Post by Johnny Reb on Oct 22, 2011 11:49:01 GMT -5
A familiar set: black backdrop with the WCF logo splashed across it, and a pair of canvas director’s chairs. Simple. Generic. Hank Brown – dressed in a hideous brown-checkered suit and a wide orange tie – is seated in one, shuffling through a stack of note cards. In the other sits Johnny Reb; the World Title, draped across his chest, obscures most of his trademarked “Southern Discomfort” T-shirt.
At an unseen cue, Hank stops sorting the cards and offers the cameras a big, cheesy grin.
Hank: Hello and welcome, WCF fans! As always, I’m Hank Brown; and joining me today is none other than our own World Champion, and future Hall-of-Famer, Johnny Reb!
Canned applause sounds from somewhere offstage, while Johnny smiles placidly until the noise dies away.
Hank: So, let’s skip the pleasantries and get right into it. Johnny, things did not go exactly as planned last Monday night, did they?
Reb: They sure didn’t, Hank; but that’s kinda the nature of this business. Sometimes, no matter how well you prepare for a match… well, things happen. Everybody has an off day from time to time. That’s not to say I ain’t disappointed in how it all worked out, but in the bigger picture, it really don’t matter much.
Hank: Really? Even though you said – and I may be paraphrasing here – that last week’s match was a preview of what would come at Helloween?
The Inveterate Confederate shoots Hank an inscrutable look.
Reb: Maybe I was a little hasty when I said that. There’s a big difference: at Helloween, it’s just gonna be me an’ Mr. Balfore, one-on-one in that ring. A tag match utilizes a whole different strategy than a singles match. I’ll have only myself to rely on – my own wits, my own skill, even my own luck. No partner, no distraction. Just me an’ him – an’ this.
Johnny pats the title belt, smiling slightly.
Reb: An’ if Mr. Balfore thinks he’s gonna get this away from me, he’s got another think comin’. But that ain’t what we’re here to talk about today.
Hank: Right. This week, you’re teaming up with D-Day once again; this time to take on the “All-American Nightmare” Jake Keeton, and your mortal enemy, Doc Henry.
Johnny chuckles.
Reb: Mortal enemy. I like that, Hank. I reckon, when a guy tries to kill ya, it does kinda make him your archnemesis. Of course, since I came back, you’ll notice that ol’ Doc’s made himself real scarce. I dunno what that really says about him as my “mortal enemy,” as you put it. Exceptin’ that he’s scared. He done me wrong, tried to end my career, an’ he failed. Now I’m back, better’n ever, an’ he’s in hidin’. He don’t even dare show his face, ‘cept when he’s got him a match – an’ then he hightails it to the back afterward just so’s to be sure our paths don’t cross. I promise ya, Hank, ol’ Doc ain’t lookin’ forward to this li’l altercation – no matter what he may have to say to the contrary.
Now, this is gonna be the first time since my neck injury that I’ll be face to face with Mr. Henry. He’s been avoidin’ me all this time, hardly even darin’ to mention my name. That’s ‘cause he knows what’s comin’. I’ll tell ya this: win or lose, I’m gonna make damn sure ol’ Doc don’t leave that ring under his own power.
Hank: You’ll pardon me for saying this, Johnny, but… you’re walking a fine line when you start to talk like that.
Reb: Yeah? Since when are you the morality police, Hank? I been to the dark side, an’ I ain’t goin’ back. But there’s somethin’ to be said for vengeance. It’s a dirty word these days, in our modern an’ ostensibly peace-lovin’ society. An’ yet the selfsame people who decry the concept of revenge were probably the first to let out an almighty cheer when they got the news about Moammar Kaddafi.
Hank: Wait… are you comparing Doc Henry to a Libyan dictator who oppressed his people and committed countless atrocities for over forty years?
Reb: Um… Yes. Ok, so he ain’t been at it for four decades, but given the same amount of time… That’s not the point, Hank. You’re gettin' me sidetracked here. Point is… there’s very little difference between justice an’ revenge. It’s really just semantics. However ya wanna look at it, I’m gettin' my payback this Monday, one way or another.
Hank: Fair enough. You’ve spoken at great length about Doc Henry, but what about your other opponent, Jake Keeton?
Johnny hesitates, appearing to consider this.
Reb: Well, Hank, I’ve said time an’ again that I was lookin’ forward to another opportunity to square off with Jake Keeton. The last time me an’ him was in the ring, we pushed one another to our absolute limits – an’ I still came out on top. That was a while back, but I expect no less from him this time around. Now, I know, him an’ D-Day got a beef. I don’t plan on interferin’ with that none. What’s between them two is their business, an’ it’s up to them to work it out. Which ain’t to say that I ain’t gonna do my part. This is, after all, a tag team match – an’ as the cliché goes, there ain’t no “I” in “team.”
Hank nods, with all the appearance of listening attentively.
Hank: How important would you say this match is, in the grand scheme of things?
Reb: Hard to know until it happens, Hank. On the surface of it, this li’l competition ain’t much more than a warm-up before Helloween; somethin’ to keep us all on our toes. But the beauty of it is – anythin’ can happen. For all we know, Keeton an’ Doc might not even be able to cooperate for any appreciable length of time. They could turn on each other an’ completely ignore me an’ Day. That’s a pretty far-fetched notion: Mr. Keeton, at least, is professional enough not to be drawn into that sort of behavior. Can’t really say the same for Doc. All that aside, though, I don’t really foresee anythin’ of the sort happenin’. Chances are, this is just gonna be one damn entertainin’ match. Then again, even somethin’ innocuous can have far-reachin’ consequences, so who knows?
Hank: Ok, well… That’s about all the time we have for today. Thanks for joining us, Johnny!
Reb: Pleasure’s all mine.
Hank: And you at home, thanks for watching! For WCF, this is Hank Brown, signing off!
Credits roll as production assistants and stagehands emerge from offstage to free the two men of their button mics. As the credits end, the scene cuts to black.
At an unseen cue, Hank stops sorting the cards and offers the cameras a big, cheesy grin.
Hank: Hello and welcome, WCF fans! As always, I’m Hank Brown; and joining me today is none other than our own World Champion, and future Hall-of-Famer, Johnny Reb!
Canned applause sounds from somewhere offstage, while Johnny smiles placidly until the noise dies away.
Hank: So, let’s skip the pleasantries and get right into it. Johnny, things did not go exactly as planned last Monday night, did they?
Reb: They sure didn’t, Hank; but that’s kinda the nature of this business. Sometimes, no matter how well you prepare for a match… well, things happen. Everybody has an off day from time to time. That’s not to say I ain’t disappointed in how it all worked out, but in the bigger picture, it really don’t matter much.
Hank: Really? Even though you said – and I may be paraphrasing here – that last week’s match was a preview of what would come at Helloween?
The Inveterate Confederate shoots Hank an inscrutable look.
Reb: Maybe I was a little hasty when I said that. There’s a big difference: at Helloween, it’s just gonna be me an’ Mr. Balfore, one-on-one in that ring. A tag match utilizes a whole different strategy than a singles match. I’ll have only myself to rely on – my own wits, my own skill, even my own luck. No partner, no distraction. Just me an’ him – an’ this.
Johnny pats the title belt, smiling slightly.
Reb: An’ if Mr. Balfore thinks he’s gonna get this away from me, he’s got another think comin’. But that ain’t what we’re here to talk about today.
Hank: Right. This week, you’re teaming up with D-Day once again; this time to take on the “All-American Nightmare” Jake Keeton, and your mortal enemy, Doc Henry.
Johnny chuckles.
Reb: Mortal enemy. I like that, Hank. I reckon, when a guy tries to kill ya, it does kinda make him your archnemesis. Of course, since I came back, you’ll notice that ol’ Doc’s made himself real scarce. I dunno what that really says about him as my “mortal enemy,” as you put it. Exceptin’ that he’s scared. He done me wrong, tried to end my career, an’ he failed. Now I’m back, better’n ever, an’ he’s in hidin’. He don’t even dare show his face, ‘cept when he’s got him a match – an’ then he hightails it to the back afterward just so’s to be sure our paths don’t cross. I promise ya, Hank, ol’ Doc ain’t lookin’ forward to this li’l altercation – no matter what he may have to say to the contrary.
Now, this is gonna be the first time since my neck injury that I’ll be face to face with Mr. Henry. He’s been avoidin’ me all this time, hardly even darin’ to mention my name. That’s ‘cause he knows what’s comin’. I’ll tell ya this: win or lose, I’m gonna make damn sure ol’ Doc don’t leave that ring under his own power.
Hank: You’ll pardon me for saying this, Johnny, but… you’re walking a fine line when you start to talk like that.
Reb: Yeah? Since when are you the morality police, Hank? I been to the dark side, an’ I ain’t goin’ back. But there’s somethin’ to be said for vengeance. It’s a dirty word these days, in our modern an’ ostensibly peace-lovin’ society. An’ yet the selfsame people who decry the concept of revenge were probably the first to let out an almighty cheer when they got the news about Moammar Kaddafi.
Hank: Wait… are you comparing Doc Henry to a Libyan dictator who oppressed his people and committed countless atrocities for over forty years?
Reb: Um… Yes. Ok, so he ain’t been at it for four decades, but given the same amount of time… That’s not the point, Hank. You’re gettin' me sidetracked here. Point is… there’s very little difference between justice an’ revenge. It’s really just semantics. However ya wanna look at it, I’m gettin' my payback this Monday, one way or another.
Hank: Fair enough. You’ve spoken at great length about Doc Henry, but what about your other opponent, Jake Keeton?
Johnny hesitates, appearing to consider this.
Reb: Well, Hank, I’ve said time an’ again that I was lookin’ forward to another opportunity to square off with Jake Keeton. The last time me an’ him was in the ring, we pushed one another to our absolute limits – an’ I still came out on top. That was a while back, but I expect no less from him this time around. Now, I know, him an’ D-Day got a beef. I don’t plan on interferin’ with that none. What’s between them two is their business, an’ it’s up to them to work it out. Which ain’t to say that I ain’t gonna do my part. This is, after all, a tag team match – an’ as the cliché goes, there ain’t no “I” in “team.”
Hank nods, with all the appearance of listening attentively.
Hank: How important would you say this match is, in the grand scheme of things?
Reb: Hard to know until it happens, Hank. On the surface of it, this li’l competition ain’t much more than a warm-up before Helloween; somethin’ to keep us all on our toes. But the beauty of it is – anythin’ can happen. For all we know, Keeton an’ Doc might not even be able to cooperate for any appreciable length of time. They could turn on each other an’ completely ignore me an’ Day. That’s a pretty far-fetched notion: Mr. Keeton, at least, is professional enough not to be drawn into that sort of behavior. Can’t really say the same for Doc. All that aside, though, I don’t really foresee anythin’ of the sort happenin’. Chances are, this is just gonna be one damn entertainin’ match. Then again, even somethin’ innocuous can have far-reachin’ consequences, so who knows?
Hank: Ok, well… That’s about all the time we have for today. Thanks for joining us, Johnny!
Reb: Pleasure’s all mine.
Hank: And you at home, thanks for watching! For WCF, this is Hank Brown, signing off!
Credits roll as production assistants and stagehands emerge from offstage to free the two men of their button mics. As the credits end, the scene cuts to black.
