A Fly in the Ointment: Episode Two
Jan 12, 2014 12:46:35 GMT -5
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Post by Jonny Fly on Jan 12, 2014 12:46:35 GMT -5
Our scene begins in the waiting room of Dr. Stella Montgomery’s office. It’s the same office from last week, that of Jonny Fly’s new (and old) therapist. Fly has just entered the room through the glass entry door. He walks through the waiting room and toward the receptionist. It’s the same rather portly woman from last week, wearing the same bland as hell blue pantsuit. She looks like the world’s biggest pile of beige play dough wrapped a little TOO tightly in what could easily be mistaken as your grandmother’s blue flower patterned quilt. The behemoth looks ups to see the wrestling industry’s prodigal son staring down at her.
Receptionist: Hello again.
Fly: I have an appointment this time. Jonny Fly at 3:00 PM. I might also be listed under “World’s Greatest Wrestler.” I’m not sure which name I gave last week.
The receptionist rolls her eyes, unamused (bitch) and looks down at her computer.
Receptionist: Alright, I see you in here.
Fly: Under World’s Greatest Wrestler? I really should consider having that changed to my legal name. It just fits.
Receptionist: NO. You’re under the name Jonny Fly. If you could just have a seat the doctor will be with you in a bit.
Fly turns around and looks back at the waiting room. This time there’s six men sitting there, all waiting patiently for their visit with Stella the skank. Fly scowls and turns back toward the receptionist.
Fly: I thought the point of having an appointment was to not have to wait.
Receptionist: I’m sorry Mr. Fly, but the doctor is a bit behind schedule today. She’ll be with you shortly, don’t worry. Just take a seat.
Fly: I don’t know if you know this, but I’m pretty famous. My time is important. I can’t afford to waste it sitting around. I made an appointment for 3:00 PM, and…
Fly takes a look down at his watch. His rolex watch. His diamond GMT-Master II watch, to be exact. If the lady standing in front of him wasn’t a blue blob of ugly stuff, she’d be creaming her pants right now.
Fly: …it’s 3:00 PM. I’m going in.
Super Fly turns to his right and finds the hallway leading past the receptionist’s little box (not a vagina joke) to Dr. Montgomery’s office. The round mound of reception gets flustered as she sees Fly disobeying her.
Receptionist: No! You can’t go back there!
Too late. Fly is nearly halfway down the hallway before the largess women can even get out of her seat to try to stop him. He reaches Dr. Montgomery’s door and opens it without inhibition. As the door swings open we see Dr. Montgomery’s patient zipping up the back of her short, short, short skit.
Fly: The fuck is this?
Both the doctor and her patient immediately look toward the door in horror. Dr. Montgomery clears her throat and responds, stuttering just a bit in guilt.
Dr. Montgomery: OH..uh..this isn’t what it looks like. He…he was just…uh…you don’t know how much of a pain those zippers are and…uh…it was stuck so…yeah.
The doctor spins around toward her patient.
Dr. Montgomery: Mr. Reynolds, thank you so much. I think that would conclude our meeting this week. I’ll see you at the same time next week.
Sheepishly, the patient nods his head and walks toward the door. He tries to push past Fly, but the Fly can’t allow that. There’s something he has to do. It wouldn’t be right if he didn’t. He grabs hold of the patient and pulls him close, whispering…
Fly: You should probably get yourself checked.
“Mr. Reynolds” pulls his head back and looks at Fly in confusion.
Fly: STD’s. It’s the silent killer!
The patient walks away hurriedly, leaving Fly standing in the doorway. He looks back to Dr. Montgomery.
Dr. Montgomery: That wasn’t very nice of you.
Fly: I probably just saved his life. You have serious problems. You need your own therapist for sexual addiction.
Dr. Montgomery: You want to give me some “therapy?”
Fly groans out loud. He considers running away momentarily, but relents. He closes the door behind him and walks all the way into the room. The doctor walks back to her desk and grabs her chair and notepad. She rolls it over to the couch set up in the middle of the room for her patients. She looks over at Fly and points to the couch.
Dr. Montgomery: I assume you’re here for your meeting, so you better take a seat.
Fly looks at the couch, then back to Dr. Montgomery.
Fly: You two didn’t fuck on that couch did you?
Dr. Montgomery: Of course not, we used my desk.
A quick scan over to her desk confirms the previous statement. The desktop is completely devoid of all items – even her computer seems to have been violently tossed onto the ground amongst a stack of papers, folders, and like items. Fly shakes his head, mostly in disgust, and takes a seat on the couch. Dr. Montgomery sits down and takes a scan of her notepad.
Dr. Montgomery: Alright, it looks like we ended last week with you feeling some regret about the things you’ve done to get where you’re at today in the wrestling industry. You mentioned that you feel a need to almost kill your opponents. Without that anger, you feel like you might lose your edge in the ring, and thus that’s been your biggest roadblock in making the changes you want to make in your life. Does that about sum it up?
Fly: I didn’t say “almost” kill. I want to kill all of them. It’s a curse. Kind of like you and the every-minute-of-the-day desire to stick hard objects in your cooch.
Dr. Montgomery: Oh come on you’re not one to talk.
Fly: …yeah, I guess you’re right.
Dr. Montgomery: Let’s get back on topic. I want to ask you one simple question; why do you feel you’re a better wrestler than everyone else?
Fly: What? Have you never seen me wrestle? It’s what I imagine it would be like to watch Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel – if you’re into that sort of thing.
Dr. Montgomery: Just answer the question.
Fly: I’m superiorly athletic. At this point in my career, despite no formal teaching I’ll have you know, I’m a skilled technician. I’m fearless and strong. I’m aggressive when I need to be, smart and calculated when I need to be. Lastly, and absolutely most importantly, I’m tough, not just physically but mentally. I can absorb more punishment than anyone else in this industry.
Dr. Montgomery: Would you call that last part a mindset?
Fly: Yes, I would. I’ve said that before. I don’t give up. I don’t quit. I’ve met very few wrestlers capable of taking me to the brink. Even those individuals who are capable, they don’t have my heart, drive, or passion. I’m the total package. In the squared circle…I have no flaws. I’m perfection personified.
Dr. Montgomery: So if that’s the case, why do you believe that a change in attitude will make you lose your edge?
Fly considers the comment for a brief second. He hates nearly everyone in the wrestling industry. True hatred. He’s been hesitant to change that mindset because he believes it’s one of the things that makes him so successful.
Fly: I guess it’s just an issue of comfort. I am the way I am. It’s been successful. Change brings an unknown element into the mix, and that’s not necessary.
Dr. Montgomery: If you truly believe you win matches because of superior talent, superior toughness, experience and smarts…acting like you don’t want to kill your opponents and not always being an asshole isn’t going to change anything. You have to learn the line. When you’re in the ring, all bets are off. When you’re out of the ring, act like a human being. Embrace your fellow wrestlers.
Fly: It’s just not that easy for me. I can’t fake this. I don’t like any of the wrestlers I work with. I don’t care for any one of them. Well, maybe a few, but that’s not my point. What benefit is it to me to act cordial to these people? What do I get out of it?
The doctor thinks over the question momentarily, formulating an answer.
Dr. Montgomery: Who better than to tell the stories of the “great Jonny Fly” than your fellow wrestlers? Warriors long ago were known to leave witnesses behind to tell tales of their exploits. It created fear and helped enhance that warrior’s legacy. The same concept could apply to you. Throw out the anger and hate. Stop trying to “kill” everyone. Use your colleagues to your benefit. The industry can be mutually beneficial.
Fly: I don’t see how that’s possible. If a wrestler benefits from me, I’m not doing what I’m supposed to do. That means I’ve lost, or someone else has surpassed me in some way.
Dr. Montgomery: That’s not true at all. Let me ask you this; if your match against Steve Orbit was a blowout, do you think the win would have still been a big deal?
Fly: Of course. It would just be another example of my continued dominance.
Dr. Montgomery: Are you sure about that? It wouldn’t just mean that Steve Orbit wasn’t worthy of being in a match of that magnitude? It wouldn’t just mean that he was weak and the match was a bad idea to begin with?
Fly: But…Orbit isn’t weak. He’s legit. Everyone knows that.
Dr. Montgomery: People only know what they see. What they saw were you gutting out a victory against an exceptional wrestler. They saw drive and passion that was unparalleled, and yet another chapter in the story of the “nearly unpinnable” Jonny Fly. People don’t care about blowouts, Jonny. They don’t make you look strong. They just make your opponent look weak. The Fly-Orbit match was an instant classic. The next time you embarrass someone in a match, let me know if that becomes an instant classic.
Fly: So what…I just need to manipulate everyone? Tell them I love them so that they perform better, which in turn makes me look good for continuing to beat them?
Dr. Montgomery: No, this is not manipulation.
Fly: Look, I know manipulation. I’m good at that. I’ve been doing it my whole life. What you’re telling me to do is manipulate people - using them to spread stories of my greatness.
Dr. Montgomery: You have to create a line of what is acceptable and what is not acceptable outside of the ring. You need to focus your negative energy into the ring. Outside of the ring, you need to understand that without the other wrestlers on the roster…there is no Jonny Fly. Your losses, the few that there may be, they make you human. That’s a good thing!
Fly: There’s no way that’s a good thing. I can understand some of what you’re saying. It makes sense. However, losing matches isn’t a good thing. Ever. That’s the problem with most of this industry, these guys settle for that garbage. If you’re not in this business to be the best then what the fuck are you doing?
Dr. Montgomery: Have you or have you not avenged every single loss you’ve had in the WCF.
Fly: I have.
Dr. Montgomery: Then explain to me how they were bad things? They showed the rest of the company that you’re not a robot. Losses happen. That gives them hope. For you, you’ve shown that even if they can manage to defeat you, you’ll have your revenge. You’ll win in the end. Those losses become part of your character, as does how you react to them. If your reaction is to ACTUALLY get a gun and go looking to shoot them, that just makes you a sore loser. A bitch, as you might say.
Fly: That…
Fly stops. His first reaction is to fight the doctor’s words. However, they’ve resonated with him. He begins to understand what she’s saying.
Fly: …actually makes some sense.
Dr. Montgomery: There’s no reason to have this “me against the world” mentality. The chip on your shoulder should have left a long time ago. You have it all. Your career will go down as one of the greatest ever, no matter what happens from this point on. It’s time to start enjoying that a little more. It’s time to have fun with this. You’re rich, famous, and good at what you do. You shouldn’t have a care in the world.
As the doctor talks, Fly nods along. As she finishes he smiles as if he’s seen the wisdom in her words. He adjusts in his seat and leans forward. He speaks softly.
Fly: I’ve never been in an environment that isn’t competitive. It’s literally all that I know. I grew up defending myself on the streets, scrounging for food, trying to protect my few friends. Then wrestling came calling and let’s face it, life sucks for a young wrestler. At every turn you’re trying to prove yourself. The business world was no different, avoiding trouble with cops and the FBI…
Fly’s words trail off. He looks down at the floor and slowly sits back in his chair. He laughs a bit, reflecting on all that he’s gone through during his lifetime.
Fly: People think I have it so good because I’m a GOD on the canvas. Nothing has come easy. I’ve fought for it all, and I just don’t know how to turn that off all of a sudden.
Dr. Montgomery: Consider it another fight. A fight within. Expect better of yourself, and challenge yourself to get where you want to be.
Fly: I think you’re right. I think I can start doing that. When I’m in the ring, be me. When I’m not, stop carrying around phantom grudges. Nobody has done anything to me. We’re all just doing our job, trying to make a living while having some fun.
Dr. Montgomery beams proudly. She slaps her hand over her knee.
Dr. Montgomery: I think you’re finally getting it. The key now is to retrain yourself. Go out of your way to do nice things for people, say nice and encouraging things to people, that sort of stuff.
Fly goes into full frowny-face mode.
Fly: I don’t think I’m…quite…ready to dive into this THAT much. I’m not going to play world’s cheerleader, doc.
Dr. Montgomery: You don’t have to dive in with both feet right off the bat. Start slow. Have you not done any good deeds this week?
Fly: Well, I filled out some job applications on behalf of Seifer Black Armstrong. Unfortunately, the three Hot Topics in the Toronto area aren’t hiring at this point in time. Something about not having a lot of goth kids in Canada, so business is down. Also, I met a couple of guys who seemed pretty cool so I set them up with Chelsea Black Armstrong’s home address. She’s going to be in the market for a new guy soon enough, so I figured I’d try to play matchmaker.
Dr. Montgomery: Uh…
Fly cuts off the doctor. He holds up his hands innocently.
Fly: Now, I admit, that last one comes with some trade off. I did a bad think and broke into the WCF employment database to get her address but…it’s not my fault they haven’t changed the password on the system since I was owner. They made it too easy for me, so in a way…I can’t be held responsible.
Dr. Montgomery: What I was going to ask is what makes you think Chelsea is looking for a new man?
Fly: Common sense. Her husband can’t wrestle, can’t provide for her, he’s ugly and dumb as hell. It’s just a matter of time until that marriage ends in the shitter.
Dr. Montgomery: You consider those to be good deeds?
Fly: …are they not?
A smile curls onto the doctor’s lips. She’s always been a bit infatuated by the other side of Jonny Fly, the carefree and humorous side.
Dr. Montgomery: Let’s talk more about Chelsea since you’re facing her this week.
Fly: I suppose this match is vengeance for her and her family. It’s the age old tale, you have the damsel in distress, Seifer, and then the man, Chelsea, who comes to her rescue and saves the day.
Dr. Montgomery scowls and gives Fly a stern look.
Dr. Montgomery: No, no. Be serious.
Fly: I am. Chelsea has the balls in that family. That’s a true fact.
Dr. Montgomery: So you consider her a good wrestler?
Fly: No, she’s fuckin’ terrible.
Another stern look from the doctor follows. Fly notices and attempts to soften his statement.
Fly: Right. I mean, she’s not terrible. I don’t mean that. She’s alright. She’s had more success at this stage in her WCF career than most, certainly more than the crop of wrestlers she came in with. I just don’t think she’s at my level. Actually, I’m sure of it.
Dr. Montgomery: What exactly leads you to believe that?
Fly: I’ve been doing this a long time. I know wrestling, I know wrestlers. I’ve watched Chelsea and I know exactly what I’m in store for. I’m sure she’ll step her game up this week, but it’s not going to matter. I’m always prepared for that. I know I have a target on my back every week. Everyone wants to beat me. Yet, I still prevail…every. single. time.
Dr. Montgomery: So you know because…you know? That doesn’t seem like a valid answer.
Fly: I’ve watched her wrestle. She’s average. I’m not average. This match is going to be an eye-opening experience for her. I sense she has some confidence because of last week, and of course she feels like she has to do this for her family, but nobody cares about last week. Six man clusterfuck matches don’t make you better than Jonny Fly.
Dr. Montgomery suddenly stands up and immediately walks over to her desk. She touches a button on her phone and pages the receptionist.
Dr. Montgomery: Martha, please cancel the rest of my appointments for the day.
Montgomery hangs up the phone and looks back at Fly.
Fly: What are you doing?
Dr. Montgomery: You are going to take me out.
Fly’s eyes grow wide. He stands up and walks toward Dr. Montgomery. Pointing at her, he replies…
Fly: No. Hell no. FUCK NO.
Dr. Montgomery walks forward and grabs hold of Fly’s shirt. She curls up next to his chest.
Dr. Montgomery: Oh come on, it’s for a good reason. I’m won’t try…too much. I’m going to dress up as Chelsea Black Robison and teach you how to respect a woman…I mean, colleague. Consider it part of your reprogramming.
Fly goes in slanty eye mode.
Fly: What the hell are you trying to do?
Dr. Montgomery: It’s a roleplay. One between you and Chelsea Black Armstrong.
Fly: You’re trying to take me out on a date.
Dr. Montgomery: Nope. Strictly professional.
Fly cocks his head slightly to the side and rolls his eyes.
Dr. Montgomery: Pick me up in two hours? A girl has to get dolled up, you know.
Fly’s face is empty of expression. He just stares at Dr. Montgomery with his mouth slightly agape. Without a word, he turns and slowly walks away. Our scene comes to a close.
The next scene begins at Union Square Café on East 16th Street in New York City, New York. Despite Corey Black insistence that there aren’t nice places to take a woman in New York City, here we are. We enter through the glass door on the street and immediately turn left and enter the dining area of the Café. Sitting in the back left corner of the room at a private table is Jonny Fly and Dr. Stella Montgomery. Fly and Dr. Montgomery already have wine glasses on their table and are separated only by a lit candle in the middle of the table.
Our camera approaches the two of them as they sit in their seats looking through the menu. Fly is wearing his traditional attire, full suit, dress shoes, the works. The dude looks good. On the other hand, Dr. Montgomery is wearing a black leather jacket, black corset, black shorts, black fishnets, and black boots. She’s even streaked her hair red for the occasion. She fits in with the rest of the crowd like Shannan Lerch fits into an abstinence education program. The scene’s dialogue begins.
Fly: The seared tuna is good. I’ve had it before.
Dr. Montgomery: That’s so sweet of you, Jonny. It’s really nice of you to show a girl around the big city like this. Where I grew up, in the valley, we didn’t have these types of fancy restaurants.
Fly: I thought you were from Toronto? That’s a pretty big city. A lot of culture there, I’m fairly certain they have fancy restaurants.
Dr. Montgomery gives Fly an evil look. Clearly she hasn’t done the proper research on the character she is playing. Fly ignores her angry stares and looks back at his menu.
Dr. Montgomery: So, seared tuna you say? Why should I trust you? You’re always so mean to me.
Fly: That’s because you’re a dumbass.
Another evil look appears on the doctor’s face. Fly isn’t taking this ‘session’ serious and it’s making the crazy therapist dressed up like Chelsea Black Armstrong one unhappy hoe. Being the good sport that he is, Fly decides to start playing along.
Fly: I mean, you look very pretty in your gothic girl outfit this evening. You fit in well at this type of restaurant. Don’t mind all of the rest of the women in exquisite dresses; your Xena Warrior Princess outfit is much better.
Yes, that’s his version of playing along.
Dr. Montgomery: Is that sarcasm?
Fly: Uh…nope. I’m never sarcastic. I’m just really enjoying the chance to get to know one of my fellow wrestlers. I think very highly of you, Chelsea. You might be the new Sarah Twilight. If you play your cards right I might write you a love letter.
Dr. Montgomery: Say my name again.
Fly: Uh…Chelsea...I guess?
The doctor seems to be getting some pleasure out of Fly saying her make-believe name.
Dr. Montgomery: Well, I figured that even though we are competitors this week, we don’t need to be at one another’s throats. We’re both professionals and we can act like it.
Fly: Right. So tell me a little about yourself, uh…Chelsea.
Dr. Montgomery: Well, currently I’m very depressed…
Fly: Because you’re facing me this week?
Dr. Montgomery: NO. I’m sad because it’s been a struggle here in WCF. Sometimes I feel like I should just give up.
Fly eyes lower. He can almost sense the hurt in the doctor’s words, as Chelsea.
Fly: Let me tell you something, from a man who has seen and done it all. If you ever let this industry, or the people within it, get you down…then you’ll never get where you want to go. There is NEVER struggle. There is only the next match, the next win.
Dr. Montgomery: I just get so angry. I can’t help it.
Fly: Anger is natural. You’re talking to me, the angriest motherfucker out there. You harness that anger, and you transfer every ounce of it back into the ring. I’ve won more matches than I care to share just because I hated my opponent so much that I REFUSED to let them pin me. Anger is good, depression is not. Keep your head up – you have a long career in front of you and things aren’t going to come easily.
Dr. Montgomery: I don’t know why you’re giving me advice. You’re heartless. You’re almost…evil. You think this is just a week off for you.
Fly: Do you take offense to that? Do you think I should approach this differently? Look Chelsea, my approach is infallible. It’s above questioning. The way I do things works. Instead of crying about it, you should be taking notes. What are you expecting from me? Am I supposed to cave to the whims of one Chelsea Black Armstrong? Should I just take a dive in this match, let you win, and become a part of the most exclusive club in professional wrestling – those who have managed to defeat Jonny Fly?
Dr. Montgomery: I didn’t say that, but I’m a decorated wrestler. I know my way around the ring. Nobody walks all over me.
Fly: You might be right. I don’t know yet. However, I do know that you haven’t faced someone like me before. All of your friends, your Stacy and Matt Robinson’s, your husband Seifer, they’re not comparable to me. I am the end all be all in this industry. I’m not trying to be arrogant. It’s a fact, one that I’ve spent a decade crafting. Will I walk all over you? Maybe not. I might even respect you when it’s all over and done with…but I’m still going to win.
At this point the waiter approaches the table. Wearing dress pants, a white long-sleeve dress shirt with a black vest over top, and a bow tie, the waiters look to Fly.
Waiter: Sir…
He then looks toward Dr. Montgomery.
Waiter: Ma’am, are you ready to order?
Dr. Montgomery puts her menu down on the table and answers the question.
Dr. Montgomery: Yes, I’ll have the seared tuna with the side of risotto.
The waiter writes down the order on a pad.
Waiter: Excellent choice, madam.
He then turns his attention to Fly who has also set down his menu.
Waiter: For you, sir?
Fly: I’ll have the Prime New York Strip Steak with the mashed potatoes.
Waiter: Ah, another outstanding choice. Very well. I’ll go put your order in right now.
The waiter grabs the menus off the table and walks away in the direction of the kitchen. Fly grabs hold of his wine glass and takes a drink. As he sets the glass back on the table he looks toward Dr. Montgomery/Chelsea.
Fly: What does this match mean to you?
Dr. Montgomery: I don’t like being underestimated. I don’t DESERVE to be underestimated. This match is going to redemption for my family, and it’s also going to serve notice to the rest of the company that I am someone they should fear.
Fly: I don’t fear you. I’ll never fear you.
Dr. Montgomery: Well, you should.
Fly shakes his head “no.”
Fly: Believe it or not, there are a lot of wrestlers who can get ‘up’ for one match at a time. If you want to be feared, you have to sustain success. Nobody cared who I was here even after I went 10-0 in my first ten matches here. Now, as a four-time World Champion, Ultimate Showdown winner, War winner, and one of the few who’ve had the honor of being in the Main Event of One…now I’m feared. Stop worrying about everyone else, Chelsea. Stop worrying about what people think, what they do, all that nonsense. Worry about you. I’ll ask this question again now, what does this match mean to YOU? This time, don’t give me that canned shit about Seifer and the rest of the roster.
Dr. Montgomery sits back in her seat. She’s not Chelsea Black Armstrong, so she doesn’t have a clue on how to answer the question. Instead, she changes the subject.
Dr. Montgomery: I have an idea.
Fly: Yeah? What’s that.
Dr. Montgomery: We have desert at my house.
Fly: Chelsea…are you trying to take advantage of me? What would you husband think of this development?
Fly grabs hold of his wine glass, and tips it toward his therapist.
Fly: Also, I don’t think I’ve had quite enough of this to sleep with a depressed gothic Canadian.
Dr. Montgomery: What about a horny therapist?
…and with that, Jonny Fly drank the rest of his wine. He reaches across the table and takes Dr. Montgomery’s glass and downs that as well.
Fly: I knew this was a set-up.
Dr. Montgomery: Don’t I look hot dressed like this?
Fly: Uh…no. The only hot Canadian in leather is Pamela Anderson in Barb Wire.
Dr. Montgomery: I’m not Canadian!
Fly: Oh, right. We’re not playing pretend anymore. My point is still valid.
Dr. Montgomery: Oh come on, you were doing well in talking to Chelsea. You passed my test. You weren’t too much of a douchebag; you were talking to her like a colleague. You even tried to help her sort her way through the struggles she’s dealing with. It was good. Now the two of us can enjoy ourselves.
Fly: I passed?
Dr. Montgomery: What can I say? You’re the teacher’s favorite.
Fly smiles and immediately stands up. He tosses his napkin onto the table and pulls out his wallet. He sets two $100 bills on the table.
Fly: It looks like we’re done here then. I’ll see you next week, doc. Enjoy your dinner.
…and then, boom, like a phantom Jonny Fly disappears, narrowly escaping the sexual wrath of his therapist – at least for this week. The scene comes to a close.
The next scene begins at Jonny Fly’s mansion in New York City. The man himself is lying on the sofa in his living room and watching tape of Chelsea Black Armstrong talking to Hank Brown on WCF television. Suddenly, Fly sits up and turns off the television. He gets up from the couch and walks toward out of his living room and into the kitchen. To the right against the wall is an elevator. Fly pushes the button and the elevator doors open in front of him. He steps inside and pushes for the door to close. The elevator brings to action and takes Fly one level below his house to the underground arena that serves as his basement.
The elevator opens onto the arena’s concourse. Fly steps out and walks forward down a flight of stairs to ringside. He slides into the ring and stands up on his feet. He takes a second to look around at the empty arena, and smiles. He steps forward and leans on the ropes, making eye contact with the camera.
Chelsea Black Armstrong…wherever you are at…listen to me.
I’m going to share with you some advice. I honestly don’t care if you heed the following words. That’s a decision you have to make on your own. But…
Stop this charade. Just_fucking_stop.
I want you to forget about me for a second, and whatever our match would mean to you and Seifer. I want you to look out at the rest of the roster. In your mind, take a snapshot at every one of your fellow wrestlers. Look at where those individuals are at. Then look back at me. Look where I am at. Look at my resume, track record. LISTEN to people when they talk about me. Hell, look around this place.
Fly holds out his hands as he looks around the arena again.
Who do you want to be like? You’re somewhat new. You’re still choosing what path you want to take in this company. Which way do you want to go? Do you want to be stuck in midcard purgatory for the rest of your days, or do you want something more for yourself? If this answer isn’t that you want to be like me, then you’re not doing it right. I’m not telling you to use my methods or act like me. I’m simply stating; I am the standard. There’s no question about it.
I know you want to believe that this match is meaningful because of what I did to Seifer…but it’s not. Truthfully, I didn’t do anything to Seifer. I did my job. I won a match that he personally requested. I GAVE him the honor of that match. I did him a favor. At the end of the day, it was Sarah Twilight who fired him. Yet…I’m the bad guy.
That’s the charade.
I’m not the bad guy, Chelsea. I’m THE guy. That’s what you need to know. This “family vengeance” angle is dumb, Chelsea. It’s fuckin’ stupid. Your husband wanted to test his mettle against the best. I obliged him. He lost. Yeah, I know you have some issues with how the match was decided. You feel that in a no disqualification match my use of the ropes to secure victory was underhanded. That’s fuckin’ stupid as well. Congratulations, you’re now two for two. The ropes are allowed in a no disqualification match. You do know wrestling rules, right?
Fly pauses and holds up his hand.
Sorry about that. I’m getting carried away. I’m trying not be condescending here, but I’m still working on that. I should have you know, I’m not even the guy who made all the matches no disqualification. You and Seifer call me crafty. I AM crafty. I am smart. I’ve been doing this a long time. I know how to win matches. Your husband should have known as much when he decided to call me out. Look around this place, Chelsea. This is my life. I’m a wrestling junkie. A savant, if you would. You call it cheating, but that’s selling me short. I don’t appreciate that, especially for someone who is so vocal about others doing the same thing to her.
Fly shakes his head in mock disgust. He lifts himself off the ropes and begins pacing around the ring. The camera stays with him as he walks.
I did not cheat to beat Seifer. I don’t need to cheat to beat Seifer. I don’t need to cheat to beat you. I didn’t become the wrestler I am today by cheating. I didn’t become the wrestler that I am today by allowing someone to walk into the company I work for, run his mouth, demand matches against me while acting like he’s something special, guaranteeing victory…and then allow him to walk all over me. Are you kidding me? Who would allow that garbage? I’d be the laughing stock of this fuckin’ company. If that’s what I am guilty of, then fine. So be it. Let’s not be childish though, your boy Seifer shares every bit of the blame. You both should stop living in a fuckin’ bubble and realize that.
Fly pauses after that last line, and stops pacing. He turns to face the camera once again.
That brings me to you and I, Chelsea. This match is personal for you. You’ve all but said that. For me, this is nothing. I hope you understand that. I’m being thrown into the ring with another pissed off Black Armstrong who wants nothing more than to beat me. There’s nothing I have to gain here. This match is all about you, one-hundred percent. What I’m telling you is that you need to understand exactly what you have to gain here, and it’s not avenging your poor husband. It’s really not. This match can put you on the cusp of superstardom. The type of level Seifer will never achieve. You’re not going out there to beat me, you’re going out there to choose what path you’re going to take. The path of Jonny Fly, or the path of the countless Flyjobbers.
Fly smiles at the mass dig on the roster.
While we’re talking about my path, let’s talk about the World Title for a moment. You want to beat me, but you “don’t care” about the World Title. I mean come on; everyone says that who isn’t the World Champion, Chelsea. That line is played out. Cut it out of your vocabulary. You would gladly take the World Title from me at first opportunity. I know that and so does the rest of the world. The fact is that I’m the World Champion, and I am so for good reason. I’m the first World Champion this company can be proud of in a long time.
I’ll include myself in that statement. I’ve been the World Champion three times before. My reigns weren’t the same then. Your problems with me are strictly because I act like the World Champion. I wouldn’t let Seifer walk all over me, I don’t acknowledge the younger group of wrestlers as threats to me, and I’ve said that I’m better than you. What the hell do you expect? Stop being so fuckin’ sensitive. What I do at the top of this company’s hierarchy is good for it. I push people to their limits. I make everyone better. Just look at yourself…have you ever been more amped up for a match since you joined this company?
Exactly.
That’s my influence. That’s why it’s idiotic to act like you don’t want the World Title. You’re not better than my title, so quit acting like it. It’s the symbol of the ultimate accomplishment in this industry. If you don’t want that, then quit. Get the fuck out of here. A mindset like that does not beat Jonny Fly, consider that a warning.
Fly begins to pace around the ring once again.
You need to refocus yourself, Chelsea. You’re not focused on the things that are important in this industry. You’re not even focused on the person who truly wronged your family. You’re all over the place right now. I’m just trying to help put it in perspective for you. The only reason you would have to blame me for your family’s struggles is because you WANT me to be at fault. You want heat with me. Like Seifer before you, you want your shot at the measuring stick. You want to test your mettle and see if you have what it takes to become a certified Main Event wrestler in this company.
Once again - charade.
I’m the king of misdirection, Chelsea. I saw this from a mile away. If that’s truly what’s going on here, good. You shouldn’t let your husband’s ignorance and Sarah Twilight’s wrath get in the way of you making a career for yourself. Someone has to be the bread winner in your family, right? It’s noble. However, this is the point where I have to tell you exactly what’s going to happen on Sunday. Despite this match meaning nothing to me, I’m going to give you the match you deserve. Around these parts, we call it “the full Jonny Fly experience.” It’s basically a button I push and then go into “always win” mode.
Fly stops and laughs. He shakes his head.
No, no…I can’t lie. Obviously that’s not true. It just means that I’m not going to loaf through this match. I’ll even give you more than I gave Seifer, after all, I should – you’re better than him. If you win, then I hope the chip on your shoulder disappears. It’s forced, Chelsea. There’s no legitimate reason for it. It’s all an act. You’re in this business because you’re a competitor. Well…I am THE competition. Nobody else around here is going to give you a better show. When it’s all said and done, win or lose, you should be proud of yourself. I mean that. It means that you stood toe-to-toe with Jonny Fly, the world’s greatest wrestler.
…and lost.
There’s no shame in that, and it’s nothing personal. Good luck…and give my best to Seifer.
Fly winks at the camera and slides back out of the ring. He begins ascending the stairs back to the elevator as the scene slowly fades to black.
Receptionist: Hello again.
Fly: I have an appointment this time. Jonny Fly at 3:00 PM. I might also be listed under “World’s Greatest Wrestler.” I’m not sure which name I gave last week.
The receptionist rolls her eyes, unamused (bitch) and looks down at her computer.
Receptionist: Alright, I see you in here.
Fly: Under World’s Greatest Wrestler? I really should consider having that changed to my legal name. It just fits.
Receptionist: NO. You’re under the name Jonny Fly. If you could just have a seat the doctor will be with you in a bit.
Fly turns around and looks back at the waiting room. This time there’s six men sitting there, all waiting patiently for their visit with Stella the skank. Fly scowls and turns back toward the receptionist.
Fly: I thought the point of having an appointment was to not have to wait.
Receptionist: I’m sorry Mr. Fly, but the doctor is a bit behind schedule today. She’ll be with you shortly, don’t worry. Just take a seat.
Fly: I don’t know if you know this, but I’m pretty famous. My time is important. I can’t afford to waste it sitting around. I made an appointment for 3:00 PM, and…
Fly takes a look down at his watch. His rolex watch. His diamond GMT-Master II watch, to be exact. If the lady standing in front of him wasn’t a blue blob of ugly stuff, she’d be creaming her pants right now.
Fly: …it’s 3:00 PM. I’m going in.
Super Fly turns to his right and finds the hallway leading past the receptionist’s little box (not a vagina joke) to Dr. Montgomery’s office. The round mound of reception gets flustered as she sees Fly disobeying her.
Receptionist: No! You can’t go back there!
Too late. Fly is nearly halfway down the hallway before the largess women can even get out of her seat to try to stop him. He reaches Dr. Montgomery’s door and opens it without inhibition. As the door swings open we see Dr. Montgomery’s patient zipping up the back of her short, short, short skit.
Fly: The fuck is this?
Both the doctor and her patient immediately look toward the door in horror. Dr. Montgomery clears her throat and responds, stuttering just a bit in guilt.
Dr. Montgomery: OH..uh..this isn’t what it looks like. He…he was just…uh…you don’t know how much of a pain those zippers are and…uh…it was stuck so…yeah.
The doctor spins around toward her patient.
Dr. Montgomery: Mr. Reynolds, thank you so much. I think that would conclude our meeting this week. I’ll see you at the same time next week.
Sheepishly, the patient nods his head and walks toward the door. He tries to push past Fly, but the Fly can’t allow that. There’s something he has to do. It wouldn’t be right if he didn’t. He grabs hold of the patient and pulls him close, whispering…
Fly: You should probably get yourself checked.
“Mr. Reynolds” pulls his head back and looks at Fly in confusion.
Fly: STD’s. It’s the silent killer!
The patient walks away hurriedly, leaving Fly standing in the doorway. He looks back to Dr. Montgomery.
Dr. Montgomery: That wasn’t very nice of you.
Fly: I probably just saved his life. You have serious problems. You need your own therapist for sexual addiction.
Dr. Montgomery: You want to give me some “therapy?”
Fly groans out loud. He considers running away momentarily, but relents. He closes the door behind him and walks all the way into the room. The doctor walks back to her desk and grabs her chair and notepad. She rolls it over to the couch set up in the middle of the room for her patients. She looks over at Fly and points to the couch.
Dr. Montgomery: I assume you’re here for your meeting, so you better take a seat.
Fly looks at the couch, then back to Dr. Montgomery.
Fly: You two didn’t fuck on that couch did you?
Dr. Montgomery: Of course not, we used my desk.
A quick scan over to her desk confirms the previous statement. The desktop is completely devoid of all items – even her computer seems to have been violently tossed onto the ground amongst a stack of papers, folders, and like items. Fly shakes his head, mostly in disgust, and takes a seat on the couch. Dr. Montgomery sits down and takes a scan of her notepad.
Dr. Montgomery: Alright, it looks like we ended last week with you feeling some regret about the things you’ve done to get where you’re at today in the wrestling industry. You mentioned that you feel a need to almost kill your opponents. Without that anger, you feel like you might lose your edge in the ring, and thus that’s been your biggest roadblock in making the changes you want to make in your life. Does that about sum it up?
Fly: I didn’t say “almost” kill. I want to kill all of them. It’s a curse. Kind of like you and the every-minute-of-the-day desire to stick hard objects in your cooch.
Dr. Montgomery: Oh come on you’re not one to talk.
Fly: …yeah, I guess you’re right.
Dr. Montgomery: Let’s get back on topic. I want to ask you one simple question; why do you feel you’re a better wrestler than everyone else?
Fly: What? Have you never seen me wrestle? It’s what I imagine it would be like to watch Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel – if you’re into that sort of thing.
Dr. Montgomery: Just answer the question.
Fly: I’m superiorly athletic. At this point in my career, despite no formal teaching I’ll have you know, I’m a skilled technician. I’m fearless and strong. I’m aggressive when I need to be, smart and calculated when I need to be. Lastly, and absolutely most importantly, I’m tough, not just physically but mentally. I can absorb more punishment than anyone else in this industry.
Dr. Montgomery: Would you call that last part a mindset?
Fly: Yes, I would. I’ve said that before. I don’t give up. I don’t quit. I’ve met very few wrestlers capable of taking me to the brink. Even those individuals who are capable, they don’t have my heart, drive, or passion. I’m the total package. In the squared circle…I have no flaws. I’m perfection personified.
Dr. Montgomery: So if that’s the case, why do you believe that a change in attitude will make you lose your edge?
Fly considers the comment for a brief second. He hates nearly everyone in the wrestling industry. True hatred. He’s been hesitant to change that mindset because he believes it’s one of the things that makes him so successful.
Fly: I guess it’s just an issue of comfort. I am the way I am. It’s been successful. Change brings an unknown element into the mix, and that’s not necessary.
Dr. Montgomery: If you truly believe you win matches because of superior talent, superior toughness, experience and smarts…acting like you don’t want to kill your opponents and not always being an asshole isn’t going to change anything. You have to learn the line. When you’re in the ring, all bets are off. When you’re out of the ring, act like a human being. Embrace your fellow wrestlers.
Fly: It’s just not that easy for me. I can’t fake this. I don’t like any of the wrestlers I work with. I don’t care for any one of them. Well, maybe a few, but that’s not my point. What benefit is it to me to act cordial to these people? What do I get out of it?
The doctor thinks over the question momentarily, formulating an answer.
Dr. Montgomery: Who better than to tell the stories of the “great Jonny Fly” than your fellow wrestlers? Warriors long ago were known to leave witnesses behind to tell tales of their exploits. It created fear and helped enhance that warrior’s legacy. The same concept could apply to you. Throw out the anger and hate. Stop trying to “kill” everyone. Use your colleagues to your benefit. The industry can be mutually beneficial.
Fly: I don’t see how that’s possible. If a wrestler benefits from me, I’m not doing what I’m supposed to do. That means I’ve lost, or someone else has surpassed me in some way.
Dr. Montgomery: That’s not true at all. Let me ask you this; if your match against Steve Orbit was a blowout, do you think the win would have still been a big deal?
Fly: Of course. It would just be another example of my continued dominance.
Dr. Montgomery: Are you sure about that? It wouldn’t just mean that Steve Orbit wasn’t worthy of being in a match of that magnitude? It wouldn’t just mean that he was weak and the match was a bad idea to begin with?
Fly: But…Orbit isn’t weak. He’s legit. Everyone knows that.
Dr. Montgomery: People only know what they see. What they saw were you gutting out a victory against an exceptional wrestler. They saw drive and passion that was unparalleled, and yet another chapter in the story of the “nearly unpinnable” Jonny Fly. People don’t care about blowouts, Jonny. They don’t make you look strong. They just make your opponent look weak. The Fly-Orbit match was an instant classic. The next time you embarrass someone in a match, let me know if that becomes an instant classic.
Fly: So what…I just need to manipulate everyone? Tell them I love them so that they perform better, which in turn makes me look good for continuing to beat them?
Dr. Montgomery: No, this is not manipulation.
Fly: Look, I know manipulation. I’m good at that. I’ve been doing it my whole life. What you’re telling me to do is manipulate people - using them to spread stories of my greatness.
Dr. Montgomery: You have to create a line of what is acceptable and what is not acceptable outside of the ring. You need to focus your negative energy into the ring. Outside of the ring, you need to understand that without the other wrestlers on the roster…there is no Jonny Fly. Your losses, the few that there may be, they make you human. That’s a good thing!
Fly: There’s no way that’s a good thing. I can understand some of what you’re saying. It makes sense. However, losing matches isn’t a good thing. Ever. That’s the problem with most of this industry, these guys settle for that garbage. If you’re not in this business to be the best then what the fuck are you doing?
Dr. Montgomery: Have you or have you not avenged every single loss you’ve had in the WCF.
Fly: I have.
Dr. Montgomery: Then explain to me how they were bad things? They showed the rest of the company that you’re not a robot. Losses happen. That gives them hope. For you, you’ve shown that even if they can manage to defeat you, you’ll have your revenge. You’ll win in the end. Those losses become part of your character, as does how you react to them. If your reaction is to ACTUALLY get a gun and go looking to shoot them, that just makes you a sore loser. A bitch, as you might say.
Fly: That…
Fly stops. His first reaction is to fight the doctor’s words. However, they’ve resonated with him. He begins to understand what she’s saying.
Fly: …actually makes some sense.
Dr. Montgomery: There’s no reason to have this “me against the world” mentality. The chip on your shoulder should have left a long time ago. You have it all. Your career will go down as one of the greatest ever, no matter what happens from this point on. It’s time to start enjoying that a little more. It’s time to have fun with this. You’re rich, famous, and good at what you do. You shouldn’t have a care in the world.
As the doctor talks, Fly nods along. As she finishes he smiles as if he’s seen the wisdom in her words. He adjusts in his seat and leans forward. He speaks softly.
Fly: I’ve never been in an environment that isn’t competitive. It’s literally all that I know. I grew up defending myself on the streets, scrounging for food, trying to protect my few friends. Then wrestling came calling and let’s face it, life sucks for a young wrestler. At every turn you’re trying to prove yourself. The business world was no different, avoiding trouble with cops and the FBI…
Fly’s words trail off. He looks down at the floor and slowly sits back in his chair. He laughs a bit, reflecting on all that he’s gone through during his lifetime.
Fly: People think I have it so good because I’m a GOD on the canvas. Nothing has come easy. I’ve fought for it all, and I just don’t know how to turn that off all of a sudden.
Dr. Montgomery: Consider it another fight. A fight within. Expect better of yourself, and challenge yourself to get where you want to be.
Fly: I think you’re right. I think I can start doing that. When I’m in the ring, be me. When I’m not, stop carrying around phantom grudges. Nobody has done anything to me. We’re all just doing our job, trying to make a living while having some fun.
Dr. Montgomery beams proudly. She slaps her hand over her knee.
Dr. Montgomery: I think you’re finally getting it. The key now is to retrain yourself. Go out of your way to do nice things for people, say nice and encouraging things to people, that sort of stuff.
Fly goes into full frowny-face mode.
Fly: I don’t think I’m…quite…ready to dive into this THAT much. I’m not going to play world’s cheerleader, doc.
Dr. Montgomery: You don’t have to dive in with both feet right off the bat. Start slow. Have you not done any good deeds this week?
Fly: Well, I filled out some job applications on behalf of Seifer Black Armstrong. Unfortunately, the three Hot Topics in the Toronto area aren’t hiring at this point in time. Something about not having a lot of goth kids in Canada, so business is down. Also, I met a couple of guys who seemed pretty cool so I set them up with Chelsea Black Armstrong’s home address. She’s going to be in the market for a new guy soon enough, so I figured I’d try to play matchmaker.
Dr. Montgomery: Uh…
Fly cuts off the doctor. He holds up his hands innocently.
Fly: Now, I admit, that last one comes with some trade off. I did a bad think and broke into the WCF employment database to get her address but…it’s not my fault they haven’t changed the password on the system since I was owner. They made it too easy for me, so in a way…I can’t be held responsible.
Dr. Montgomery: What I was going to ask is what makes you think Chelsea is looking for a new man?
Fly: Common sense. Her husband can’t wrestle, can’t provide for her, he’s ugly and dumb as hell. It’s just a matter of time until that marriage ends in the shitter.
Dr. Montgomery: You consider those to be good deeds?
Fly: …are they not?
A smile curls onto the doctor’s lips. She’s always been a bit infatuated by the other side of Jonny Fly, the carefree and humorous side.
Dr. Montgomery: Let’s talk more about Chelsea since you’re facing her this week.
Fly: I suppose this match is vengeance for her and her family. It’s the age old tale, you have the damsel in distress, Seifer, and then the man, Chelsea, who comes to her rescue and saves the day.
Dr. Montgomery scowls and gives Fly a stern look.
Dr. Montgomery: No, no. Be serious.
Fly: I am. Chelsea has the balls in that family. That’s a true fact.
Dr. Montgomery: So you consider her a good wrestler?
Fly: No, she’s fuckin’ terrible.
Another stern look from the doctor follows. Fly notices and attempts to soften his statement.
Fly: Right. I mean, she’s not terrible. I don’t mean that. She’s alright. She’s had more success at this stage in her WCF career than most, certainly more than the crop of wrestlers she came in with. I just don’t think she’s at my level. Actually, I’m sure of it.
Dr. Montgomery: What exactly leads you to believe that?
Fly: I’ve been doing this a long time. I know wrestling, I know wrestlers. I’ve watched Chelsea and I know exactly what I’m in store for. I’m sure she’ll step her game up this week, but it’s not going to matter. I’m always prepared for that. I know I have a target on my back every week. Everyone wants to beat me. Yet, I still prevail…every. single. time.
Dr. Montgomery: So you know because…you know? That doesn’t seem like a valid answer.
Fly: I’ve watched her wrestle. She’s average. I’m not average. This match is going to be an eye-opening experience for her. I sense she has some confidence because of last week, and of course she feels like she has to do this for her family, but nobody cares about last week. Six man clusterfuck matches don’t make you better than Jonny Fly.
Dr. Montgomery suddenly stands up and immediately walks over to her desk. She touches a button on her phone and pages the receptionist.
Dr. Montgomery: Martha, please cancel the rest of my appointments for the day.
Montgomery hangs up the phone and looks back at Fly.
Fly: What are you doing?
Dr. Montgomery: You are going to take me out.
Fly’s eyes grow wide. He stands up and walks toward Dr. Montgomery. Pointing at her, he replies…
Fly: No. Hell no. FUCK NO.
Dr. Montgomery walks forward and grabs hold of Fly’s shirt. She curls up next to his chest.
Dr. Montgomery: Oh come on, it’s for a good reason. I’m won’t try…too much. I’m going to dress up as Chelsea Black Robison and teach you how to respect a woman…I mean, colleague. Consider it part of your reprogramming.
Fly goes in slanty eye mode.
Fly: What the hell are you trying to do?
Dr. Montgomery: It’s a roleplay. One between you and Chelsea Black Armstrong.
Fly: You’re trying to take me out on a date.
Dr. Montgomery: Nope. Strictly professional.
Fly cocks his head slightly to the side and rolls his eyes.
Dr. Montgomery: Pick me up in two hours? A girl has to get dolled up, you know.
Fly’s face is empty of expression. He just stares at Dr. Montgomery with his mouth slightly agape. Without a word, he turns and slowly walks away. Our scene comes to a close.
The next scene begins at Union Square Café on East 16th Street in New York City, New York. Despite Corey Black insistence that there aren’t nice places to take a woman in New York City, here we are. We enter through the glass door on the street and immediately turn left and enter the dining area of the Café. Sitting in the back left corner of the room at a private table is Jonny Fly and Dr. Stella Montgomery. Fly and Dr. Montgomery already have wine glasses on their table and are separated only by a lit candle in the middle of the table.
Our camera approaches the two of them as they sit in their seats looking through the menu. Fly is wearing his traditional attire, full suit, dress shoes, the works. The dude looks good. On the other hand, Dr. Montgomery is wearing a black leather jacket, black corset, black shorts, black fishnets, and black boots. She’s even streaked her hair red for the occasion. She fits in with the rest of the crowd like Shannan Lerch fits into an abstinence education program. The scene’s dialogue begins.
Fly: The seared tuna is good. I’ve had it before.
Dr. Montgomery: That’s so sweet of you, Jonny. It’s really nice of you to show a girl around the big city like this. Where I grew up, in the valley, we didn’t have these types of fancy restaurants.
Fly: I thought you were from Toronto? That’s a pretty big city. A lot of culture there, I’m fairly certain they have fancy restaurants.
Dr. Montgomery gives Fly an evil look. Clearly she hasn’t done the proper research on the character she is playing. Fly ignores her angry stares and looks back at his menu.
Dr. Montgomery: So, seared tuna you say? Why should I trust you? You’re always so mean to me.
Fly: That’s because you’re a dumbass.
Another evil look appears on the doctor’s face. Fly isn’t taking this ‘session’ serious and it’s making the crazy therapist dressed up like Chelsea Black Armstrong one unhappy hoe. Being the good sport that he is, Fly decides to start playing along.
Fly: I mean, you look very pretty in your gothic girl outfit this evening. You fit in well at this type of restaurant. Don’t mind all of the rest of the women in exquisite dresses; your Xena Warrior Princess outfit is much better.
Yes, that’s his version of playing along.
Dr. Montgomery: Is that sarcasm?
Fly: Uh…nope. I’m never sarcastic. I’m just really enjoying the chance to get to know one of my fellow wrestlers. I think very highly of you, Chelsea. You might be the new Sarah Twilight. If you play your cards right I might write you a love letter.
Dr. Montgomery: Say my name again.
Fly: Uh…Chelsea...I guess?
The doctor seems to be getting some pleasure out of Fly saying her make-believe name.
Dr. Montgomery: Well, I figured that even though we are competitors this week, we don’t need to be at one another’s throats. We’re both professionals and we can act like it.
Fly: Right. So tell me a little about yourself, uh…Chelsea.
Dr. Montgomery: Well, currently I’m very depressed…
Fly: Because you’re facing me this week?
Dr. Montgomery: NO. I’m sad because it’s been a struggle here in WCF. Sometimes I feel like I should just give up.
Fly eyes lower. He can almost sense the hurt in the doctor’s words, as Chelsea.
Fly: Let me tell you something, from a man who has seen and done it all. If you ever let this industry, or the people within it, get you down…then you’ll never get where you want to go. There is NEVER struggle. There is only the next match, the next win.
Dr. Montgomery: I just get so angry. I can’t help it.
Fly: Anger is natural. You’re talking to me, the angriest motherfucker out there. You harness that anger, and you transfer every ounce of it back into the ring. I’ve won more matches than I care to share just because I hated my opponent so much that I REFUSED to let them pin me. Anger is good, depression is not. Keep your head up – you have a long career in front of you and things aren’t going to come easily.
Dr. Montgomery: I don’t know why you’re giving me advice. You’re heartless. You’re almost…evil. You think this is just a week off for you.
Fly: Do you take offense to that? Do you think I should approach this differently? Look Chelsea, my approach is infallible. It’s above questioning. The way I do things works. Instead of crying about it, you should be taking notes. What are you expecting from me? Am I supposed to cave to the whims of one Chelsea Black Armstrong? Should I just take a dive in this match, let you win, and become a part of the most exclusive club in professional wrestling – those who have managed to defeat Jonny Fly?
Dr. Montgomery: I didn’t say that, but I’m a decorated wrestler. I know my way around the ring. Nobody walks all over me.
Fly: You might be right. I don’t know yet. However, I do know that you haven’t faced someone like me before. All of your friends, your Stacy and Matt Robinson’s, your husband Seifer, they’re not comparable to me. I am the end all be all in this industry. I’m not trying to be arrogant. It’s a fact, one that I’ve spent a decade crafting. Will I walk all over you? Maybe not. I might even respect you when it’s all over and done with…but I’m still going to win.
At this point the waiter approaches the table. Wearing dress pants, a white long-sleeve dress shirt with a black vest over top, and a bow tie, the waiters look to Fly.
Waiter: Sir…
He then looks toward Dr. Montgomery.
Waiter: Ma’am, are you ready to order?
Dr. Montgomery puts her menu down on the table and answers the question.
Dr. Montgomery: Yes, I’ll have the seared tuna with the side of risotto.
The waiter writes down the order on a pad.
Waiter: Excellent choice, madam.
He then turns his attention to Fly who has also set down his menu.
Waiter: For you, sir?
Fly: I’ll have the Prime New York Strip Steak with the mashed potatoes.
Waiter: Ah, another outstanding choice. Very well. I’ll go put your order in right now.
The waiter grabs the menus off the table and walks away in the direction of the kitchen. Fly grabs hold of his wine glass and takes a drink. As he sets the glass back on the table he looks toward Dr. Montgomery/Chelsea.
Fly: What does this match mean to you?
Dr. Montgomery: I don’t like being underestimated. I don’t DESERVE to be underestimated. This match is going to redemption for my family, and it’s also going to serve notice to the rest of the company that I am someone they should fear.
Fly: I don’t fear you. I’ll never fear you.
Dr. Montgomery: Well, you should.
Fly shakes his head “no.”
Fly: Believe it or not, there are a lot of wrestlers who can get ‘up’ for one match at a time. If you want to be feared, you have to sustain success. Nobody cared who I was here even after I went 10-0 in my first ten matches here. Now, as a four-time World Champion, Ultimate Showdown winner, War winner, and one of the few who’ve had the honor of being in the Main Event of One…now I’m feared. Stop worrying about everyone else, Chelsea. Stop worrying about what people think, what they do, all that nonsense. Worry about you. I’ll ask this question again now, what does this match mean to YOU? This time, don’t give me that canned shit about Seifer and the rest of the roster.
Dr. Montgomery sits back in her seat. She’s not Chelsea Black Armstrong, so she doesn’t have a clue on how to answer the question. Instead, she changes the subject.
Dr. Montgomery: I have an idea.
Fly: Yeah? What’s that.
Dr. Montgomery: We have desert at my house.
Fly: Chelsea…are you trying to take advantage of me? What would you husband think of this development?
Fly grabs hold of his wine glass, and tips it toward his therapist.
Fly: Also, I don’t think I’ve had quite enough of this to sleep with a depressed gothic Canadian.
Dr. Montgomery: What about a horny therapist?
…and with that, Jonny Fly drank the rest of his wine. He reaches across the table and takes Dr. Montgomery’s glass and downs that as well.
Fly: I knew this was a set-up.
Dr. Montgomery: Don’t I look hot dressed like this?
Fly: Uh…no. The only hot Canadian in leather is Pamela Anderson in Barb Wire.
Dr. Montgomery: I’m not Canadian!
Fly: Oh, right. We’re not playing pretend anymore. My point is still valid.
Dr. Montgomery: Oh come on, you were doing well in talking to Chelsea. You passed my test. You weren’t too much of a douchebag; you were talking to her like a colleague. You even tried to help her sort her way through the struggles she’s dealing with. It was good. Now the two of us can enjoy ourselves.
Fly: I passed?
Dr. Montgomery: What can I say? You’re the teacher’s favorite.
Fly smiles and immediately stands up. He tosses his napkin onto the table and pulls out his wallet. He sets two $100 bills on the table.
Fly: It looks like we’re done here then. I’ll see you next week, doc. Enjoy your dinner.
…and then, boom, like a phantom Jonny Fly disappears, narrowly escaping the sexual wrath of his therapist – at least for this week. The scene comes to a close.
The next scene begins at Jonny Fly’s mansion in New York City. The man himself is lying on the sofa in his living room and watching tape of Chelsea Black Armstrong talking to Hank Brown on WCF television. Suddenly, Fly sits up and turns off the television. He gets up from the couch and walks toward out of his living room and into the kitchen. To the right against the wall is an elevator. Fly pushes the button and the elevator doors open in front of him. He steps inside and pushes for the door to close. The elevator brings to action and takes Fly one level below his house to the underground arena that serves as his basement.
The elevator opens onto the arena’s concourse. Fly steps out and walks forward down a flight of stairs to ringside. He slides into the ring and stands up on his feet. He takes a second to look around at the empty arena, and smiles. He steps forward and leans on the ropes, making eye contact with the camera.
Chelsea Black Armstrong…wherever you are at…listen to me.
I’m going to share with you some advice. I honestly don’t care if you heed the following words. That’s a decision you have to make on your own. But…
Stop this charade. Just_fucking_stop.
I want you to forget about me for a second, and whatever our match would mean to you and Seifer. I want you to look out at the rest of the roster. In your mind, take a snapshot at every one of your fellow wrestlers. Look at where those individuals are at. Then look back at me. Look where I am at. Look at my resume, track record. LISTEN to people when they talk about me. Hell, look around this place.
Fly holds out his hands as he looks around the arena again.
Who do you want to be like? You’re somewhat new. You’re still choosing what path you want to take in this company. Which way do you want to go? Do you want to be stuck in midcard purgatory for the rest of your days, or do you want something more for yourself? If this answer isn’t that you want to be like me, then you’re not doing it right. I’m not telling you to use my methods or act like me. I’m simply stating; I am the standard. There’s no question about it.
I know you want to believe that this match is meaningful because of what I did to Seifer…but it’s not. Truthfully, I didn’t do anything to Seifer. I did my job. I won a match that he personally requested. I GAVE him the honor of that match. I did him a favor. At the end of the day, it was Sarah Twilight who fired him. Yet…I’m the bad guy.
That’s the charade.
I’m not the bad guy, Chelsea. I’m THE guy. That’s what you need to know. This “family vengeance” angle is dumb, Chelsea. It’s fuckin’ stupid. Your husband wanted to test his mettle against the best. I obliged him. He lost. Yeah, I know you have some issues with how the match was decided. You feel that in a no disqualification match my use of the ropes to secure victory was underhanded. That’s fuckin’ stupid as well. Congratulations, you’re now two for two. The ropes are allowed in a no disqualification match. You do know wrestling rules, right?
Fly pauses and holds up his hand.
Sorry about that. I’m getting carried away. I’m trying not be condescending here, but I’m still working on that. I should have you know, I’m not even the guy who made all the matches no disqualification. You and Seifer call me crafty. I AM crafty. I am smart. I’ve been doing this a long time. I know how to win matches. Your husband should have known as much when he decided to call me out. Look around this place, Chelsea. This is my life. I’m a wrestling junkie. A savant, if you would. You call it cheating, but that’s selling me short. I don’t appreciate that, especially for someone who is so vocal about others doing the same thing to her.
Fly shakes his head in mock disgust. He lifts himself off the ropes and begins pacing around the ring. The camera stays with him as he walks.
I did not cheat to beat Seifer. I don’t need to cheat to beat Seifer. I don’t need to cheat to beat you. I didn’t become the wrestler I am today by cheating. I didn’t become the wrestler that I am today by allowing someone to walk into the company I work for, run his mouth, demand matches against me while acting like he’s something special, guaranteeing victory…and then allow him to walk all over me. Are you kidding me? Who would allow that garbage? I’d be the laughing stock of this fuckin’ company. If that’s what I am guilty of, then fine. So be it. Let’s not be childish though, your boy Seifer shares every bit of the blame. You both should stop living in a fuckin’ bubble and realize that.
Fly pauses after that last line, and stops pacing. He turns to face the camera once again.
That brings me to you and I, Chelsea. This match is personal for you. You’ve all but said that. For me, this is nothing. I hope you understand that. I’m being thrown into the ring with another pissed off Black Armstrong who wants nothing more than to beat me. There’s nothing I have to gain here. This match is all about you, one-hundred percent. What I’m telling you is that you need to understand exactly what you have to gain here, and it’s not avenging your poor husband. It’s really not. This match can put you on the cusp of superstardom. The type of level Seifer will never achieve. You’re not going out there to beat me, you’re going out there to choose what path you’re going to take. The path of Jonny Fly, or the path of the countless Flyjobbers.
Fly smiles at the mass dig on the roster.
While we’re talking about my path, let’s talk about the World Title for a moment. You want to beat me, but you “don’t care” about the World Title. I mean come on; everyone says that who isn’t the World Champion, Chelsea. That line is played out. Cut it out of your vocabulary. You would gladly take the World Title from me at first opportunity. I know that and so does the rest of the world. The fact is that I’m the World Champion, and I am so for good reason. I’m the first World Champion this company can be proud of in a long time.
I’ll include myself in that statement. I’ve been the World Champion three times before. My reigns weren’t the same then. Your problems with me are strictly because I act like the World Champion. I wouldn’t let Seifer walk all over me, I don’t acknowledge the younger group of wrestlers as threats to me, and I’ve said that I’m better than you. What the hell do you expect? Stop being so fuckin’ sensitive. What I do at the top of this company’s hierarchy is good for it. I push people to their limits. I make everyone better. Just look at yourself…have you ever been more amped up for a match since you joined this company?
Exactly.
That’s my influence. That’s why it’s idiotic to act like you don’t want the World Title. You’re not better than my title, so quit acting like it. It’s the symbol of the ultimate accomplishment in this industry. If you don’t want that, then quit. Get the fuck out of here. A mindset like that does not beat Jonny Fly, consider that a warning.
Fly begins to pace around the ring once again.
You need to refocus yourself, Chelsea. You’re not focused on the things that are important in this industry. You’re not even focused on the person who truly wronged your family. You’re all over the place right now. I’m just trying to help put it in perspective for you. The only reason you would have to blame me for your family’s struggles is because you WANT me to be at fault. You want heat with me. Like Seifer before you, you want your shot at the measuring stick. You want to test your mettle and see if you have what it takes to become a certified Main Event wrestler in this company.
Once again - charade.
I’m the king of misdirection, Chelsea. I saw this from a mile away. If that’s truly what’s going on here, good. You shouldn’t let your husband’s ignorance and Sarah Twilight’s wrath get in the way of you making a career for yourself. Someone has to be the bread winner in your family, right? It’s noble. However, this is the point where I have to tell you exactly what’s going to happen on Sunday. Despite this match meaning nothing to me, I’m going to give you the match you deserve. Around these parts, we call it “the full Jonny Fly experience.” It’s basically a button I push and then go into “always win” mode.
Fly stops and laughs. He shakes his head.
No, no…I can’t lie. Obviously that’s not true. It just means that I’m not going to loaf through this match. I’ll even give you more than I gave Seifer, after all, I should – you’re better than him. If you win, then I hope the chip on your shoulder disappears. It’s forced, Chelsea. There’s no legitimate reason for it. It’s all an act. You’re in this business because you’re a competitor. Well…I am THE competition. Nobody else around here is going to give you a better show. When it’s all said and done, win or lose, you should be proud of yourself. I mean that. It means that you stood toe-to-toe with Jonny Fly, the world’s greatest wrestler.
…and lost.
There’s no shame in that, and it’s nothing personal. Good luck…and give my best to Seifer.
Fly winks at the camera and slides back out of the ring. He begins ascending the stairs back to the elevator as the scene slowly fades to black.
