There Are No Human Rights in Mexico
May 8, 2016 9:42:23 GMT -5
Mikey eXtreme, Tiffany White, and 1 more like this
Post by The Killenial (Caleb Ronan) on May 8, 2016 9:42:23 GMT -5
Caleb Ronan: No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
Caleb Ronan is having a meltdown.
Caleb Ronan: No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
It’s a few hours after Slam and Caleb is frantically running through Mexico City, looking for a cell phone repair shop after Kaz Mazy crushed his smartphone. Frank Brown is in tow.
Caleb Ronan: No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
He finds some kind of store that has cell phones in it and tries his luck.
Caleb Ronan: ¡Señor! ¡Señor! Please, fix my smartphone!
The clerk behind the counter stares at him confused.
Caleb Ronan: Um, um, oh God. How do I say it in Spanish?! Come on, Caleb, think! You took one semester of Spanish! Um, um, ¡señor, por favor arreglas mi, um...smartphone!
Caleb dumps the contents of his broken phone on the counter.
Clerk: Señor, yo no soluciona los smartphones. Yo sólo los vendo.
Caleb Ronan: (to Frank) What is he saying?!
Frank Brown: I don’t know, Caleb!
Caleb Ronan: (to the clerk) ¡Arreglas mi smartphone!
Clerk: No puedo, no puedo.
The clerk shakes his head.
Caleb Ronan: You can’t?!
He paces around the room, holding his head. Suddenly he growls, lifts up his hands, and smashes the glass counter where the broken phone sits.
Clerk: ¡El diablo!
The clerk runs out into the street.
Clerk: ¡Policía! ¡Policía!
Frank Brown: Caleb, we better get out of here.
Frank and Caleb run out of the store and find a bar to hide out in.
Frank: Let’s get you a drink. You need one.
Caleb looks around as he walks up to the bar. He sees a lot of familiar faces from the locker room; Grayson Pierce, Mikey eXtreme, Bonnie Blue, Logan (celebrating his World Title win), and Cathy Fitch. Seth is at the back of the bar taking shots of tequila.
Caleb Ronan: Oh, God, we couldn’t have picked a worse bar, Frank.
Frank Brown: It’s okay, Caleb. Let’s just have a beer and go back to the hotel.
They take a seat. Caleb looks at what’s on tap but doesn’t recognize any of the beers.
Caleb Ronan: (to the bartender) Do you have any Blue Point Toasted Lager?
The bartender looks at Caleb peculiarly.
Caleb Ronan: No? How about Brooklyn Lager?
Still a strange look.
Caleb Ronan: Vanilla Porter? Sierra Nevada Pale Ale? 21st Amendment Bitter American?
The bartender grabs a glass, picks a tap, pours the beer, and hands the glass to Caleb.
Bartender: Tecate.
The bartender walks away?
Caleb Ronan: I can’t believe they don’t have craft beer in this place.
Frank Brown: I know. It’s almost like we’re in a third world country. Well, whatever, let’s just drink what we’ve got.
They toast their glasses.
Frank Brown: Did you see who you’re facing next week?
Caleb Ronan: Yeah, Kyle Kemp and John Gable. Another tag match after tonight’s went so splendidly.
Frank Brown: Caleb, you did the best you could. You can’t control how your partners do.
Caleb Ronan: Why do I even need to be in these tag matches anyway? I’ve paid my dues here. I’ve been around two months now. I should be getting a shot at the World Title.
Frank Brown: You’re exactly right, Caleb. But hey, your opponents aren’t just some no names in the WCF. Kyle Kemp and John Gable are regarded as two of the best in the whole promotion.
Caleb Ronan: I suppose you’re right, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re two white privileged fucking males. I mean, did you hear Kemp’s comments tonight?
Frank Brown: I did. Reprehensible.
Caleb Ronan: First he runs down the people of Mexico City, saying they’re trash. A proud people such as the Mexicanos are not trash. Then he tells them that they shouldn’t waste their time trying to come into America because the American Dream is unattainable for anyone but him. You know what’s trash? Kyle Kemp’s baseball career. Did you even know he had a baseball career?
Frank Brown: That is so amazing that you knew that.
Caleb Ronan: Yeah, he was in the minor leagues. Then he was caught betting on games and was banned for life. Great career to speak of, right? The man has to hide the fact that he ruined his baseball career by running down other people that he think are inferior to his talent. He didn’t achieve his American Dream, so he has to make it seem as if no one can achieve the American Dream. He projects so much.
Frank Brown: He said that all the partying he does shows that he has achieved the American Dream.
Caleb Ronan: Oh, sure, that’s what the American Dream is: all the cisgender behavior that “all men” are supposed to exhibit; all that misogynistic bullshit that society wants men to do in order to keep the precious social structure that the corporations have built for us alive. Yeah, that’s the American Dream. I guess you have to believe that lie if you fail in life.
If Kyle Kemp were really living the American Dream, he wouldn’t have to put up the huge façade that he puts up every day of his life. The American Dream is being happy about the life that you have in America, not hating yourself for it. Instead of embracing his life in America and doing the best that he can with the best that he has, he embraces alcohol and promiscuous sex, thinking that those two things are the pinnacle of being an American. They’re not.
He’s only hurting himself, really. If he hadn’t been greedy, he wouldn’t have gotten himself banned from baseball. If he hadn’t been out partying all day and night, he would have won the Trilogy Tournament and been the one facing Logan for the World Title at Asesinato de Mayo. The man is in a self-destructive cycle. He’s unhappy, so he parties. He parties, so he doesn’t succeed. He doesn’t succeed, so he’s unhappy; and it just goes around and around and around and around.
Caleb moves his finger around in a big circle as he says “around and around.”
Caleb Ronan: Unfortunately, John Gable’s life has paralleled Kyle’s so much that now he’s living the same life.
Frank Brown: Wasn’t he, like, a movie star or something?
Caleb Ronan: Yeah, “something” is more like it. He never actually made it big in the movie industry, so he turned to wrestling to use it as a catapult to success in cinema. Suffice it to say, he still hasn’t been able to make it.
Frank Brown: A lot of people say he’s the best wrestler never to win the WCF World Championship.
Caleb Ronan: I’ve heard the same thing, and look what he does to cope with it. He joins up with #Beachkrew and mimics the worst behavior that any human can exhibit. Just like Kyle Kemp, he hides his disappointment and self-loathing by buying into the chauvinistic ideology that has led to millions of campus rapes all across the country.
Frank Brown: You care so much about humanity, Caleb.
Caleb Ronan: Well someone has to, because Gable certainly isn’t going to do it. You know what I’ve heard? He’s trying to go around, modernizing people that he sees as living outside of modern culture? Who is he to say what modern culture even is, let alone try to convert people to abandon the lives that they’ve created for themselves? He hasn’t been able to live the life that he’s wanted to live, so he tries to drag people down; that way they can’t live the life that they want to live. John Gable should worry about himself and get his life in order.
Frank Brown: Have you heard about how he’s been trying to manipulate the people he’s trying to change? He’s giving them drugs.
Caleb Ronan: You’re kidding me? Really? You’d think an actor would know how to use his words to persuade people. I guess he’s not that great after all. No wonder he hasn’t made it in Hollywood.
Frank Brown: I don’t see how he’s made it in wrestling. He hates it.
Caleb Ronan: Why would you willingly do something that you hate. John Gable reminds me of a man who marries a woman but is secretly gay. He goes through life torturing himself because all he wants to do is be who he really is but he just can’t, so he hates himself his entire life and eventually self-destructs. John Gable is going to self-destruct. One of these days, he’s going to realize that all the things he’s done to try to make himself happy, whether it was joining #Beachkrew, becoming a wrestler, or feeding drugs to people in order to warp their brains has gotten him nowhere, and by that point he’s going to have to be on suicide watch. If I had to be him, I’d be on suicide watch already.
I feel bad for both Kemp and Gable, really. They remind me of the Poondock Saints. They have some deficiency in life, so they make up for it by causing debauchery and putting other people down. For the Poondock Saints, their deficiency is that they’re all mentally handicapped. For Kemp and Gable, their deficiency is that they can’t accept who they are and can’t accept their failures. It takes really insecure men to call other people losers when they themselves are the real losers.
Frank Brown: Yeah. I mean, look at you. You live at home with your parents and you haven’t achieved your dream job of becoming a great writer, but you’re not a loser.
Caleb Ronan stares at Frank.
Caleb Ronan: We’re not talking about me, Frank.
Frank Brown: Oh. Sorry. Hey, did you catch Kemp saying that now he wants the U.S. Title?
Caleb Ronan: Yeah, isn’t that something. He spends his promo time running down everyone’s view of the American Dream and saying that he’s better than everybody, including his own countrymen...I’m sorry, countrypeople, and then says he wants to be their champion. I can’t think of anyone who deserves that title less than him. That would be like Donald Trump winning the presidency.
Frank Brown: I know, that’ll never happen!
Caleb Ronan: I know, can you imagine?!
They both have a good laugh. Caleb wipes his eyes.
Caleb Ronan: I needed that. But yeah, America has been a land of the privileged white males for too long, and having Kyle Kemp as the United States Champion will only serve to propagate that injustice even longer.
Frank Brown: Maybe you should be the United States Champion.
Caleb looks at Frank as if a light bulb has gone off in his head.
Caleb Ronan: I would be a great United States Champion! I could use the title as a platform to spread the message of social justice throughout the entire country!
Frank Brown: There you go, Caleb!
Caleb Ronan: Imagine an America where the Equal Rights Amendment finally gets passed, where black lives really do matter, where transgender bathrooms are mandated in every state, where college debts are forgiven for everyone, where ideas of hatred are pushed out of the body politic, where America becomes one big safe space, where…
Mikey eXtreme: (from a few tables away) Hey, shut the fuck up with that hippie, liberal bullshit!
Caleb Ronan: That’s a trigger, Mikey.
Mikey eXtreme: Like I give a fuck! I got your trigger right here!
Mikey points at his crotch. Caleb begins to feel himself shake.
Just sit down, Caleb. You’ve already had a stressful night. Don’t let his insensitivity get to you.
Caleb sits back down in his chair.
Frank Brown: So what are you going to do about your smartphone?
Caleb Ronan: I don’t know. I think I’m going to have to buy a new one. Which means I’ll have to get a…
He sighs.
Caleb Ronan: ...second job.
Frank Brown: Oh, my god, no. A second job? Really?
Caleb Ronan: Yeah. I really have no choice.
Frank Brown: Well, there is something you could try.
Caleb Ronan: What’s that?
Frank Brown: You could ask Seth for more money.
Caleb shudders a little bit.
Caleb Ronan: Oh, I don’t know about that.
Frank Brown: Why not?
Caleb Ronan: Remember when I asked about the participation award?
Frank Brown: Yeah, but he had just lost a match and was in a lot of pain. Now he’s drunk. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood.
Caleb looks over to the back of the bar at Seth.
Seth Lerch: Woooooo! Who wants to eat jalapeños off of my nips?!
Caleb shrugs his shoulders.
Caleb Ronan: Yeah, I guess you’re right.
Caleb gets off his seat. Frank pats him on the back.
Frank Brown: Go get em’, tiger!
Caleb slowly walks towards Seth’s table.
Don’t be scared. He’ll say “yes,” right? Come on, he’s not that bad. He can be sympathetic when he wants to be, right? I hope.
Caleb finally makes it to Seth’s table. Seth is downing a bottle of Patrón
Caleb Ronan: Um, S-S-Seth?
Seth pauses and shifts his eyes towards Caleb. He puts the bottle down.
Seth Lerch: Why do you always seem to interrupt me when I don’t want to be interrupted?
Caleb Ronan: I’m sorry, I just have a quick question for you.
Caleb waits for a response from Seth.
Seth Lerch: Well? What the fuck do you want?
Caleb Ronan: I was hoping to get a raise.
Seth stares at Caleb.
Seth Lerch: A what?
Caleb Ronan: Um, a raise.
Seth Lerch: Like, more money?
Caleb Ronan: Yeah.
Seth Lerch: Kid, I’d rather give you a participation award than pay you more.
Caleb looks back at Frank with a hopeless face. Frank gives Caleb a thumbs up. Caleb looks back at Seth.
Caleb Ronan: Seth, I really could use the money.
Seth Lerch: And I could really use a good blow job. We all have needs that go unfulfilled.
Caleb Ronan: So we can’t even negotiate?
Seth Lerch: I don’t negotiate with little shits like you. You know how long I’ve been doing this, kid? Longer than you’ve known how to jerk off. When you’re worth my time, I’ll come to you and tell you when I want to give you a raise.
Caleb Ronan: And when will I be worth your time?
Seth Lerch: When you actually accomplish something.
Caleb Ronan: But I’ve been trying really hard.
Seth gets up out of his chair and begins circling Caleb.
Seth Lerch: Everyone, could I have your attention, please. I just want everyone to know that Caleb Ronan believes he deserves a raise, even though he’s only won TWO matches during his first two months. But it’s okay, because he’s been trying “really hard.” Let’s give him a round of applause, shall we?!
Seth starts to clap until he’s right up in Caleb’s face. Caleb’s eye starts to twitch.
Caleb Ronan: Don’t do that, Seth. That’s a trigger.
Seth Lerch: What the fuck is a trigger?
Caleb Ronan: It’s anything that sets off anxiety and can be deemed offensive.
Seth Lerch: So me clapping is a trigger? Should I snap my fingers instead?
Caleb Ronan: Yes, that would be preferable, but it’s not just the clapping. It’s your sarcasm, too.
Seth Lerch: Oh, wittle baby Caweb doesn’t wike dat Seth is being sawcastic?
Caleb Ronan feels the muscles in his arm contracting.
Caleb Ronan: Seth, I’m asking you as nice as I can to just stop. Don’t trigger me.
Seth Lerch: Why? What are you gonna do? Report me to the non-existent human resources department? You gonna sic your boyfriend Frank on me? You’re certainly not going to fight me because you suck at that, as evidenced by your last three matches.
Caleb’s pecs and abs start to tighten.
Seth Lerch: You suck, kid. You’ve always sucked and you will continue to suck until you finally do all of us a favor and quit the WCF. But until then, I will never, ever give you a raise.
I can’t let this happen to me. I can’t lose control.
Caleb starts pacing around the bar frantically.
Caleb Ronan: Where’s the safe space in this bar? Where’s the safe space?
Caleb approaches the bartender and grabs him by the collar. His voice changes into the beast voice.
Caleb Ronan: ¿Dónde está el “safe space?”
The bartender drops a glass and runs into the kitchen. Caleb begins holding his head, as if to try to keep his rage inside. Bonnie Blue approaches him.
Bonnie Blue: Caleb, are you okay, bud?
Caleb Ronan: I need a safe space!
Bonnie Blue: Okay, but I don’t think they have any of those here.
Caleb screams, lifts up a chair, and smashes it. Bonnie runs away.
Frank Brown: Caleb, let’s get out of here.
Caleb Ronan: No, not until I get an apology from Seth for triggering me!
Seth Lerch: What? An apology? Fuck off!
Caleb picks up another chair. The other wrestlers surround him.
Grayson Pierce: Just calm down, boss. It’ll be alright.
Caleb Ronan: No, it won’t! I can’t win a match, my smartphone is broken, Seth won’t give me a raise, and he’s triggering me!
Seth Lerch: Would someone tackle this douchebag?
Grayson Pierce: Seth, don’t be a fucking asshole. It’s not helping the situation. Caleb, just put the chair down. I’m buying the next round. Just put the chair down and we’ll talk this out, okay?
Caleb looks around.
Perhaps these people are better than I thought. Maybe there are some good people in the WCF.
Caleb calms down and places the chair back on the ground. The bartender, who had been peeking out from the kitchen, comes back out.
Grayson Pierce: Good. Bartender, más cervezas, por favor.
Grayson walks over to Caleb and pats him on the back.
Grayson Pierce: I get stressed out sometimes, too. It’ll all be good.
They take a seat at the bar.
Caleb Ronan: Thanks. Sometimes I ju---
A glass bottle smashes over the back of Caleb’s head. Caleb immediately falls to the floor unconscious.
Frank Brown: Caleb!
Everyone looks over at Seth, who’s holding a broken bottle of Patrón in his hand.
Seth Lerch: What?
The next morning, Caleb wakes up in his hotel room.
Oh my God, why do I have such a headache? How much did I drink last night? I don’t even remember leaving the bar. Shit, I’m never doing that again. I need some water.
Caleb goes to get up but he can’t move.
Caleb Ronan: What the hell?
He finds that his arms and legs have been handcuffed to the bedposts.
Caleb Ronan: Frank?! Frank?!
Seth Lerch: Frank’s not here, Caleb.
Seth appears at the foot of the bed.
Caleb Ronan: What the hell did you do to Frank?
Seth Lerch: Frank is fine, Caleb. He’s locked up in my suite. You need to worry about yourself right now.
Caleb Ronan: Why am I handcuffed to my bed?
Seth Lerch: You had a little bit of a meltdown last night. I’ve heard you’ve been having a few of them lately, including one at a Starbucks. You’re going to cost me money, you dumb shit.
Caleb’s eye starts to twitch again.
Caleb Ronan: Don’t---
Seth Lerch: What, trigger you? I wouldn’t worry about being triggered. You see, my Mexican doctor friend over here has a nice tranquilizer cocktail if you feel any triggering happening inside of you.
Caleb looks to his left to see a shady looking man in a white suit, white hat, black gloves, and sunglasses smiling at him.
Seth Lerch: I was going to fire you, but lucky for you, some of the other talent at the bar last night convinced me to give you a second chance. And since I generally fear most of them, I reconsidered.
He takes a seat on the edge of the bed.
Seth Lerch: So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to stay locked to your bed. Someone will come around to bring you meals, but you are not leaving this room until your match next on Sunday. After that, I’m putting you on a plane back to America, where you are going to meet with a shrink that I have personally selected for you. I’ve already arranged the appointment. And if you miss the appointment, you will be terminated.
Caleb Ronan: Seth, you can’t illegally imprison me like this! This is a human rights abuse!
Seth looks at the shady doctor. They both laugh.
Seth Lerch: Caleb, this is Mexico. There is no such thing as human rights here.
He walks to the door but turns around before he walks out.
Seth Lerch: By the way, you may want to wear something besides your beanie and plaid shirt when you go to your appointment. It is going to be seen by all of America, you know.
Caleb Ronan: What? Why?
Seth Lerch: Oh, I didn’t tell you? It must have slipped my mind. The shrink is actually a very good friend of mine. His name is...Dr. Phil.
Caleb Ronan is having a meltdown.
Caleb Ronan: No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
It’s a few hours after Slam and Caleb is frantically running through Mexico City, looking for a cell phone repair shop after Kaz Mazy crushed his smartphone. Frank Brown is in tow.
Caleb Ronan: No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
He finds some kind of store that has cell phones in it and tries his luck.
Caleb Ronan: ¡Señor! ¡Señor! Please, fix my smartphone!
The clerk behind the counter stares at him confused.
Caleb Ronan: Um, um, oh God. How do I say it in Spanish?! Come on, Caleb, think! You took one semester of Spanish! Um, um, ¡señor, por favor arreglas mi, um...smartphone!
Caleb dumps the contents of his broken phone on the counter.
Clerk: Señor, yo no soluciona los smartphones. Yo sólo los vendo.
Caleb Ronan: (to Frank) What is he saying?!
Frank Brown: I don’t know, Caleb!
Caleb Ronan: (to the clerk) ¡Arreglas mi smartphone!
Clerk: No puedo, no puedo.
The clerk shakes his head.
Caleb Ronan: You can’t?!
He paces around the room, holding his head. Suddenly he growls, lifts up his hands, and smashes the glass counter where the broken phone sits.
Clerk: ¡El diablo!
The clerk runs out into the street.
Clerk: ¡Policía! ¡Policía!
Frank Brown: Caleb, we better get out of here.
Frank and Caleb run out of the store and find a bar to hide out in.
Frank: Let’s get you a drink. You need one.
Caleb looks around as he walks up to the bar. He sees a lot of familiar faces from the locker room; Grayson Pierce, Mikey eXtreme, Bonnie Blue, Logan (celebrating his World Title win), and Cathy Fitch. Seth is at the back of the bar taking shots of tequila.
Caleb Ronan: Oh, God, we couldn’t have picked a worse bar, Frank.
Frank Brown: It’s okay, Caleb. Let’s just have a beer and go back to the hotel.
They take a seat. Caleb looks at what’s on tap but doesn’t recognize any of the beers.
Caleb Ronan: (to the bartender) Do you have any Blue Point Toasted Lager?
The bartender looks at Caleb peculiarly.
Caleb Ronan: No? How about Brooklyn Lager?
Still a strange look.
Caleb Ronan: Vanilla Porter? Sierra Nevada Pale Ale? 21st Amendment Bitter American?
The bartender grabs a glass, picks a tap, pours the beer, and hands the glass to Caleb.
Bartender: Tecate.
The bartender walks away?
Caleb Ronan: I can’t believe they don’t have craft beer in this place.
Frank Brown: I know. It’s almost like we’re in a third world country. Well, whatever, let’s just drink what we’ve got.
They toast their glasses.
Frank Brown: Did you see who you’re facing next week?
Caleb Ronan: Yeah, Kyle Kemp and John Gable. Another tag match after tonight’s went so splendidly.
Frank Brown: Caleb, you did the best you could. You can’t control how your partners do.
Caleb Ronan: Why do I even need to be in these tag matches anyway? I’ve paid my dues here. I’ve been around two months now. I should be getting a shot at the World Title.
Frank Brown: You’re exactly right, Caleb. But hey, your opponents aren’t just some no names in the WCF. Kyle Kemp and John Gable are regarded as two of the best in the whole promotion.
Caleb Ronan: I suppose you’re right, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re two white privileged fucking males. I mean, did you hear Kemp’s comments tonight?
Frank Brown: I did. Reprehensible.
Caleb Ronan: First he runs down the people of Mexico City, saying they’re trash. A proud people such as the Mexicanos are not trash. Then he tells them that they shouldn’t waste their time trying to come into America because the American Dream is unattainable for anyone but him. You know what’s trash? Kyle Kemp’s baseball career. Did you even know he had a baseball career?
Frank Brown: That is so amazing that you knew that.
Caleb Ronan: Yeah, he was in the minor leagues. Then he was caught betting on games and was banned for life. Great career to speak of, right? The man has to hide the fact that he ruined his baseball career by running down other people that he think are inferior to his talent. He didn’t achieve his American Dream, so he has to make it seem as if no one can achieve the American Dream. He projects so much.
Frank Brown: He said that all the partying he does shows that he has achieved the American Dream.
Caleb Ronan: Oh, sure, that’s what the American Dream is: all the cisgender behavior that “all men” are supposed to exhibit; all that misogynistic bullshit that society wants men to do in order to keep the precious social structure that the corporations have built for us alive. Yeah, that’s the American Dream. I guess you have to believe that lie if you fail in life.
If Kyle Kemp were really living the American Dream, he wouldn’t have to put up the huge façade that he puts up every day of his life. The American Dream is being happy about the life that you have in America, not hating yourself for it. Instead of embracing his life in America and doing the best that he can with the best that he has, he embraces alcohol and promiscuous sex, thinking that those two things are the pinnacle of being an American. They’re not.
He’s only hurting himself, really. If he hadn’t been greedy, he wouldn’t have gotten himself banned from baseball. If he hadn’t been out partying all day and night, he would have won the Trilogy Tournament and been the one facing Logan for the World Title at Asesinato de Mayo. The man is in a self-destructive cycle. He’s unhappy, so he parties. He parties, so he doesn’t succeed. He doesn’t succeed, so he’s unhappy; and it just goes around and around and around and around.
Caleb moves his finger around in a big circle as he says “around and around.”
Caleb Ronan: Unfortunately, John Gable’s life has paralleled Kyle’s so much that now he’s living the same life.
Frank Brown: Wasn’t he, like, a movie star or something?
Caleb Ronan: Yeah, “something” is more like it. He never actually made it big in the movie industry, so he turned to wrestling to use it as a catapult to success in cinema. Suffice it to say, he still hasn’t been able to make it.
Frank Brown: A lot of people say he’s the best wrestler never to win the WCF World Championship.
Caleb Ronan: I’ve heard the same thing, and look what he does to cope with it. He joins up with #Beachkrew and mimics the worst behavior that any human can exhibit. Just like Kyle Kemp, he hides his disappointment and self-loathing by buying into the chauvinistic ideology that has led to millions of campus rapes all across the country.
Frank Brown: You care so much about humanity, Caleb.
Caleb Ronan: Well someone has to, because Gable certainly isn’t going to do it. You know what I’ve heard? He’s trying to go around, modernizing people that he sees as living outside of modern culture? Who is he to say what modern culture even is, let alone try to convert people to abandon the lives that they’ve created for themselves? He hasn’t been able to live the life that he’s wanted to live, so he tries to drag people down; that way they can’t live the life that they want to live. John Gable should worry about himself and get his life in order.
Frank Brown: Have you heard about how he’s been trying to manipulate the people he’s trying to change? He’s giving them drugs.
Caleb Ronan: You’re kidding me? Really? You’d think an actor would know how to use his words to persuade people. I guess he’s not that great after all. No wonder he hasn’t made it in Hollywood.
Frank Brown: I don’t see how he’s made it in wrestling. He hates it.
Caleb Ronan: Why would you willingly do something that you hate. John Gable reminds me of a man who marries a woman but is secretly gay. He goes through life torturing himself because all he wants to do is be who he really is but he just can’t, so he hates himself his entire life and eventually self-destructs. John Gable is going to self-destruct. One of these days, he’s going to realize that all the things he’s done to try to make himself happy, whether it was joining #Beachkrew, becoming a wrestler, or feeding drugs to people in order to warp their brains has gotten him nowhere, and by that point he’s going to have to be on suicide watch. If I had to be him, I’d be on suicide watch already.
I feel bad for both Kemp and Gable, really. They remind me of the Poondock Saints. They have some deficiency in life, so they make up for it by causing debauchery and putting other people down. For the Poondock Saints, their deficiency is that they’re all mentally handicapped. For Kemp and Gable, their deficiency is that they can’t accept who they are and can’t accept their failures. It takes really insecure men to call other people losers when they themselves are the real losers.
Frank Brown: Yeah. I mean, look at you. You live at home with your parents and you haven’t achieved your dream job of becoming a great writer, but you’re not a loser.
Caleb Ronan stares at Frank.
Caleb Ronan: We’re not talking about me, Frank.
Frank Brown: Oh. Sorry. Hey, did you catch Kemp saying that now he wants the U.S. Title?
Caleb Ronan: Yeah, isn’t that something. He spends his promo time running down everyone’s view of the American Dream and saying that he’s better than everybody, including his own countrymen...I’m sorry, countrypeople, and then says he wants to be their champion. I can’t think of anyone who deserves that title less than him. That would be like Donald Trump winning the presidency.
Frank Brown: I know, that’ll never happen!
Caleb Ronan: I know, can you imagine?!
They both have a good laugh. Caleb wipes his eyes.
Caleb Ronan: I needed that. But yeah, America has been a land of the privileged white males for too long, and having Kyle Kemp as the United States Champion will only serve to propagate that injustice even longer.
Frank Brown: Maybe you should be the United States Champion.
Caleb looks at Frank as if a light bulb has gone off in his head.
Caleb Ronan: I would be a great United States Champion! I could use the title as a platform to spread the message of social justice throughout the entire country!
Frank Brown: There you go, Caleb!
Caleb Ronan: Imagine an America where the Equal Rights Amendment finally gets passed, where black lives really do matter, where transgender bathrooms are mandated in every state, where college debts are forgiven for everyone, where ideas of hatred are pushed out of the body politic, where America becomes one big safe space, where…
Mikey eXtreme: (from a few tables away) Hey, shut the fuck up with that hippie, liberal bullshit!
Caleb Ronan: That’s a trigger, Mikey.
Mikey eXtreme: Like I give a fuck! I got your trigger right here!
Mikey points at his crotch. Caleb begins to feel himself shake.
Just sit down, Caleb. You’ve already had a stressful night. Don’t let his insensitivity get to you.
Caleb sits back down in his chair.
Frank Brown: So what are you going to do about your smartphone?
Caleb Ronan: I don’t know. I think I’m going to have to buy a new one. Which means I’ll have to get a…
He sighs.
Caleb Ronan: ...second job.
Frank Brown: Oh, my god, no. A second job? Really?
Caleb Ronan: Yeah. I really have no choice.
Frank Brown: Well, there is something you could try.
Caleb Ronan: What’s that?
Frank Brown: You could ask Seth for more money.
Caleb shudders a little bit.
Caleb Ronan: Oh, I don’t know about that.
Frank Brown: Why not?
Caleb Ronan: Remember when I asked about the participation award?
Frank Brown: Yeah, but he had just lost a match and was in a lot of pain. Now he’s drunk. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood.
Caleb looks over to the back of the bar at Seth.
Seth Lerch: Woooooo! Who wants to eat jalapeños off of my nips?!
Caleb shrugs his shoulders.
Caleb Ronan: Yeah, I guess you’re right.
Caleb gets off his seat. Frank pats him on the back.
Frank Brown: Go get em’, tiger!
Caleb slowly walks towards Seth’s table.
Don’t be scared. He’ll say “yes,” right? Come on, he’s not that bad. He can be sympathetic when he wants to be, right? I hope.
Caleb finally makes it to Seth’s table. Seth is downing a bottle of Patrón
Caleb Ronan: Um, S-S-Seth?
Seth pauses and shifts his eyes towards Caleb. He puts the bottle down.
Seth Lerch: Why do you always seem to interrupt me when I don’t want to be interrupted?
Caleb Ronan: I’m sorry, I just have a quick question for you.
Caleb waits for a response from Seth.
Seth Lerch: Well? What the fuck do you want?
Caleb Ronan: I was hoping to get a raise.
Seth stares at Caleb.
Seth Lerch: A what?
Caleb Ronan: Um, a raise.
Seth Lerch: Like, more money?
Caleb Ronan: Yeah.
Seth Lerch: Kid, I’d rather give you a participation award than pay you more.
Caleb looks back at Frank with a hopeless face. Frank gives Caleb a thumbs up. Caleb looks back at Seth.
Caleb Ronan: Seth, I really could use the money.
Seth Lerch: And I could really use a good blow job. We all have needs that go unfulfilled.
Caleb Ronan: So we can’t even negotiate?
Seth Lerch: I don’t negotiate with little shits like you. You know how long I’ve been doing this, kid? Longer than you’ve known how to jerk off. When you’re worth my time, I’ll come to you and tell you when I want to give you a raise.
Caleb Ronan: And when will I be worth your time?
Seth Lerch: When you actually accomplish something.
Caleb Ronan: But I’ve been trying really hard.
Seth gets up out of his chair and begins circling Caleb.
Seth Lerch: Everyone, could I have your attention, please. I just want everyone to know that Caleb Ronan believes he deserves a raise, even though he’s only won TWO matches during his first two months. But it’s okay, because he’s been trying “really hard.” Let’s give him a round of applause, shall we?!
Seth starts to clap until he’s right up in Caleb’s face. Caleb’s eye starts to twitch.
Caleb Ronan: Don’t do that, Seth. That’s a trigger.
Seth Lerch: What the fuck is a trigger?
Caleb Ronan: It’s anything that sets off anxiety and can be deemed offensive.
Seth Lerch: So me clapping is a trigger? Should I snap my fingers instead?
Caleb Ronan: Yes, that would be preferable, but it’s not just the clapping. It’s your sarcasm, too.
Seth Lerch: Oh, wittle baby Caweb doesn’t wike dat Seth is being sawcastic?
Caleb Ronan feels the muscles in his arm contracting.
Caleb Ronan: Seth, I’m asking you as nice as I can to just stop. Don’t trigger me.
Seth Lerch: Why? What are you gonna do? Report me to the non-existent human resources department? You gonna sic your boyfriend Frank on me? You’re certainly not going to fight me because you suck at that, as evidenced by your last three matches.
Caleb’s pecs and abs start to tighten.
Seth Lerch: You suck, kid. You’ve always sucked and you will continue to suck until you finally do all of us a favor and quit the WCF. But until then, I will never, ever give you a raise.
I can’t let this happen to me. I can’t lose control.
Caleb starts pacing around the bar frantically.
Caleb Ronan: Where’s the safe space in this bar? Where’s the safe space?
Caleb approaches the bartender and grabs him by the collar. His voice changes into the beast voice.
Caleb Ronan: ¿Dónde está el “safe space?”
The bartender drops a glass and runs into the kitchen. Caleb begins holding his head, as if to try to keep his rage inside. Bonnie Blue approaches him.
Bonnie Blue: Caleb, are you okay, bud?
Caleb Ronan: I need a safe space!
Bonnie Blue: Okay, but I don’t think they have any of those here.
Caleb screams, lifts up a chair, and smashes it. Bonnie runs away.
Frank Brown: Caleb, let’s get out of here.
Caleb Ronan: No, not until I get an apology from Seth for triggering me!
Seth Lerch: What? An apology? Fuck off!
Caleb picks up another chair. The other wrestlers surround him.
Grayson Pierce: Just calm down, boss. It’ll be alright.
Caleb Ronan: No, it won’t! I can’t win a match, my smartphone is broken, Seth won’t give me a raise, and he’s triggering me!
Seth Lerch: Would someone tackle this douchebag?
Grayson Pierce: Seth, don’t be a fucking asshole. It’s not helping the situation. Caleb, just put the chair down. I’m buying the next round. Just put the chair down and we’ll talk this out, okay?
Caleb looks around.
Perhaps these people are better than I thought. Maybe there are some good people in the WCF.
Caleb calms down and places the chair back on the ground. The bartender, who had been peeking out from the kitchen, comes back out.
Grayson Pierce: Good. Bartender, más cervezas, por favor.
Grayson walks over to Caleb and pats him on the back.
Grayson Pierce: I get stressed out sometimes, too. It’ll all be good.
They take a seat at the bar.
Caleb Ronan: Thanks. Sometimes I ju---
A glass bottle smashes over the back of Caleb’s head. Caleb immediately falls to the floor unconscious.
Frank Brown: Caleb!
Everyone looks over at Seth, who’s holding a broken bottle of Patrón in his hand.
Seth Lerch: What?
The next morning, Caleb wakes up in his hotel room.
Oh my God, why do I have such a headache? How much did I drink last night? I don’t even remember leaving the bar. Shit, I’m never doing that again. I need some water.
Caleb goes to get up but he can’t move.
Caleb Ronan: What the hell?
He finds that his arms and legs have been handcuffed to the bedposts.
Caleb Ronan: Frank?! Frank?!
Seth Lerch: Frank’s not here, Caleb.
Seth appears at the foot of the bed.
Caleb Ronan: What the hell did you do to Frank?
Seth Lerch: Frank is fine, Caleb. He’s locked up in my suite. You need to worry about yourself right now.
Caleb Ronan: Why am I handcuffed to my bed?
Seth Lerch: You had a little bit of a meltdown last night. I’ve heard you’ve been having a few of them lately, including one at a Starbucks. You’re going to cost me money, you dumb shit.
Caleb’s eye starts to twitch again.
Caleb Ronan: Don’t---
Seth Lerch: What, trigger you? I wouldn’t worry about being triggered. You see, my Mexican doctor friend over here has a nice tranquilizer cocktail if you feel any triggering happening inside of you.
Caleb looks to his left to see a shady looking man in a white suit, white hat, black gloves, and sunglasses smiling at him.
Seth Lerch: I was going to fire you, but lucky for you, some of the other talent at the bar last night convinced me to give you a second chance. And since I generally fear most of them, I reconsidered.
He takes a seat on the edge of the bed.
Seth Lerch: So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to stay locked to your bed. Someone will come around to bring you meals, but you are not leaving this room until your match next on Sunday. After that, I’m putting you on a plane back to America, where you are going to meet with a shrink that I have personally selected for you. I’ve already arranged the appointment. And if you miss the appointment, you will be terminated.
Caleb Ronan: Seth, you can’t illegally imprison me like this! This is a human rights abuse!
Seth looks at the shady doctor. They both laugh.
Seth Lerch: Caleb, this is Mexico. There is no such thing as human rights here.
He walks to the door but turns around before he walks out.
Seth Lerch: By the way, you may want to wear something besides your beanie and plaid shirt when you go to your appointment. It is going to be seen by all of America, you know.
Caleb Ronan: What? Why?
Seth Lerch: Oh, I didn’t tell you? It must have slipped my mind. The shrink is actually a very good friend of mine. His name is...Dr. Phil.
