Post by Jonny Fly on Sept 29, 2017 23:51:39 GMT -5
I believe we’ve properly recovered from the last scene. We’ve drank some water, got some electrolytes back in us, and shaken off the general dirty feeling that comes from an encounter with Kate Winslet. Glad that’s over with, am I right?
Just kidding. We’re back in studio with Seth Myers exactly where we left off previously. It’s time to test those gag reflexes, boys. It’s only going to get worse from here. Seth Myers is back on the question trail.
Myers: Wait, are you talking about Corey Black the wrestler?
Kate can’t answer the question because she’s in full swoon mode right now. She’s rubbing her thighs and, because we’re gluttons for punishment, we’re watching her touch herself. We notice a liquid substance running down her inner thigh and a small wet spot forming on the chair under her crotch. I’m telling you guys, if you ever need to throw up, ditch the two-finger routine. Just DVR this shit and play it back as needed.
Myers: I…are you sure you want to say this? I mean, it sounded like you just admitted you cheated on your husband with Corey Black.
Winslut: Many times. Many places. Many positions. Look, let me be honest. I love Corey Black. Corey Black loves me. We’ve been having sex multiple times a week for the last five years. My son, Bear - his real dad is Corey Black. I’ve never been faithful to Ned and if Corey Black is alive I never will be. We’re meant for one another. This is true love, Seth, and I can’t hide it any longer.
Myers: Whoa, whoa….this is…I don’t…isn’t this Corey Black the person that’s been spotted around town with Taylor Swift a couple times?
Winslut: Yes, and Taylor doesn’t know about us. It’s very sad. But she deserves to know that she is being led on, just like my husband deserves to know about my infidelity. It’s all out in the open now. Corey Black and Kate Winslet is as natural of a phenomenon as there is in this world. When our bodies get together it’s just…
(segment of scene removed to save everyone from dying)
Winslut: …and that’s how I contracted herpes and why Corey Black now takes Valtrex.
Myers: I have no idea what is going on. I’m…I’m just…wow.
Winslut: All I can say, Seth, is thank you. Thank you for this opportunity to get this off my chest. Now that this burden is removed, and space cleared, I can put parts of Corey Black onto my chest and…
(segment of scene removed to save everyone from dying x2)
Winslut: …but I can tell you this, he and I, tonight, we’re going to have the most wild, crazy, primal sex you can imagine. I feel like I’m back on the bow of the Titanic! Never let me go, Corey! We’re finally free to be ourselves and love one another forever, and ever, and ever!
Kate looks into the camera.
Winslut: I’m coming home to you, my little bearded daddy! Katie is coming home forever!
Winset jumps up from her seat and runs off stage, leaving an astonished Seth Myers behind – and a drip stain on the seat from her leaky vagina. Our camera follows Kate off screen. She runs through the curtain and comes to an immediate stop. Her previously mentioned son, Bear, is standing next to…
Jonny Fly.
Fly’s smirk is the first thing we notice. The second is his hand latched onto little Bear’s shoulder. Kate’s expression of overwhelming joy from when she was on set is long gone, replaced with one of deep concern.
Fly: What a performance! Bravo!
Winslut: You promised if I did that you would let my son go.
Fly: Of course, and I’m a man of my word.
Fly removes his hand from Bear’s shoulder and gently pushes him forward toward his mother. Kate immediately grabs him into a – wait for it – bear hug. She pulls him around to her side and uses her hand to push him behind her, the display of a protective mother.
Winslut: You’re a sick bastard, do you know that?
In response, Fly takes two steps forward. Now towering over Winslet, he responds to the comment.
Fly: We both know that what you said out there had some basis in truth. Don’t act so innocent. The only people harmed by this little stunt are your husband and CD, and they’re both fucking tools anyway. You should focus on your son. Cute kid. I’d hate to have to get to know him better – catch my drift?
Through clenched teeth, Winslet replies.
Winslut: Yes.
Fly: They say in your profession no publicity is bad publicity, right? Cheer up. You’re going to be the talk of the town tomorrow. They’ll ask you for a bunch of follow up interviews and all kinds of fun shit. Your disgusting mug is going to be plastered all over television. Live it, Kate. This is your peak. Just remember though – stick to the story, or else.
Fly winks at Kate (totally non-sexual), turns, and disappears. Our scene dissolves away as fast as possible to avoid having to show Kate Winslet on camera again.
…
Do people today still do interviews with Hank Brown? These are the pitfalls when you’ve been gone for so long. Fly doesn’t know Hank’s role with the company these days. He’s always been the mouthpiece for generations of WCF stars. But he’s old. He’s kind of dumb. He’s more lackey than competent, respected journalist type. Still, if you need a forum to speak, Hank will literally drop anything and everything to track you down and give you a microphone. You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. In one week’s time, Hank has traveled to Kansas, New York City, California, Antarctica, Denmark, and into a completely different time dimension to appear in wrestlers’ promos. I’ve seen it happen. There is nobody more committed to their craft than Hank Brown. Well, except maybe Jonny Fly in the craft of verbally assaulting Corey Black.
That’s the setting of which this scene has taken form. Hank Brown stopped everything he was doing, true to form, to hold serve with Jonny Fly at his Chicago Penthouse. Should we just copy the description given previously of this penthouse, or do you have the proper picture in your head? Check it out – Hank has opened shop in the open living room. He’s set up a single camera on a tripod with a side angle shot of Fly sitting on his couch. A separate love seat has been moved directly across the couch. That’s where Brown is sitting. Let’s recap, Fly is on a couch sitting across from Hankercheif who’s in a chair. Fly is donning his more casual look. Which actually isn’t all that casual – white collared button-up shirt, beige slacks, and brown leather dress shoes. The camera, and you as the viewer, are looking at this from the side. With the mechanics of this scene now established, let’s roll the tape. Hank turns to face the camera to begin his introduction.
Hank: Hello everyone, Hank Brown here. I’m joined today by WCF legend – Jonny Fly!
Fly: Correction. You joined me. This is my house.
Hank frowns. He turns to Fly.
Hank: I think – yeah, aren’t we saying the same thing?
Fly: You better tighten your shit up. This isn’t going to be like old times, Hank.
Hank had a beautiful and poetic opening all planned. Consider it officially ruined at this point.
Hank: What do you mean?
Fly: The interviews are always a give and take, right? You ask me questions, I answer them. You listen to my answer, ask follow-up questions, blah, blah.
Hank: That is standard, yes. But these are questions that the fans want answered. Like where you’ve been for the past 18 months, for example.
Fly leans forward on the couch. He stares at Hank and mutters…
Fly: Fuck the fans. I’m not trying to sell t-shirts here, Hank. Have you been paying attention to a god damn word I’ve said over the past month? This is about something much bigger.
Hank stammers around and finally finds a follow-up to Fly’s brief rant.
Hank: Well – right – I mean – yeah, Corey Black. This is, uh, a match you’ve really wanted. You want vengeance from One last year, right?
Fly rolls his eyes. He now leans back against the couch.
Fly: That’s the opinion of the lazy and uninformed. Vengeance is great. But that part of this match is inevitable, Hank. I will win. The only thing that has been beaten more times than Corey Black in the ring with me is CD’s own dick watching a Marvel movie. My problems with him stretch back much further than our last match. I tried to go away. I’ve BEEN away. I’ve waited for things to change. But they don’t, Hank. This motherfucker is walking around – in 2017 – like he’s still top dog. But I put that dog down years ago. Then, like the god damn legend that I am, had the great idea to revive ‘The King of all Wrestlers,’ put a Pantheon collar and leash on him, and prance him back around as my own little trained show dog. I shaved him up into a cute little design, taught him how to jump through hoops, fed him my fuckin’ scraps. All that shit.
Hank: …wow.
Fly: Come on, Hank. You were around back then. Corey Black didn’t do a damn thing without checking with his master. Phantasm is the one who told CD to buy that fuckin’ castle, The Dethfort. That’s the centerpiece of his whole persona today. I’m the one who bought out WCF from Seth and gave Pantheon members staff roles. Traveling in time? Body switching? Black face? Kate Winslet? Abraham Lincoln? Endless Terry Roberts and Doc Henry jokes? CIA operatives? Winning tag titles? Listen to me. Hear me clearly. Black - did - not – do – any – of – it.
Hank: You did?
Fly: More than my fair share. Those tag title reigns especially, all me. Every bit of it was on the back of my mastery inside a wrestling ring. CD was an anvil. I carried him to gold simply to challenge myself in an era when I was untouchable. I could have taken anyone to a tag title. You and I could be multi-time Tag Team champions, Hank. That shit was easy. I gave Corey Black life. I gave him a second career. The self-proclaimed greatest wrestler in the history of the company was resuscitated and mended back to health by the great mind and body of Jonny Fly. If he is the king of all wrestlers, then I am the god that he and his people kneel before.
Hank: Let’s get to the crux of this matter, though. You say your problems stretch back further than your last match. You must have been motivated to win then, but it didn’t happen. What’s going to be different this time?
Fly: Everything.
Hank: Will you elaborate?
Fly: You asked what’s going to be different. The answer is everything. Everything is going to be different. I created that last match when I was merely annoyed with Corey Black’s insistence on keeping Pantheon alive. We had gone our separate directions, but the things he did afterward spit in the face of my legacy and what I had done for him. But I’m no longer annoyed. I’m infuriated. The slow burn of time has done nothing but fuel an unquenchable anger. If Corey Black thinks I’m going to wrestle down to his level this time, he’s sadly mistaken. He’s going to feel a hurt that can’t adequately be articulated into words. I’m going to bury him. Not in dirt, but in cement. Then I’m going to take his cement casket, prop it up on the steps of WCF headquarters and engrave a warning to all wrestlers for all of history…
Jonny. Fly. Always. Wins. In. The. End.
This is who I am. This is what I’ve done throughout my career. If this is the last match I ever have, I will have at least have dragged Corey Black through hell one more time and exposed him for the piece of shit he’s always been.
Hank: Who has he always been?
Fly: CD present himself as the wrestling purist. The guy above reproach. He’s the voice of reason, the elder statesman, and the loyalist. He’s above the fray. It’s an act; a concoction of condescension. At his core, Corey Black is manipulating and opportunistic. He spends his television time selling his wrestling skill with the same vitality of a used car salesman. But his talent never allows him to complete the sale. Nevertheless, he comes back the next day as if nothing ever happened. He has self-inflicted amnesia. He can’t remember any of his losses, but…oh, those wins and titles 10 years ago…he’ll shove that in your face until the end of time.
But time is running out. This charade of his mythical force of wrestling skill. This charade that wrestlers should bow before him. That he should get every match he wants, and that even on a part-time schedule, he’s some indispensable piece of this company. It’s all pure unaltered horse shit. Everyone knows who I am. I’m many of these same things, but I don’t run from it. I don’t put on a costume and a mask and act holier than thou like Corey Black. He’s playing everyone for a fool – except me. I might know him better than anyone, and as such I’m qualified to make that statement.
Hank: So, let me get this straight…
Fly: Don’t fuckin’ interrupt me, Hank. I want to make something clear to everyone. I don’t NEED to beat Corey Black at War. I’ll fade away into time and generations of wrestlers after both of us will know that one on one – Jonny Fly was better than Corey Black. There’s been too many matches between us for CD to rewrite that history with one fluke win. In a world of untruths, fake news, misleading commentary, and Corey Black’s knack for revisionist history – that’s a rock-hard fact. This match isn’t about need. It’s about want. Corey Black, to this day, continues to live of my stable. “The Pantheon” – what a fuckin’ crock of shit. In the pantheon of Pantheon, Corey Black is on the JV squad. His impact was minimal. His achievements inconsequential. He did not start the stable. He was not part of original Pantheon. He is not responsible for its rise, heights, or greatest achievements. He was not the leader, planner, organizer, or enforcer of anything. Hiss role was to just sell our jokes! He was the ‘straight guy’ in a comedy troupe. Yet, people today think he was ‘the guy’ in the most decorated stable in history. The opportunist he is - he turned that ignorance into a fuckin’ nickname just trying to wedge that knife in a bit deeper. But you can’t kill me. You can only piss me off.
There’s not a wrestler alive who would allow their achievements to be stolen from them, like Corey Black has tried to do to me. But I’m hardly the only one targeted. CD continues to warp the minds of young wrestlers. He holds others down. He churns out average match after average match, loss after loss, but portrays himself without a care in the world. Like he’s bigger than those matches, those opponents, and the results don’t matter. But we’re the wrestlers. The results are the ONLY thing that matters. Corey Black has had a pass on this for far too long. You can’t lose in the motherfucking midcard and retain relevance. If a wrestler wants to respect CD and kiss the guy’s ass for what he did long ago, I know where you can find a time machine. You guys remember Johnny Reb’s Ranchero, right? People can go back to yesteryear and suck his dick for all I care. But today – right now – Corey Black is the most unexceptional, bland, and flaccid wrestler on the fuckin’ roster. He can’t hide or run from those facts. He exposes himself every time he wrestles. Everyone sees it, I’m just the guy saying it on camera.
Corey Black is a two-bit Flyjobber living off accomplishments accrued from longevity. He’s never been considered the most skilled or talented wrestler in the company – and that’s only gotten worse as they years have ticked on by. Even during his prime, it was always Logan, Torture, or Cairo who were considered the best. Then it was me. Corey Black has been a tier below the top guys his entire career, yet we’re supposed to believe he’s the greatest wrestler ever? Am I fucking stupid? Does that make any sense? I’ve beaten Corey Black three of four times. I’ve carried him to multiple tag titles. I won four World Titles in my first two years – and I defended them! He’s won six in 15 years and jobbed all of them out a month later. Black has never won Ultimate Showdown. He’s never won War. But he’s the greatest wrestler ever? That’s the logical reasoning of a mentally handicapped simpleton.
If some passable cashier works at motherfuckin’ Walmart for 15 years, does that make them the greatest employee in Walmart history? Just because they hung around? CD wants to fight this perception. He just doesn’t have a good argument. This is yet another thing that is solved in the ring with results. If you want to be known as the greatest wrestler ever, you present your case, month by month, year by year. Corey Black presented his case pre-2010 and then gave up. He relegated himself to a bit player. He skills eroded. His appearances became fluff matches against jobbers. His persona switched from a man hungry for the spotlight and accolades, to a guy content to share and/or steal them from others to stay relevant. As eras turned over and talent improved, he found that way to be much easier – and so it’s gone for the last seven years.
Hank who’s been sitting patiently through the rant decides to chime in.
Hank: …but you believe this match will be the end for him?
Fly: I do, Hank. Intelligence isn’t boasted about often in this industry. We’re more of the brute gladiator type who hit each other until the other falls. But let me remind people that ‘ending someone’ can be done multiple ways. I have a multi-pronged strategy to ruin Corey Black – to ensure that he is never the same person, and that he never wrestlers in another match after War. No spoilers. But that plan has already been put into action.
Hank: Are you saying that your plan is more than just beating him at War?
Fly: Read the tea leaves, Hank. In speaking of CD’s fate, I’ve used the phrase “destroyed physically, mentally, and emotionally.” You seem to only be concerned with the physical part of that statement. I’d encourage you, and everyone, to pay close attention. When this is all said and done, I want you to truly understand my power and my genius. By the time our match at War comes around, Corey Black will be alive and well. I wouldn’t miss the chance to punctuate my plan in the ring. But I assure you…he’ll wish he was dead. Now…
Fly holds up his arm and looks at his watch.
Fly: That’s all the time I have for you. You’re free to leave.
Hank: Oh, well, just one more…
Fly: Hank. No. I’ve said all I need to about Corey Black at this point. My words don’t need to carry the rest of the week. My actions will do that.
Fly winks and then rises from his seat.
Fly: I need to go change. By the time I come back, clean all this shit up and hit the road.
That’s the last comment Fly makes directly on camera. He walks toward the kitchen and ducks around behind the kitchen into his bedroom. Inside the bedroom there’s a set of closet double doors in the back-right corner. Fly walks toward those doors and opens them as if he was decompressing an accordion. As the doors move to the side, we’re left in shock on what we see in front of us.
Nikki Venus.
Corey Black’s female manager is standing with her hands tied above her head, onto the closet rod. There’s duct tape over her mouth and bruises across her face, likely from the initial struggle that preceded her capture and placement into Fly’s Penthouse. Venus begins to wiggle as she sees Fly. She attempts a kick in his direction, but Fly isn’t close enough for it to land. We hear sounds coming from her mouth, but they’re muted by the tape and indistinguishable. Fly laughs and quickly reaches into the closet and grabs a navy sportscoat. Venus attempts another kick at him, but Fly pulls away just in time.
Fly: Feisty girl. I’ve always liked that about you.
Fly pulls the sportscoat over his dress shirt and adjusts the sleeves to sit correctly. He asks to Nikki:
Fly: How do I look?
Nikki screams something that, once again, we can’t hear.
Fly: Alright babe, well I must hit the road. I don’t want to miss my flight to Europe. Hang out here for a bit, I’ll see you in a few days.
Pun intended. Fly flashes his trademark smirk as he gently closes the closet doors. He turns away and looks over toward the bed where a pre-packed duffel bag is sitting. He walks over and grabs the bag and exits the room. As he walks back out to the main living space of the penthouse he pauses for a moment to look around. Hank Brown and his camera are long-gone. Fly nods his head ever-so-slightly in approval, and then turns and walks toward the elevator. A long trip awaits.
…
Fly: Do you know what I love about your country?
Those words bring us into our next scene. It’s a day later, and Jonny Fly has flown across the Atlantic to Copenhagen. After touching down in the city, Fly was picked up by government limo and ushered away to Christiansborg Palace – home of the operating arm of the Denmark government. It’s a sight to see, to be sure. A wrestler from the United States holding serve in the Palace with Denmark’s Deputy Minister of Defense, Claus Hjort Frederiksen. But that’s where we’re at.
Specifically, our scene has begun in Claus’ office. Around the lobby of the palace is the Parliament Wing of the structure. This area is used by the country’s legislature bodies and includes various offices for leaders of Denmark’s administration – which includes Claus. The office is decorated in your normal statesmanlike flair. There’s various imagery of Denmark on the walls. A flag on a stand sits in the back of the room. A large polished wooden desk is the centerpiece of the space, which is where Claus is currently sitting. Across from him in a beige leather chair with wooden arms sits Jonny Fly. As shown by Fly’s opening statement, this meeting has already begun.
Claus: What would that be, Mister Fly? (do yourself a favor, say these lines with a Danish accent)
Fly: For the last decade countries across the world have been contracting their militaries. The recession did a number on defense budgets, did it not?
Claus: Yes. This country felt the brunt of that. But we prospered and prevailed.
Fly: …and dumped money back into your military?
Claus: Eventually, yes. We have reorganized our forces to be more operation ready.
Fly: Can I ask why?
Claus: There’s something to be said for the fight and spirit of a country when it is most weak. Our debt crisis was the worst in Europe. That vulnerability led to a reevaluation of our military strategy. Not only can our commitment to our forces stabilize our position, but perhaps we can be an asset to our EU neighbors who helped us in our time of crisis.
Fly: You want your country to be formidable. You don’t want to be a red line expense on the EU budget, with nothing to offer but debt and cookies. I get it.
Claus: I’m to understand, Mister Fly, that you have a business proposal to discuss today. I’m not sure what this conversation has to do with such proposal.
Fly: Well, I’m just trying to do my homework. You see, I need help with something from your forces. I’d like a few military vehicles and permission to do a – well, a military exercise in your country.
Claus sits silently and contemplates the previous statement. Eventually, he folds his hands in front of him and sets them on the desk. Leaning forward, he replies.
Claus: It is a curious request. I’m not sure why my people agreed to arrange this meeting. A citizen of the United States coming here to Denmark and asking permission to use our military equipment, such an action would not be permitted by this office. You can understand, yes?
Fly shakes his head ‘no.’
Fly: No, with all due respect. I can’t understand. You see, my goal is nothing more than to help you. To help you help me. On an unmarked island off the coast of Jutland there’s a piece of property that is historic land to this country. The property of the ancient castle now referred to as ‘The Dethfort.’ You are familiar with this, correct?
Claus: Of course. Site of one of our former operational battle forts that protected the coastline of this country.
Fly: Right. Now, it’s embarrassingly owned by another wrestler from the United States. I can only imagine you guys would like that property back. Considering the growth of your military, perhaps that old fort could be use? Unmarked location on the coast, high rock walls, fortified structure, perfect strategic hideaway – I could go on.
Claus: What are you getting at?
Fly: I can drive Corey Black off that property for you. Then your government can go back in and reclaim the land as its own.
Claus: I don’t understand how that involves us allowing you to use our forces.
Fly: Oh, that’s just for scare tactics. Corey Black is a stubborn little man. He’s going to need the proper motivation to abandon his beloved castle. That motivation would be the Denmark military blowing him away into the North Sea. I need to lead the mission because, well, surely you don’t want your hand to be dirtied by this plan. You need plausible deniability. Same for your men. As an outsider, I’m the perfect person to get this job done.
Claus: I can’t help but wonder what is your motivation for doing this?
Fly: Fair question. The truth is, back in the states I have some serious issues with this individual. I would welcome the opportunity to take The Dethfort away from him. That’s why I don’t mind jumping down into the snakepit for you, if you understand that reference. Look, all you need to understand is that this is a win-win for both of us. You’ll get your land and castle back. I’ll get to fuck Corey Black over. I just need your approval and some equipment to scare him away. What do you say?
Claus rubs his chin with his right hand, thinking through the proposal. It’s an interesting predicament for him. Denmark is one of the least corrupt governments in the world. But a chance to return a historic, and strategic, piece of land to the country without being implicated in the plot is a tempting offer.
Claus: What do you say to a tank?
Fly: One tank?
Claus: Just one. Old one, Cold War Era. We have bunker with tank 10 kilometers from castle. Very discrete. I will send word to the commander to expect your visit.
Fly: I suppose that will have to work.
Claus: Mister Fly. I must receive your word. My people will let you borrow tank, but we can be of no further assistance. The public must not know us to be involved. If caught, it will be deemed that you stole tank and you will be imprisoned and prosecuted in accordance with our laws. Are we clear?
Fly: You have my word.
Claus: One last thing.
Fly: Yes?
Claus: Absolutely no damage to castle. It’s important that we preserve it.
Fly nods his head agreeing with the statement.
Fly: I would never do such a thing. You can trust me.
There’s an unsettling glitter in Fly’s eyes as he says the last words. He gets up from his seat and extends his hand across the desk. Claus grasps the hand in return to cement their agreement. We fade to black.
Just kidding. We’re back in studio with Seth Myers exactly where we left off previously. It’s time to test those gag reflexes, boys. It’s only going to get worse from here. Seth Myers is back on the question trail.
Myers: Wait, are you talking about Corey Black the wrestler?
Kate can’t answer the question because she’s in full swoon mode right now. She’s rubbing her thighs and, because we’re gluttons for punishment, we’re watching her touch herself. We notice a liquid substance running down her inner thigh and a small wet spot forming on the chair under her crotch. I’m telling you guys, if you ever need to throw up, ditch the two-finger routine. Just DVR this shit and play it back as needed.
Myers: I…are you sure you want to say this? I mean, it sounded like you just admitted you cheated on your husband with Corey Black.
Winslut: Many times. Many places. Many positions. Look, let me be honest. I love Corey Black. Corey Black loves me. We’ve been having sex multiple times a week for the last five years. My son, Bear - his real dad is Corey Black. I’ve never been faithful to Ned and if Corey Black is alive I never will be. We’re meant for one another. This is true love, Seth, and I can’t hide it any longer.
Myers: Whoa, whoa….this is…I don’t…isn’t this Corey Black the person that’s been spotted around town with Taylor Swift a couple times?
Winslut: Yes, and Taylor doesn’t know about us. It’s very sad. But she deserves to know that she is being led on, just like my husband deserves to know about my infidelity. It’s all out in the open now. Corey Black and Kate Winslet is as natural of a phenomenon as there is in this world. When our bodies get together it’s just…
(segment of scene removed to save everyone from dying)
Winslut: …and that’s how I contracted herpes and why Corey Black now takes Valtrex.
Myers: I have no idea what is going on. I’m…I’m just…wow.
Winslut: All I can say, Seth, is thank you. Thank you for this opportunity to get this off my chest. Now that this burden is removed, and space cleared, I can put parts of Corey Black onto my chest and…
(segment of scene removed to save everyone from dying x2)
Winslut: …but I can tell you this, he and I, tonight, we’re going to have the most wild, crazy, primal sex you can imagine. I feel like I’m back on the bow of the Titanic! Never let me go, Corey! We’re finally free to be ourselves and love one another forever, and ever, and ever!
Kate looks into the camera.
Winslut: I’m coming home to you, my little bearded daddy! Katie is coming home forever!
Winset jumps up from her seat and runs off stage, leaving an astonished Seth Myers behind – and a drip stain on the seat from her leaky vagina. Our camera follows Kate off screen. She runs through the curtain and comes to an immediate stop. Her previously mentioned son, Bear, is standing next to…
Jonny Fly.
Fly’s smirk is the first thing we notice. The second is his hand latched onto little Bear’s shoulder. Kate’s expression of overwhelming joy from when she was on set is long gone, replaced with one of deep concern.
Fly: What a performance! Bravo!
Winslut: You promised if I did that you would let my son go.
Fly: Of course, and I’m a man of my word.
Fly removes his hand from Bear’s shoulder and gently pushes him forward toward his mother. Kate immediately grabs him into a – wait for it – bear hug. She pulls him around to her side and uses her hand to push him behind her, the display of a protective mother.
Winslut: You’re a sick bastard, do you know that?
In response, Fly takes two steps forward. Now towering over Winslet, he responds to the comment.
Fly: We both know that what you said out there had some basis in truth. Don’t act so innocent. The only people harmed by this little stunt are your husband and CD, and they’re both fucking tools anyway. You should focus on your son. Cute kid. I’d hate to have to get to know him better – catch my drift?
Through clenched teeth, Winslet replies.
Winslut: Yes.
Fly: They say in your profession no publicity is bad publicity, right? Cheer up. You’re going to be the talk of the town tomorrow. They’ll ask you for a bunch of follow up interviews and all kinds of fun shit. Your disgusting mug is going to be plastered all over television. Live it, Kate. This is your peak. Just remember though – stick to the story, or else.
Fly winks at Kate (totally non-sexual), turns, and disappears. Our scene dissolves away as fast as possible to avoid having to show Kate Winslet on camera again.
…
Do people today still do interviews with Hank Brown? These are the pitfalls when you’ve been gone for so long. Fly doesn’t know Hank’s role with the company these days. He’s always been the mouthpiece for generations of WCF stars. But he’s old. He’s kind of dumb. He’s more lackey than competent, respected journalist type. Still, if you need a forum to speak, Hank will literally drop anything and everything to track you down and give you a microphone. You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. In one week’s time, Hank has traveled to Kansas, New York City, California, Antarctica, Denmark, and into a completely different time dimension to appear in wrestlers’ promos. I’ve seen it happen. There is nobody more committed to their craft than Hank Brown. Well, except maybe Jonny Fly in the craft of verbally assaulting Corey Black.
That’s the setting of which this scene has taken form. Hank Brown stopped everything he was doing, true to form, to hold serve with Jonny Fly at his Chicago Penthouse. Should we just copy the description given previously of this penthouse, or do you have the proper picture in your head? Check it out – Hank has opened shop in the open living room. He’s set up a single camera on a tripod with a side angle shot of Fly sitting on his couch. A separate love seat has been moved directly across the couch. That’s where Brown is sitting. Let’s recap, Fly is on a couch sitting across from Hankercheif who’s in a chair. Fly is donning his more casual look. Which actually isn’t all that casual – white collared button-up shirt, beige slacks, and brown leather dress shoes. The camera, and you as the viewer, are looking at this from the side. With the mechanics of this scene now established, let’s roll the tape. Hank turns to face the camera to begin his introduction.
Hank: Hello everyone, Hank Brown here. I’m joined today by WCF legend – Jonny Fly!
Fly: Correction. You joined me. This is my house.
Hank frowns. He turns to Fly.
Hank: I think – yeah, aren’t we saying the same thing?
Fly: You better tighten your shit up. This isn’t going to be like old times, Hank.
Hank had a beautiful and poetic opening all planned. Consider it officially ruined at this point.
Hank: What do you mean?
Fly: The interviews are always a give and take, right? You ask me questions, I answer them. You listen to my answer, ask follow-up questions, blah, blah.
Hank: That is standard, yes. But these are questions that the fans want answered. Like where you’ve been for the past 18 months, for example.
Fly leans forward on the couch. He stares at Hank and mutters…
Fly: Fuck the fans. I’m not trying to sell t-shirts here, Hank. Have you been paying attention to a god damn word I’ve said over the past month? This is about something much bigger.
Hank stammers around and finally finds a follow-up to Fly’s brief rant.
Hank: Well – right – I mean – yeah, Corey Black. This is, uh, a match you’ve really wanted. You want vengeance from One last year, right?
Fly rolls his eyes. He now leans back against the couch.
Fly: That’s the opinion of the lazy and uninformed. Vengeance is great. But that part of this match is inevitable, Hank. I will win. The only thing that has been beaten more times than Corey Black in the ring with me is CD’s own dick watching a Marvel movie. My problems with him stretch back much further than our last match. I tried to go away. I’ve BEEN away. I’ve waited for things to change. But they don’t, Hank. This motherfucker is walking around – in 2017 – like he’s still top dog. But I put that dog down years ago. Then, like the god damn legend that I am, had the great idea to revive ‘The King of all Wrestlers,’ put a Pantheon collar and leash on him, and prance him back around as my own little trained show dog. I shaved him up into a cute little design, taught him how to jump through hoops, fed him my fuckin’ scraps. All that shit.
Hank: …wow.
Fly: Come on, Hank. You were around back then. Corey Black didn’t do a damn thing without checking with his master. Phantasm is the one who told CD to buy that fuckin’ castle, The Dethfort. That’s the centerpiece of his whole persona today. I’m the one who bought out WCF from Seth and gave Pantheon members staff roles. Traveling in time? Body switching? Black face? Kate Winslet? Abraham Lincoln? Endless Terry Roberts and Doc Henry jokes? CIA operatives? Winning tag titles? Listen to me. Hear me clearly. Black - did - not – do – any – of – it.
Hank: You did?
Fly: More than my fair share. Those tag title reigns especially, all me. Every bit of it was on the back of my mastery inside a wrestling ring. CD was an anvil. I carried him to gold simply to challenge myself in an era when I was untouchable. I could have taken anyone to a tag title. You and I could be multi-time Tag Team champions, Hank. That shit was easy. I gave Corey Black life. I gave him a second career. The self-proclaimed greatest wrestler in the history of the company was resuscitated and mended back to health by the great mind and body of Jonny Fly. If he is the king of all wrestlers, then I am the god that he and his people kneel before.
Hank: Let’s get to the crux of this matter, though. You say your problems stretch back further than your last match. You must have been motivated to win then, but it didn’t happen. What’s going to be different this time?
Fly: Everything.
Hank: Will you elaborate?
Fly: You asked what’s going to be different. The answer is everything. Everything is going to be different. I created that last match when I was merely annoyed with Corey Black’s insistence on keeping Pantheon alive. We had gone our separate directions, but the things he did afterward spit in the face of my legacy and what I had done for him. But I’m no longer annoyed. I’m infuriated. The slow burn of time has done nothing but fuel an unquenchable anger. If Corey Black thinks I’m going to wrestle down to his level this time, he’s sadly mistaken. He’s going to feel a hurt that can’t adequately be articulated into words. I’m going to bury him. Not in dirt, but in cement. Then I’m going to take his cement casket, prop it up on the steps of WCF headquarters and engrave a warning to all wrestlers for all of history…
Jonny. Fly. Always. Wins. In. The. End.
This is who I am. This is what I’ve done throughout my career. If this is the last match I ever have, I will have at least have dragged Corey Black through hell one more time and exposed him for the piece of shit he’s always been.
Hank: Who has he always been?
Fly: CD present himself as the wrestling purist. The guy above reproach. He’s the voice of reason, the elder statesman, and the loyalist. He’s above the fray. It’s an act; a concoction of condescension. At his core, Corey Black is manipulating and opportunistic. He spends his television time selling his wrestling skill with the same vitality of a used car salesman. But his talent never allows him to complete the sale. Nevertheless, he comes back the next day as if nothing ever happened. He has self-inflicted amnesia. He can’t remember any of his losses, but…oh, those wins and titles 10 years ago…he’ll shove that in your face until the end of time.
But time is running out. This charade of his mythical force of wrestling skill. This charade that wrestlers should bow before him. That he should get every match he wants, and that even on a part-time schedule, he’s some indispensable piece of this company. It’s all pure unaltered horse shit. Everyone knows who I am. I’m many of these same things, but I don’t run from it. I don’t put on a costume and a mask and act holier than thou like Corey Black. He’s playing everyone for a fool – except me. I might know him better than anyone, and as such I’m qualified to make that statement.
Hank: So, let me get this straight…
Fly: Don’t fuckin’ interrupt me, Hank. I want to make something clear to everyone. I don’t NEED to beat Corey Black at War. I’ll fade away into time and generations of wrestlers after both of us will know that one on one – Jonny Fly was better than Corey Black. There’s been too many matches between us for CD to rewrite that history with one fluke win. In a world of untruths, fake news, misleading commentary, and Corey Black’s knack for revisionist history – that’s a rock-hard fact. This match isn’t about need. It’s about want. Corey Black, to this day, continues to live of my stable. “The Pantheon” – what a fuckin’ crock of shit. In the pantheon of Pantheon, Corey Black is on the JV squad. His impact was minimal. His achievements inconsequential. He did not start the stable. He was not part of original Pantheon. He is not responsible for its rise, heights, or greatest achievements. He was not the leader, planner, organizer, or enforcer of anything. Hiss role was to just sell our jokes! He was the ‘straight guy’ in a comedy troupe. Yet, people today think he was ‘the guy’ in the most decorated stable in history. The opportunist he is - he turned that ignorance into a fuckin’ nickname just trying to wedge that knife in a bit deeper. But you can’t kill me. You can only piss me off.
There’s not a wrestler alive who would allow their achievements to be stolen from them, like Corey Black has tried to do to me. But I’m hardly the only one targeted. CD continues to warp the minds of young wrestlers. He holds others down. He churns out average match after average match, loss after loss, but portrays himself without a care in the world. Like he’s bigger than those matches, those opponents, and the results don’t matter. But we’re the wrestlers. The results are the ONLY thing that matters. Corey Black has had a pass on this for far too long. You can’t lose in the motherfucking midcard and retain relevance. If a wrestler wants to respect CD and kiss the guy’s ass for what he did long ago, I know where you can find a time machine. You guys remember Johnny Reb’s Ranchero, right? People can go back to yesteryear and suck his dick for all I care. But today – right now – Corey Black is the most unexceptional, bland, and flaccid wrestler on the fuckin’ roster. He can’t hide or run from those facts. He exposes himself every time he wrestles. Everyone sees it, I’m just the guy saying it on camera.
Corey Black is a two-bit Flyjobber living off accomplishments accrued from longevity. He’s never been considered the most skilled or talented wrestler in the company – and that’s only gotten worse as they years have ticked on by. Even during his prime, it was always Logan, Torture, or Cairo who were considered the best. Then it was me. Corey Black has been a tier below the top guys his entire career, yet we’re supposed to believe he’s the greatest wrestler ever? Am I fucking stupid? Does that make any sense? I’ve beaten Corey Black three of four times. I’ve carried him to multiple tag titles. I won four World Titles in my first two years – and I defended them! He’s won six in 15 years and jobbed all of them out a month later. Black has never won Ultimate Showdown. He’s never won War. But he’s the greatest wrestler ever? That’s the logical reasoning of a mentally handicapped simpleton.
If some passable cashier works at motherfuckin’ Walmart for 15 years, does that make them the greatest employee in Walmart history? Just because they hung around? CD wants to fight this perception. He just doesn’t have a good argument. This is yet another thing that is solved in the ring with results. If you want to be known as the greatest wrestler ever, you present your case, month by month, year by year. Corey Black presented his case pre-2010 and then gave up. He relegated himself to a bit player. He skills eroded. His appearances became fluff matches against jobbers. His persona switched from a man hungry for the spotlight and accolades, to a guy content to share and/or steal them from others to stay relevant. As eras turned over and talent improved, he found that way to be much easier – and so it’s gone for the last seven years.
Hank who’s been sitting patiently through the rant decides to chime in.
Hank: …but you believe this match will be the end for him?
Fly: I do, Hank. Intelligence isn’t boasted about often in this industry. We’re more of the brute gladiator type who hit each other until the other falls. But let me remind people that ‘ending someone’ can be done multiple ways. I have a multi-pronged strategy to ruin Corey Black – to ensure that he is never the same person, and that he never wrestlers in another match after War. No spoilers. But that plan has already been put into action.
Hank: Are you saying that your plan is more than just beating him at War?
Fly: Read the tea leaves, Hank. In speaking of CD’s fate, I’ve used the phrase “destroyed physically, mentally, and emotionally.” You seem to only be concerned with the physical part of that statement. I’d encourage you, and everyone, to pay close attention. When this is all said and done, I want you to truly understand my power and my genius. By the time our match at War comes around, Corey Black will be alive and well. I wouldn’t miss the chance to punctuate my plan in the ring. But I assure you…he’ll wish he was dead. Now…
Fly holds up his arm and looks at his watch.
Fly: That’s all the time I have for you. You’re free to leave.
Hank: Oh, well, just one more…
Fly: Hank. No. I’ve said all I need to about Corey Black at this point. My words don’t need to carry the rest of the week. My actions will do that.
Fly winks and then rises from his seat.
Fly: I need to go change. By the time I come back, clean all this shit up and hit the road.
That’s the last comment Fly makes directly on camera. He walks toward the kitchen and ducks around behind the kitchen into his bedroom. Inside the bedroom there’s a set of closet double doors in the back-right corner. Fly walks toward those doors and opens them as if he was decompressing an accordion. As the doors move to the side, we’re left in shock on what we see in front of us.
Nikki Venus.
Corey Black’s female manager is standing with her hands tied above her head, onto the closet rod. There’s duct tape over her mouth and bruises across her face, likely from the initial struggle that preceded her capture and placement into Fly’s Penthouse. Venus begins to wiggle as she sees Fly. She attempts a kick in his direction, but Fly isn’t close enough for it to land. We hear sounds coming from her mouth, but they’re muted by the tape and indistinguishable. Fly laughs and quickly reaches into the closet and grabs a navy sportscoat. Venus attempts another kick at him, but Fly pulls away just in time.
Fly: Feisty girl. I’ve always liked that about you.
Fly pulls the sportscoat over his dress shirt and adjusts the sleeves to sit correctly. He asks to Nikki:
Fly: How do I look?
Nikki screams something that, once again, we can’t hear.
Fly: Alright babe, well I must hit the road. I don’t want to miss my flight to Europe. Hang out here for a bit, I’ll see you in a few days.
Pun intended. Fly flashes his trademark smirk as he gently closes the closet doors. He turns away and looks over toward the bed where a pre-packed duffel bag is sitting. He walks over and grabs the bag and exits the room. As he walks back out to the main living space of the penthouse he pauses for a moment to look around. Hank Brown and his camera are long-gone. Fly nods his head ever-so-slightly in approval, and then turns and walks toward the elevator. A long trip awaits.
…
Fly: Do you know what I love about your country?
Those words bring us into our next scene. It’s a day later, and Jonny Fly has flown across the Atlantic to Copenhagen. After touching down in the city, Fly was picked up by government limo and ushered away to Christiansborg Palace – home of the operating arm of the Denmark government. It’s a sight to see, to be sure. A wrestler from the United States holding serve in the Palace with Denmark’s Deputy Minister of Defense, Claus Hjort Frederiksen. But that’s where we’re at.
Specifically, our scene has begun in Claus’ office. Around the lobby of the palace is the Parliament Wing of the structure. This area is used by the country’s legislature bodies and includes various offices for leaders of Denmark’s administration – which includes Claus. The office is decorated in your normal statesmanlike flair. There’s various imagery of Denmark on the walls. A flag on a stand sits in the back of the room. A large polished wooden desk is the centerpiece of the space, which is where Claus is currently sitting. Across from him in a beige leather chair with wooden arms sits Jonny Fly. As shown by Fly’s opening statement, this meeting has already begun.
Claus: What would that be, Mister Fly? (do yourself a favor, say these lines with a Danish accent)
Fly: For the last decade countries across the world have been contracting their militaries. The recession did a number on defense budgets, did it not?
Claus: Yes. This country felt the brunt of that. But we prospered and prevailed.
Fly: …and dumped money back into your military?
Claus: Eventually, yes. We have reorganized our forces to be more operation ready.
Fly: Can I ask why?
Claus: There’s something to be said for the fight and spirit of a country when it is most weak. Our debt crisis was the worst in Europe. That vulnerability led to a reevaluation of our military strategy. Not only can our commitment to our forces stabilize our position, but perhaps we can be an asset to our EU neighbors who helped us in our time of crisis.
Fly: You want your country to be formidable. You don’t want to be a red line expense on the EU budget, with nothing to offer but debt and cookies. I get it.
Claus: I’m to understand, Mister Fly, that you have a business proposal to discuss today. I’m not sure what this conversation has to do with such proposal.
Fly: Well, I’m just trying to do my homework. You see, I need help with something from your forces. I’d like a few military vehicles and permission to do a – well, a military exercise in your country.
Claus sits silently and contemplates the previous statement. Eventually, he folds his hands in front of him and sets them on the desk. Leaning forward, he replies.
Claus: It is a curious request. I’m not sure why my people agreed to arrange this meeting. A citizen of the United States coming here to Denmark and asking permission to use our military equipment, such an action would not be permitted by this office. You can understand, yes?
Fly shakes his head ‘no.’
Fly: No, with all due respect. I can’t understand. You see, my goal is nothing more than to help you. To help you help me. On an unmarked island off the coast of Jutland there’s a piece of property that is historic land to this country. The property of the ancient castle now referred to as ‘The Dethfort.’ You are familiar with this, correct?
Claus: Of course. Site of one of our former operational battle forts that protected the coastline of this country.
Fly: Right. Now, it’s embarrassingly owned by another wrestler from the United States. I can only imagine you guys would like that property back. Considering the growth of your military, perhaps that old fort could be use? Unmarked location on the coast, high rock walls, fortified structure, perfect strategic hideaway – I could go on.
Claus: What are you getting at?
Fly: I can drive Corey Black off that property for you. Then your government can go back in and reclaim the land as its own.
Claus: I don’t understand how that involves us allowing you to use our forces.
Fly: Oh, that’s just for scare tactics. Corey Black is a stubborn little man. He’s going to need the proper motivation to abandon his beloved castle. That motivation would be the Denmark military blowing him away into the North Sea. I need to lead the mission because, well, surely you don’t want your hand to be dirtied by this plan. You need plausible deniability. Same for your men. As an outsider, I’m the perfect person to get this job done.
Claus: I can’t help but wonder what is your motivation for doing this?
Fly: Fair question. The truth is, back in the states I have some serious issues with this individual. I would welcome the opportunity to take The Dethfort away from him. That’s why I don’t mind jumping down into the snakepit for you, if you understand that reference. Look, all you need to understand is that this is a win-win for both of us. You’ll get your land and castle back. I’ll get to fuck Corey Black over. I just need your approval and some equipment to scare him away. What do you say?
Claus rubs his chin with his right hand, thinking through the proposal. It’s an interesting predicament for him. Denmark is one of the least corrupt governments in the world. But a chance to return a historic, and strategic, piece of land to the country without being implicated in the plot is a tempting offer.
Claus: What do you say to a tank?
Fly: One tank?
Claus: Just one. Old one, Cold War Era. We have bunker with tank 10 kilometers from castle. Very discrete. I will send word to the commander to expect your visit.
Fly: I suppose that will have to work.
Claus: Mister Fly. I must receive your word. My people will let you borrow tank, but we can be of no further assistance. The public must not know us to be involved. If caught, it will be deemed that you stole tank and you will be imprisoned and prosecuted in accordance with our laws. Are we clear?
Fly: You have my word.
Claus: One last thing.
Fly: Yes?
Claus: Absolutely no damage to castle. It’s important that we preserve it.
Fly nods his head agreeing with the statement.
Fly: I would never do such a thing. You can trust me.
There’s an unsettling glitter in Fly’s eyes as he says the last words. He gets up from his seat and extends his hand across the desk. Claus grasps the hand in return to cement their agreement. We fade to black.
