fly, no. I’m infallible. It ends with you looking up at me as I raise the WCF World Title over my head in victory as the last imagery of 2013. The Wrestler of the Year, the World Champion of the Year, embarrassed, broken, and beaten. This match isn’t the end of Jonny Fly. This is the end of Steve Orbit as we know it.
When I’m done with you, you’ll get up off the mat, and limp out of the ring and take that walk of shame to the back empty-handed. Pride destroyed. Dreams destroyed. Career on life support once again.
But me, I’ll still be living, and I’ll still be the WCF World Champion.
So proclaims the prophet.
With those last words, Fly gets up and turns the camera off. The scene immediately cuts to black.
The Flyciety Headquarters has been abandoned over the last few weeks based on the recommendation from Michael Simpson, Fly’s inside man within the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Fly moved the operations of his criminal enterprise to his own home. As we look around the outside, for the first time in months, there isn’t an FBI surveillance team to be found. There are several other cars parked out in front, however.
Fly straightens his tie and suit jacket sleeves and walks forward, opening up the door into the warehouse. He breaks to the left and catches a metal staircase that brings him to the catwalk above the warehouse’s ground floor. Fly proceeds down the length of the catwalk to where his office is located. He takes a left, passes his office, and then opens up the next door on the right to enter the conference room. As we enter we see seven other individuals sitting around a circular table. Fly stops just inside the door, turns, and slowly closes it behind him.
…locking it.
Fly walks across the room and closes the blinds on the two windows on the far side of the room. From there he takes up a position in the center of the conference table. Slowly, methodically, he takes a moment to make eye contact with each of the men in the room. After a pause of nearly thirty seconds, he begins.
Fly: As promised, the FBI has been misdirected in its investigation. We are free, for now.
Murmurs are heard from the group, speaking softly to one another. Smiles are seen throughout the room, with the notable of exception of Fly himself.
Fly: Stop talking.
The previous words are said with Fly raising his voice just enough to regain the attention of his audience. He begins to pace back and forth, from one side of the circle to the other.
Fly: I say we celebrate…with a story. I’m not going to tell you all the things I’ve done to keep the FBI at bay. I’m not going to tell you the lengths I’ve gone to…the things that I’ve done…to protect you all and this organization as a whole. I told you I would do it, and that’s what I did. I never used to be like this, though…
Fly sighs and looks at the ground.
Fly: This very organization broke me a long time ago. Ten years ago all I ever aspired to be was a good wrestler. I just wanted to be successful and make some money. I was but a kid making waves throughout the industry. I won my first World Title before I was even twenty years old. With that fame at such a young age, came issues. I spent all my money building a giant mansion in New York City, the same house I live in today. I took out a little loan from a guy who told me he could give me some cash to finish the house and get me through until I got the pay raise that would surely be coming for someone of my growing stature. That loan came from Jack Ridder, the same man who put each and every one of you on this board.
Fly again scans the room, looking at the members of his organization’s board. As has been said before, Fly inherited this group of men after taking over the organization and renaming it. He’s never changed out the board. Meaning, this is a group that once upon a time were trying to kill him. Fly’s contended that these men know too much to be cut loose, and so he’s kept them involved…albeit at a distance.
Fly: This organization…all of you…demanded that the loan be paid back in thirty days, well before it was supposed to. I didn’t have the cash, refused to pay it back, and so began the threats, the attacks, and then the killing. You all brought the demon out of me. You guys killed everyone that I used to love. You were the spark that turned a humble and harmless kid into a monster. You turned a fun-loving wrestler into a criminal mastermind, all just to stay alive, truthfully. Quite simply, you made me what I am today.
Fly smiles, wickedly.
Fly: I’d like to thank you all for that. I’d like to thank you in the only way I know how, anymore.
With that, Fly reaches underneath his suit jacket and pulls out his 9 mm pistol with silencer attached. He immediately fires a shot into the skull of Bill Weston, a member of the organization for nearly twenty years. Weston falls backward in a heap of his own blood. The other men at the table immediately take for cover. Fly turns to his left and fires two shots into the torso of Edmund Jackson, the member of the board with the least seniority, before Jackson can duck for cover underneath the table. Fly spins back to the right and sees Walter Wright running toward the locked door. Wright has been a longtime bookkeeper for the organization and serves as its de-facto shady accountant. Fly cuts him down with a shot the neck and back.
As Wright’s blood splashes against the closed door, Fly spins 180 degrees to see Lincoln Hardy and David Hardy trying to bust out a window using one of their chairs. The brothers came to the Ridder Organization as friends of Jack Ridder’s son, John. Fly pauses to watch as David tosses the chair against the window, not getting the desired result. Noticing they’re now out in the open with Fly’s attention on them, each man raises his hands.
David: Jonny, you don’t have….
David Hardy’s voice is cut off by the sound of Fly’s pistol releasing a round that cuts through his gullet. Lincoln watches his brother fall to the floor in shock. Enraged, he runs toward Fly, but two shots to his abdomen and chest stop him dead in his tracks, literally. Fly spins around again, not seeing anyone else. He takes a few steps out of the circle and investigates underneath it. He sees Nick Meyers cowering under the table. Fly bends down and points his pistol at Meyers, who tries to scamper out from under the table, but two shots to the side ribcage area stop that plan.
Fly stands back up and replaces the clip on his pistol. He looks around again, missing just one more person. Fly circles around the conference table, checking underneath it, but not finding the person he’s looking for. He takes a look at the door, noticing that with the body in front of it and the door still locked, nobody has left the room. Finally, amongst the massacre, he sees movement from underneath the body of Weston. Fly casually walks over and lifts Weston’s body off of the last board member, Andrew Ridder, nephew of Jack Ridder, the organization’s founder. As Ridder is exposed, he begins to scoot backward using his legs to push him away from Fly until he runs out of space against the wall. Fly follows him, raising the gun toward Ridder’s head. Andrew Ridder meekly manages to ask the question we all want to know.
Andrew: Jonny…why?
Fly brings the gun down to his side. He kneels down.
Fly: Tell me, what is that phrase we use to guide our people in their decision making?
Andrew: I…I don’t…
Fly: TELL ME.
Andrew: Prophet and Profit.
Fly nods his head.
Andrew: Is this about money? You can have my money. Just let me live.
Fly takes his pistol and whips Andrew Ridder over the head with it. A cut is opened on his forehead, and blood begins leaking down his face.
Fly: You think this about MONEY? You think I can just be bought like some fuckin’ street thug? You ignorant little fuck; this is so much bigger than that. I live by those words. They guide me. Prophet and Profit. I control everything around me. I’m always one step ahead of everyone else. I masterminded this entire plan to take our organization to new heights – new heights of profit.
Fly stands up, still looking at Andrew Ridder.
Fly: I just tossed all of my crimes over the last six months onto Steve Orbit. My second genius plan in as many months. Nobody ever questioned me as to why I was brining Orbit into the organization at the same time the FBI was turning up the heat against us. None of you said anything as I failed to take the shot from the rooftop of The Party House that would have killed Agent Hutchins. Well, this is why. The plan all along was to stick Orbit with the bill.
It was pretty easy to accomplish. Orbit is a pimp, a superfluous occupation in a world where prostitution has moved off the streets and onto the internet. He is a relic to a lost time. He dresses like it’s like the fuckin’ 70’s and even worse, as a ‘pimp,’ he has the heavy-handedness of a football fan waving around a foam finger. Orbit’s what I call a boyfriend pimp. He has one bitch, and instead of making any money off her, he’s fucking her. He’s soft, through and through, and I used that to our benefit.
Andrew: What does that have to do with us?
Fly: I’m being…heh, well, prophetic. I’ve asked myself what the next shoe to drop is. For as soft as he is, Steve Orbit isn’t done fighting. I expect him to find a way to weasel out of the charges. To do so, he’s going to have to find a way to pin things back on me. To combat that outcome, I’m destroying the organization once and for all. I have a short window to get rid of everything and everyone within it. This is the end…of everything.
Fly begins to chuckle.
Fly: It’s funny how it works. I’ll probably try to keep the clubs we’ve started building and all profits associated with them. Prophet and Profit, and so it’ll be. The philosophy your uncle created ends up killing you. Life is full of cruel irony, don’t you think?
With that, Fly raises his pistol once again.
Fly: Say goodbye.
Fly pulls the trigger and send a bullet into Andrew Ridder’s skull. Blood and brain matter splatter against the wall behind him. Fly poses with the gun still outstretched for a few moments, and answers his own command.
Fly: Goodbye.
Fly turns and walks back to the door. He kicks aside the body of Walter Wright and exits the conference room. Walking into his office next door, Fly goes to his desk. He opens the upper left drawer and grabs a small bottle of lighter fluid. Fly walks back into the conference room and begins to spread the fluid on each of the bodies, the conference table, the walls, and the ground. Finished, Fly tosses the rest of the bottle into the room and walks to the doorway. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a zippo lighter. Scanning the room momentarily, Fly smiles, and tosses the lit lighter into the room. As the flames begin, Fly turns and walks away. He heads back down the catwalk to the staircase and then outside. Fly reaches his car and opens up the driver’s side door, sliding into the seat. From the comfort of his car he watches as smoke begins to filter out of the upstairs windows. Satisfied, Fly sticks his key into the ignition and pulls away. The scene comes to a close as the warehouse begins to burn.
Our scene changes to another area of New York City just one hour later. We’re between Broadway and Church Street at a place previously called Zuccotti Park. Once upon a time the park was a 33,000 square foot plot of land with items tables and benches and green space. Today, the park is a construction zone. It’s in the process of becoming the East Coast expansion of Steve Orbit’s Club Violet after Orbit won the deed for the property from Jonny Fly. The land is currently an all-dirt surface. In terms of the building, all that has been done so far is the foundation and the steel frame. There are nearly two dozen workers on site. About half of the people are up on scaffolds working on the building’s exoskeleton. The other half of the workers are working on grading and preparing the rest of the land for a parking garage and landscaping.
Jonny Fly pulls into the construction site in his Jaguar XKR, drawing the attention of the workers on-site. He parks the car next to the building and steps out. Instead of the suit from earlier, Fly is wearing a pair of khakis and a long-sleeved undershirt. This is about the most casual we’ve ever seen Fly outside of the ring, likely due to the mess he made earlier in the day on his previous attire. Fly reaches back into the car briefly and pulls out a folder, closing the car down behind him. He looks around and spots the man he’s looking for. Up on a scaffold is the site’s foreman. Fly walks through the metal frame of the club toward the foreman.
Foreman: Jonny Fly. What brings you out here today?
Fly: Would you mind coming down from there?
The foreman nods his head and uses the metal ladder attached to the scaffolding to come down and meet Fly. As he does, Fly hands him the folder.
Foreman: What is this?
Fly: A court order to stop construction.
Foreman: What? Why?
Fly: Steve Orbit is in jail. Convicted of murder, amongst other things. The mayor doesn’t want the first casino in the city to be run by a criminal. He’s pushed the courts to temporarily suspend construction and he’s trying to permanently take over the deed to the property and construction from Orbit.
Foreman: You’re kidding me.
Fly: I wish I was, because you know that I’m invested in this project myself. Other than the image of having Orbit with a place in New York, the city isn’t even sure that the money Orbit is using to fund this project is ‘clean’ money. They’re investigating it, but until then they want construction halted.
Foreman: What does this mean for my guys?
Fly: For now, I guess they’re out of work.
Foreman: It’s Christmas time. They have families that are depending on this work.
Fly: Blame Steve Orbit.
Foreman: This is unbelievable.
Fly: Look, between you and me, I think Orbit gets out. I think he’ll be able to clear himself of at least some of the charges. However, the damage has been done. Mayor Cairo isn’t going to let Orbit own a spot in his city. He’s damaged goods. Cairo is going to try and seize this project from Orbit. He’ll then likely sell the rights off to someone and allow them to go through with construction. I’m in good position to be that guy. The mayor and I have a great relationship. Once I do get sole control of this property, I’ll bring you and your crew back under one condition.
Foreman: What’s that?
Fly points to the folder.
Fly: Ignore that. Have your guys keep working. When the time comes that I take over the deed, I’ll back pay each one of you for your work – plus a little late Christmas bonus.
Foreman: You want me to break the law?
Fly: I want you to tell a lie. Report back to the city that the structure is unstable and can’t be left alone at this point in time. Tell them that you’ll work only until the structure can be considered safe, and then you’ll end your work on site for the time being. Meanwhile, continue doing what you doing. Once I take over I want to get this place up and running as fast as possible and I can’t afford this delay. You’ll be well compensated for your work, and I assure you. If the city sends inspectors in here to try and shut you down, I’ll go to bat for you with the mayor.
The foreman considers what Fly is telling him.
Foreman: I thought it was Cairo who was shutting me down?
Fly: That’s right, but he’s only doing it to remove Orbit from the equation. He has to go through the court system to do that, and they’re the ones who have ordered construction stopped. It’s just a formality. Cairo has to make a case for the city to seize the property, and then he has to sell it over to me. He’s not going to come after you for continuing construction.
Foreman: So, all I have to do is report back that I can’t end construction right now because the building is liable to collapse, and then continue working as normal? Once the ownership rights are sorted out, we’ll get paid for our work.
Fly: That’s right.
Foreman: What happens if you don’t gain those rights?
Fly chuckles at the comment. He slaps the foreman on the back.
Fly: Not a chance in hell.
The foreman nods his head.
Foreman: Alright Jonny, you have a deal.
Fly and the foreman of the construction site shake hands.
Fly: Well then, back to work.
With that Fly turns and walks away. The scene comes to a close.
Our next scene begins at Jonny Fly’s mansion in New York City. Fly is sitting in his living room in front of the fireplace. The fire is burning and he’s slowly feeding pieces of paper into it. A stack of files, folders, and loose leaf paper is all stacked next to him. As we zoom in we see that most of the files are titled ‘Flyciety’ or ‘Organization Operations’ and other things of that nature. Little by little, Fly is burning off all of the documentation and evidence he has on the organization’s existence.
As Fly continues to feed the documents into the fire, we notice that his television is turned on above him. The TV is mounted on the wall above the fireplace and is currently tuned to WCF television. The always reporterific Hank Brown is currently on screen talking about a few of the matches coming up at One and showing clips of his latest WCF wrestler interviews. Hank continues talking and Fly continues burning off documents. On screen, Hank is brought to a pause. He holds his finger to his ear and then remarks.
Brown: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m getting some breaking news out of Nevada right now. It appears that WCF wrestler Steve Orbit has been released from prison today. Furthermore, sources have suggested that Orbit’s first order of business upon being released was to head to WCF headquarters in Reading, Pennsylvania to meet face-to-face with WCF Owner Sarah Twilight in hopes of regaining his spot in the One Main Event.
As you’ll certainly recall, news broke late last week that Orbit was in the process of clearing his name and fully intended to be at One, competing against Jonny Fly for the WCF World Title as previously scheduled. We even heard from Orbit’s lawyer that the company could face legal action from his client if the match is not reinstated. This latest report is a continuation of a series of events that started with Orbit being arrested by federal agents at Slam almost two weeks ago, and saw Sarah Twilight announce that the WCF’s resident nerdsmashers, Kevin and George! would be taking his spot against…
Brown stops himself again. His finger goes back to the ear. In a more excited tone, Hank continues.
Brown: YES! A twitter post from WCF’s own Bryan “Buzz” Worthy, the host of WCF’s weekly roundup, has confirmed that Steve Orbit WILL compete against Jonny Fly…
Cut. Fly turns off the television. He’s standing and staring at the blank screen.
Fly: Well, I’ll be damned. I guess it’s time to go to work.
Fly turns and walks out of the living room and into the hallway that would take you from either the living room or kitchen, to the front foyer of the house. Midway down the hallway, Fly opens up a closet door. From the top shelf he grabs a video camera and tripod. He returns to the living room and sets up the camera. With the camera ready, Fly takes his position on the loveseat in the living room. The light on the camera turns green and we begin.
Fly: I see that Steve Orbit has found his way out of prison. Not only that, he managed to find a way to sneak back into the Main Event of One. Therefore, we get the joy of watching a FELON compete on the biggest stage this company offers. Besides the obvious perception problems this will cause all of us as employees of this nuthouse, this brings another problem to the forefront. This is no longer just a World Title match. For one of us, this is redemption. At least, what he perceives to be redemption.
Fly pauses and licks his lips, smirking.
Fly: For my entire career I’ve gone out of my way to find motivation. Even when facing the biggest of Flyjobbers, I find something within that match that motivates me to go to the next level. For Steve Orbit, right now, he’s at that level. You all heard him say it; he wants to kill me. He wants to avenge the wrongs he believes that I’ve caused him. That’s as strong of motivation as you get and…it makes me smile.
To accentuate his point, Fly…you guessed it…smiles.
Fly: First off, I’ve done nothing to Steve Orbit. He’s fuckin’ batshit crazy. Secondly, and more importantly, this is what I live for. I have taken one of the best wrestlers in the fuckin’ universe and turned him into a delusional and bitter little man…and I haven’t even stepped into the ring with him. Contrary to what our criminal friend would have you all believe, I’m not scared of facing him at One. I’ve never done anything to avoid this match. I’m relishing the opportunity to knock that motherfucker off his high horse.
Fly leans forward in his seat.
Fly: …and I WILL wipe out that loss at Explosion. Like I’ve said before, I’ve beaten Steve Orbit. He’s ignoring that fact. Who pinned Steve Orbit for the Tag Team titles in April of this year? That would be me. We were LITERALLY side by side for the majority of War in September, but he slipped up, and after two and half hours I prevailed – like I always do. I prevailed at Ultimate Showdown in 2012, a match he was in and was barely relevant. Orbit lost his World Title to Nathan von Liebert, and I fucked that dude up WITH EASE at XIII. Orbit thinks these facts don’t matter because of Explosion, and that’s wrong. I don’t care what people remember, what they remember doesn’t win or lose matches. What does is talent, and those matches give us a broader window into Jonny Fly versus Steve Orbit. The fact remains, his record when sharing the ring with me is fuckin’ awful. No…I’m not scared of Steve Orbit. He managed to get his win on me, and that’s a tall task for any wrestler…but twice?
Fly scoffs.
Fly: That’s not going to happen. Not in this world. I am DONE making Steve Orbit relevant. He’s clung to my name for far too long. He tried to use the path I blazed last year to prop up his own emergence in the company and ensuing Television Title run. He was ‘the next Jonny Fly.’ Then, he stalled out. Dead in the fuckin’ water. It was me who threw out the line. I challenged him to step it the fuck up, to BE LIKE ME. He gave it all he had for a few months. He climbed to the very top. He pinned the most dominant wrestler in the world, me, no doubt about it. Then he took that momentum and scored his first World Title. Then…he went back to doing nothing. He lost the belt in a month. Slipped up at War, watching as I took back the company from him, Nathan, Eric Price, and everyone else. Since then, I tried to take him relevant again. We’ve teamed up a bunch, we were dominating, and it was all good for him. Hell, I helped him get this fuckin’ match! These are the facts, people. I’ve been propping Steve Orbit up this entire time. Now, he stands on his own…and without me behind him…he’ll fall…like he always does.
Fly stares intently into the camera as his last words reverberate around the room.
Fly: Orbit says this match is personal, and he’s right…for all the wrong reasons. This match is about me shedding my skin. The skin of my association with Steve Orbit, the underachiever, make-believe pimp, and criminal. It’s over. No more of him getting to be the sidekick, no more me dragging him into my spotlight so he can taste what it’s like to be the best in the fuckin’ world. I’m going to consume Steve Orbit. I’m going to take his motivation, his hunger, and his need for revenge and shove it back down his throat until he gags it up like the little pussy bitch that he is.
Steve Orbit, I don’t want to beat you. I already have.
You’re on the card against Jonny Fly. The result is already fixed.
You’re out of your league. You’re not special. You’re not better than me. You’ll learn the hard way…
Jonny Fly always wins in the end.
With that, Fly pops up from his seat and turns off the camera. He takes out the tape and looks at it for a moment. Something is missing, he decides. He sets the tape down and grabs another, putting the new tape into the camera. Fly re-takes his seat.
Fly: Just finished a promo, Orbit. It’s…pretty good, I guess. One thing seemed to be missing though. Obviously I’d be a fuckin’ idiot to send a tape to WCF with me admitting I did anything wrong to you. So I really didn’t get the chance to respond directly to some of your more...accusing…comments. With that said, I want you to know that, yes; I planned all of this from the start.
Fly’s trademark smirk comes back.
Fly: Can we be honest with each other for once? You’re soft, Orbit. You always have been and you always will be. That’s a personal trait you can’t hide. I don’t know how a man like you can grow up on the streets, then start hustling women, and still be such a fuckin’ vagina. Alas, it’s not my problem to bear. What it was, was opportunity. I needed a fall guy and you…Steve…were a perfect candidate. You met all of the qualifications. You’re easy to manipulate, dumb, and above all else, you look the part.
Fly laughs as he finishes the comment.
Fly: I mean no offense. Look at yourself. You’re African-American, you wear bright colored suits, gold chains, and go around calling yourself “The Mack.” It fits a certain stereotype, am I right? Think about it, Orbit. You have the look of a criminal, but not the mind. I have the mind of a criminal, but not the look. I’m tall, dark, and handsome. I’m well dressed, successful, and world famous. You’re a grubby ex-pimp, shitty club owner, and dating borderline hookers. We were the perfect mix. Can’t you appreciate the genius of my plan?
Fly scoffs once again.
Fly: Of course not. Poor Steve Orbit has been wronged. He’s mad. Jonny Fly pulled one over on him. Get over yourself, Orbit. You wanted to play the game. You wanted a shot at this life. I didn’t force you to do what you did. Deep down, this is what you want. You want to run the streets. You want to be like me. You don’t want to grind anymore. You want to be the motherfucker decked out in the barney rubble suits in the penthouse looking down on the entire fuckin’ world. I just want the same thing, and unlike you Orbit, I have the balls to do what it takes to make that happen.
Fly pauses briefly, looking into the camera.
Fly: If we can’t settle on that truth, at least let us settle on a different one. You can’t kill me. I could give you a gun, stand two feet in front of you with my hands tied behind my back and you wouldn’t be able to take that shot. That’s the EXACT reason why I just ate you up and spat you back out. Now, you think you can kill me in a wrestling ring? Motherfucker, I OWN the canvas. There isn’t a man alive who can deliver the promise you’ve made. In that squared circle, I’m invincible. I’m the King, Emperor, and Sovereign Leader of the wrestling empire. You’re the whore. The bitch I use when I need to fuck … (slight pause) … over, someone. It’s about time you get on the same wavelength as the rest of the roster when it comes to Jonny Fly. You are inferior. You are living in my god damn world, Orbit.
Fly looks down momentarily, uttering the following words.
Fly: Prophet and Profit.
Fly looks back up.
Fly: A prophet predicts the future. I profit from correctly predicting what comes next. In business, in avoiding the FBI, in the ring – I always know what’s next. I’m always a step ahead. I do promos every week and TELL people they’re going to lose, and what happens?
Fly nods his head up and down, insinuating the answer to that question.
Fly: Listen to me Orbit, I know your future. It’s bleak. I know where this ends for you. It doesn’t end with the destruction of the Era of Jonny Fly, no. I’m infallible. It ends with you looking up at me as I raise the WCF World Title over my head in victory as the last imagery of 2013. The Wrestler of the Year, the World Champion of the Year, embarrassed, broken, and beaten. This match isn’t the end of Jonny Fly. This is the end of Steve Orbit as we know it.
When I’m done with you, you’ll get up off the mat, and limp out of the ring and take that walk of shame to the back empty-handed. Pride destroyed. Dreams destroyed. Career on life support once again.
But me, I’ll still be living, and I’ll still be the WCF World Champion.
So proclaims the prophet.
With those last words, Fly gets up and turns the camera off. The scene immediately cuts to black.
