Post by Mr.Ego on Oct 29, 2016 19:14:38 GMT -5
The scene opens inside of Casa del Roberts, a frontal shot of three men. The UGWC World Heavyweight Champion, Travis Roberts is front and center in the shot; to his right is 'The Lord of Pain' Donovan Hastings; to his left is 'England's Greatest Export' Killian King. The eyes of all three men are focused on something in front of them.
Roberts: I simply cannot believe what I am witnessing. It is absolutely mind boggling to think something like that could happen in this day and age.
Hastings: No, what is mind boggling is the fact that he is here. In your home. When you know how I feel about the British bastard.
King: "Highly uncalled for, Donovan. Would you use such language in front of your children? Bloody hell, man… think of the children!"
Donovan rips his cape off and throws it down onto the floor.
Hastings: Dammit, I'm not waiting until after I win Battleground again. I'm kicking your ass right now!
King: "Such anger, Donovan. I feel right sorrowful for the Little Hastings', what with having a person such as yourself to look up to. No wonder they are in desperate need of a true, righteous role model in their lives."
Donovan attempts to get at Killian, as Killian continues smiling that shit-eating grin of his. Travis, stuck in the middle, finally has enough.
Roberts: That's more than enough, the both of you. Need I remind you of why we are all here right now? Need I remind you of what we are witnessing right now? You both are professionals, it's high time that you act like it.
Roberts looks at Donovan for a few moments, and then turns and does the same to Killian. The two men finally relent - Donovan with his anger, and Killian with his mockery.
King: "You are quite right, Travis. I do apologize for Donovan's behavior here today. As true friends of Alan, you and I both know that what we are witnessing will crush his very soul. I'm man enough to overlook Donovan's horrid parenting skills for the time being, so that we can focus on how to fix… this."
With that last word, Killian had pointed at something in front of them. Travis somberly shakes his head, as he once again looks back towards Donovan.
Roberts: And you… last night at Applebee's, you mentioned how difficult a thing it is to win Battleground. And while I liken the difficulty level of that task to that of beating the first Super Mario Brothers video game on the original Nintendo, can you focus that mindset on the task at hand? Because the issue before us is one that is unlike anything we have seen before. The three of us need to band together and come up with a plan to help Alan put his life back together again. Especially in light of that.
Hastings: I found the original Super Mario Brothers game to be quite challenging. I mean you only had two buttons, Travis. Two! How any of us were able to get through childhood back then is simply astounding. Almost as astounding as the total devastation I will bring down upon him…
King: "Richard bought a vintage video game system once. The Odyssey. I see your two buttons, and raise you a joystick and one button. That was challenging."
Hastings: Stop with your lies! At no time in history did Homer ever have time for video games. You shut your mouth when you're talking to me!
King: "Only because Marge was a ball-busting shrew of a lass, and those kids were incorrigible. Possibly due to not having a positive male role model in their lives. You know, the similarities are quite eerie. "
Hastings: You bastard, I'll kill you!
Roberts: Enough! Focus! On that!
Travis has pointed in front of him, and both Hastings and King look towards the 60-inch Vizio flat screen that hangs on the wall. And all three shudder at the sight.
The television shows an aerial view of total devastation in the streets. Thousands of people - the majority female, with a few quite feminine men littered amongst the sea of estrogen - clutter the streets. As dark black smoke rises from the numerous vehicles that are on fire, the news chopper begins maneuvering to the right, showcasing one of the grandest estates in the entire area. A voice is heard from the screen.
"We are in the third day of the madness that emanates from here in South Miami, just outside of lavish 'Wallace Estates'. In what started out as a few well-wishers showing up and leaving a litany of items in remembrance of this great house that suffered such horrific tragedy during Hurricane Matthew, it has since turned into a scene directly out of something you would see in the movies. Thousands of screaming women were soon converging on the entrance of 'Wallace Estates', and when the guards would not grant them entrance yesterday, things began to turn ugly. But what has transpired here today is simply obscene."
Roberts: Do the majority of them have to be in the nude?
King: "Alan would have it no other way."
Roberts: Yes, but it has been well-publicized that he is in Los Angeles. What do they hope to accomplish with this ridiculous display?
Hastings: I question why the guy they are showing now is naked. Nobody needs to see that.
King: "That sort of display is something that Alan is used to as well, sadly. Need I remind the two of you of one Martin Graber?"
Hastings: Well that guy is definitely going mainstream, isn't he?
King: "One of the few things that you have said of late that I actually agree with, Donovan."
The three men then grow quiet, as they once again turn their attention to what is occurring before them.
"Said one onlooker that we spoke to yesterday evening, this event originally began as a way for people to come together in solidarity, to show the world that they stand as one with Miami's favorite son, the professional wrestler known as 'Vain' Alan Wallace, during his time of need. As more people converged, however, people began to grow restless. Once the clothes began to come off, the talk soon turned to Vain's so-called 'harem', and which of the crowd members stood the best chance of being inducted into said 'harem' once Mr. Wallace returns home. And as that onlooker went on to say, once comparisons began to be made regarding the assets that these ladies have been endowed with, and what they felt Mr. Wallace might be looking for, that is what turned this gathering into the near riot that you see before you today."
Hastings: This is utterly ridiculous. It's as if none of those scandalous harlots realize one important fact… that Alan Wallace is just a man. A man that has never won Battleground, I might add.
Roberts: Imagine if that happened here. I mean, I've won it thrice.
Hastings: Yes, as you made mention last evening, Travis.
King: "Was that before Donny here went storming off upon my arrival?"
Roberts: Why yes, it was.
King: "So before the unfortunateness of what occurred at that establishment, then?"
Hastings: What unfortunateness? You ruining 'The Lord's' dinner plans?
Roberts: I wasn't sure that either you or Alan realized what was going on. The both of you seemed… oblivious to everything that was going on around you.
King: "What do you believe caused all the bloody ruckus to begin with, Travis? It all started when a beautiful brunette asked Alan and I for our numbers, and her equally as beautiful blonde friend took offense due to it being her idea to ask. The rest, as you Americans would say, is history."
Roberts: I was not aware of that.
King: "So as you can see, this sort of reaction has been known to happen before. As what is on the telly can obviously attest to."
Hastings: But… he's never even won Battleground!
The sound of a door is heard opening and then closing, and the three men all turn to see Alan Wallace appear from the hallway.
"Killian… Travis… Donovan."
King: "Alan."
Roberts: Alan.
Hastings: Alan.
"Yours Truly would like to apologize for his absence thus far today. I have been a terrible host, but it seems that Applebee's did not totally agree with me last night. You understand."
King: "I, for one, would never question your hosting abilities, Alan."
Roberts: His hosting abilities? In Casa del Roberts?
Hastings: Shouldn't we be asking how to best break the news of what is going on in Miami?
"What about Miami?"
The other three men sigh, and then step to the side, allowing Alan To walk up and look at the television. A look of horror begins to grow on his face, as the man in the chopper continues speaking.
"The National Guard arrived about an hour ago here at 'Wallace Estates', but even that has not deterred this rabid crowd of onlookers and well-wishers from growing more and more restless. Approximately fifteen vehicles have been set on fire now, and a chant of 'Alan… Alan… Alan' has begun. And… oh my God… there looks to have been a breach! There has been a breach, ladies and gentlemen. Somehow, someone has managed to breach the fence that runs along the South side of the property, and now the crowd is filing in by the dozens, completely trampling everything in its path!"
"My garden… 'The Garden de Vanity'… 'Vanity's Rhododendrons'!
Roberts: Alan… my God… look away. Look away from the utter carnage!
Hastings: A pitiful display, to be sure.
King: "They seem to be stopping, now."
"Ladies and gentlemen, this crowd seems to have stopped in their tracks for the moment, as the sheer brutality of what Hurricane Matthew did to this glorious estate begins to sink in. It seems as if everyone in attendance is now crying, as they set eyes on the complete and utter devastation that Matthew caused. And having seen it myself, it is not for the weak of stomach. Glenn… Linda… back to you guys."
Alan has collapsed to his knees, holding his face in his hands as he begins to sob. Killian walks over and grabs the remote, as the picture on the television switches.
==========================
The scene opens inside the study at Casa del Roberts. Vain is seated at the desk, busily tapping away on the laptop that sits in front of him. Travis Roberts walks in, taking a seat on the sofa, as he looks over at Alan.
Roberts: You're looking better today, Alan. Between the Applebee's reaction and the… unfortunateness on the news… yesterday was not one of your better ones, if you don't mind my saying.
Vain looks up from the laptop with a half-smile.
"Yes, yesterday was one that I would rather forget, but amidst all of the drudgery that is the current state of my humble abode, it also helped me realize that there is still a lot of work yet to do. Which is why Simon and I have been up most of the night."
Roberts: Do I even want to know, Alan?
"In times of extreme hardship, you always see celebrities band together for a good cause. Remember thirty years ago, when Michael Jackson, Lionel Richie, and a whole slew of others banded together for 'We Aare the World', to help raise money and awareness for the starving people of Africa? Or how about Haiti a few years back, when they were ravaged by the earthquake that killed over two-hundred thousand people? Well yesterday reminded me that not only is there work to be done, but it also made me realize that I have some of the most recognizable coworkers in the world today. What better group of people to come together to raise awareness for the dire circumstances which I find myself?"
Roberts: Are you looking to start a singing super group, Alan? Do not take this the wrong way, but I've heard you in the shower. I'd suggest letting someone else take lead.
"Heavens no. Vain is many things, but a singer is not one. Which is amazing, seeing as how my voice is that of an angel, but I digress… no, my thought was to hold a telethon. 'The Wallace Estates Relief Fund' telethon. But, obviously, that's not something that can just be thrown together last-minute. It takes planning."
Roberts: Of course.
"However, it's never too early to get together a few commercials to help promote the event. Which is where the entertainment professionals of UGWC come into play. And the best part is… the first promotional commercial is almost complete!"
Roberts: You mean to tell me that you already recorded some of our entertainment professionals, all while I was asleep a mere few rooms away… and the lot of you were able to get along well enough to not wake me from my slumber?
"Well, yes… in a sense."
Roberts: What does that even mean?
"I'm glad you asked, Travis. Come. See for yourself!"
Vain motions for Roberts to walk around and view the screen of the laptop. He clicks the mouse a couple of times, bringing the screen to life. The scene is set inside of the living room of Casa del Roberts. A man walks into view and takes a seat in the recliner. It's obviously Simon Wellington, though he is wearing a set of prosthetic ears, and has a mixed-emotion type look on his face.
"Good evening, I'm Jet Somers, and one of my coworkers is in dire need of assistance…"
Simon, obviously breaking from the script, looks to the right of the camera, speaking to someone that can't be seen.
"Come on, Alan. Is this even necessary? I look ridiculous. Nobody will think I'm actually Jet Somers."
"Dammit, Jet, can't you just… for once… think of someone other than yourself? My world has been shattered, Jet. Shattered! And yet it's all about you, isn't it? "
"Alan…"
"No, Jet. Just no. It's bad enough that you turned your back on all of UGWC, but this? This is unacceptable, and uncalled for! Good day!"
"But, Alan-"
"I said good day!"
The video on the screen flickers, and once it settles, shows Simon seated in front of the camera again, this time with a fake brown goatee half-hanging off his face.
"Good evening, I'm Austin Alexander-"
This time, the recording is interrupted by a voice from off camera.
"While I do appreciate the sentiment, these recordings are for actual entertainment professionals within UGWC. And while it is indeed tough work ensuring that all of us are fed each and every Syngery and each and every pay perview, 'The Vain One' does not believe that catering qualifies as being an 'entertainment professional'."
"But Alan, Austin Alexander is an entertainment pro-"
The screen flickers once more, this time settling on Simon Wellington in the recliner, a bottle of beer in hand. This time the voice off camera interrupts before Simon can even get started.
"I was sent a gag gift once. A DVD, as a matter of fact. 'Best of Dave Rydell'. Most riveting thirty-seven seconds of television I've ever watched, truly. I only wonder why it was only a montage of your entrances, though. Thanks for your time."
Vain closes the laptop, a big grin on his face as he turns and looks up at Travis Roberts. His smile begins to fade, as he shifts in his seat.
"I mean… it's not finished just yet. I'll need to do a few final touches and all, but that's typical."
Roberts: Of course.
"But to just begin to get the real story out, I think that is what matters most…"
Roberts: No, it's most certainly a tremendous idea, Alan. I'd expect nothing less, however, might I make a suggestion? If you don't mind?
"I think we are on good enough terms where you wouldn't need to ask that of me, Travis."
Roberts: Very well… Alan, get some sleep. You look like you could use it, and I'm sure the harem will help with… whatever they can to help you relax enough to finally get some shut eye.
Vain shakes his head as he rises to his feet, the two men making their way to the doorway. Vain walks through first, leaving Travis alone. He looks back towards the laptop, and then down the hall just as Vain disappears into his bedroom. Shaking his head, he proceeds towards his room as he mumbles one word.
Roberts: Jesus…
==========================
"I'm glad we have some time alone, because I have quite a bit I need to say to you, Alan."
Vain removes his sunglasses, looking up to see Simon standing over him. An audible sigh is heard, as Vain replaces his sunglasses.
"I thought I would get some peace and quiet once the girls went shopping. And yet, here you are, soaking up Vain's sun. And enough with the horrible attempt at disguising your accent, Simon. Travis isn't even here."
Simon walks over and takes a seat beside Vain.
"I just question if you have forgotten the task at hand, Alan. I understand that you feel you went through a… traumatic incident with the hurricane and whatnot, and I even halfway understand your wanting to stay here for a short time, because it's exactly something that I would have done in order to gain the confidence of someone that I want to dethrone. But the paintball excursions? The trips to Applebee's? The endless attempts to turn me into the running joke? I question where your head is at, Alan. I truly do."
"Please, Simon. I know exactly what I have in front of me. You don't need to remind me."
"Well pardon me for questioning your motivations, as of late. You most certainly haven't been acting like someone that wants the World title back. And you sure as hell haven't focused on the Battleground match that you are scheduled to be a part of in a couple days. You do realize you can't just sleepwalk through the competition, right?"
"Yes, Simon… I'm well aware."
"I don't think you do, Alan. You have the opportunity to go into that Battleground match, win in, and choose your opponent for Horizons. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I never would have imagined you shacking up with the very person that I had assumed you wanted to face for the chance to win back the title that you took such great pride in holding last year. I know losing it set you back, but to this? You act as if you don't have a care in the world, Alan, and it makes me wonder why you even signed up for the Battleground match in the first place."
Vain hurriedly sits up and turns in his seat, looking directly at Simon Wellington.
"Who in the hell are you to question me, Simon? Your biggest claim to fame in the wrestling industry was being retired by a drunken buffoon, who was acting at the behest of Brad Thomas. Sure, you were the Universal Champion for a short time, but nobody remembers that, Simon. They remember you being powerbombed on the concrete floor, and your career being ended. That's it. And you sit here and question my motivation… my resolve? How dare you?"
"Look Alan, I'm sorry if I offended y-"
"Shove your apology up your ass, 'Scholar'. I'm not a stupid man, regardless of what you may think of my recent actions. I know exactly what I am doing, but it will all be for nothing if I don't win Battleground. I get that, Simon… I know that. But I've been in Battleground before, in case you've forgotten. I know what it's going to take to come out victorious in that match, because I know that I have to give ten times as much as I did last time to come out on top. I'm sure you remember seeing what happened the last time. I thought I had the match in the bag… to the point where I got each of my opponents a special gift that was delivered during the show. And all if caused me was embarrassment. And at the end of the night, I watched as Travis emerged victorious. And kudos to him, because it wasn't an easy task. I know that now. I see that now. Quite clearly."
"Then what is the plan, Alan?"
"The plan is… that there is no plan. You can't plan for the amount of violence that occurs within that cell. You can't plan for the amount of punishment that you put your body through, just to have your hand raised at the end of the night. And you can't plan for what everyone else is going to throw at you during that match. I just have to be ready. For anything, and everything. That is my plan."
"Will that be enough?"
"Look at what I'm up against, Simon. A newcomer, whose attitude seems to mirror what mine was when I first joined Headstrong Wrestling… and whose ability might be further along than my own when I was a rookie. A man with renewed vigor, a new sense of purpose, and who longs to finally become the UGWC World Champion, and cement his legacy as a Grand Slam Champion. A man who has won this very match not once… not twice… but on three separate occasions. Three times, Simon. I shouldn't even have to explain to you how difficult a task that is. And both parts of what is arguably the greatest Cooperative team in wrestling history, outside of 'Sex and Violence', obviously. Each and every person in this match has what it takes to win the Battleground match, choose their match for Horizons, and headline the biggest show of the entire year."
"But will it be enough?"
"I ran roughshod over this entire company all last year, and this year, I've taken a step back… preferring to sit and watch. Sure, I added another Cooperative Title reign to my docket, but let's be honest, I've been a joke since I lost the World Title. And while some have been gracious enough to point that out to me on more than one occasion, the fact that I fail to even become a blip on the radar of others is absolutely mind-boggling to me. Almost as if I don't even matter to some of them. And it astounds me."
"Will it be enough, Alan?"
"It's time that I finally remind everyone just who Alan Wallace is. It's time I put the entire company on notice, just as I did last year. And if that means going into that cell and leaving it all on the line, and coming out merely a shell of my former self, then so fucking be it. Because 'Vain' Alan Wallace has to come out victorious in this match, Simon. I need to."
"But will your plan be enough, Alan?"
"It has to be, Simon. It has to be."
FIN
Roberts: I simply cannot believe what I am witnessing. It is absolutely mind boggling to think something like that could happen in this day and age.
Hastings: No, what is mind boggling is the fact that he is here. In your home. When you know how I feel about the British bastard.
King: "Highly uncalled for, Donovan. Would you use such language in front of your children? Bloody hell, man… think of the children!"
Donovan rips his cape off and throws it down onto the floor.
Hastings: Dammit, I'm not waiting until after I win Battleground again. I'm kicking your ass right now!
King: "Such anger, Donovan. I feel right sorrowful for the Little Hastings', what with having a person such as yourself to look up to. No wonder they are in desperate need of a true, righteous role model in their lives."
Donovan attempts to get at Killian, as Killian continues smiling that shit-eating grin of his. Travis, stuck in the middle, finally has enough.
Roberts: That's more than enough, the both of you. Need I remind you of why we are all here right now? Need I remind you of what we are witnessing right now? You both are professionals, it's high time that you act like it.
Roberts looks at Donovan for a few moments, and then turns and does the same to Killian. The two men finally relent - Donovan with his anger, and Killian with his mockery.
King: "You are quite right, Travis. I do apologize for Donovan's behavior here today. As true friends of Alan, you and I both know that what we are witnessing will crush his very soul. I'm man enough to overlook Donovan's horrid parenting skills for the time being, so that we can focus on how to fix… this."
With that last word, Killian had pointed at something in front of them. Travis somberly shakes his head, as he once again looks back towards Donovan.
Roberts: And you… last night at Applebee's, you mentioned how difficult a thing it is to win Battleground. And while I liken the difficulty level of that task to that of beating the first Super Mario Brothers video game on the original Nintendo, can you focus that mindset on the task at hand? Because the issue before us is one that is unlike anything we have seen before. The three of us need to band together and come up with a plan to help Alan put his life back together again. Especially in light of that.
Hastings: I found the original Super Mario Brothers game to be quite challenging. I mean you only had two buttons, Travis. Two! How any of us were able to get through childhood back then is simply astounding. Almost as astounding as the total devastation I will bring down upon him…
King: "Richard bought a vintage video game system once. The Odyssey. I see your two buttons, and raise you a joystick and one button. That was challenging."
Hastings: Stop with your lies! At no time in history did Homer ever have time for video games. You shut your mouth when you're talking to me!
King: "Only because Marge was a ball-busting shrew of a lass, and those kids were incorrigible. Possibly due to not having a positive male role model in their lives. You know, the similarities are quite eerie. "
Hastings: You bastard, I'll kill you!
Roberts: Enough! Focus! On that!
Travis has pointed in front of him, and both Hastings and King look towards the 60-inch Vizio flat screen that hangs on the wall. And all three shudder at the sight.
The television shows an aerial view of total devastation in the streets. Thousands of people - the majority female, with a few quite feminine men littered amongst the sea of estrogen - clutter the streets. As dark black smoke rises from the numerous vehicles that are on fire, the news chopper begins maneuvering to the right, showcasing one of the grandest estates in the entire area. A voice is heard from the screen.
"We are in the third day of the madness that emanates from here in South Miami, just outside of lavish 'Wallace Estates'. In what started out as a few well-wishers showing up and leaving a litany of items in remembrance of this great house that suffered such horrific tragedy during Hurricane Matthew, it has since turned into a scene directly out of something you would see in the movies. Thousands of screaming women were soon converging on the entrance of 'Wallace Estates', and when the guards would not grant them entrance yesterday, things began to turn ugly. But what has transpired here today is simply obscene."
Roberts: Do the majority of them have to be in the nude?
King: "Alan would have it no other way."
Roberts: Yes, but it has been well-publicized that he is in Los Angeles. What do they hope to accomplish with this ridiculous display?
Hastings: I question why the guy they are showing now is naked. Nobody needs to see that.
King: "That sort of display is something that Alan is used to as well, sadly. Need I remind the two of you of one Martin Graber?"
Hastings: Well that guy is definitely going mainstream, isn't he?
King: "One of the few things that you have said of late that I actually agree with, Donovan."
The three men then grow quiet, as they once again turn their attention to what is occurring before them.
"Said one onlooker that we spoke to yesterday evening, this event originally began as a way for people to come together in solidarity, to show the world that they stand as one with Miami's favorite son, the professional wrestler known as 'Vain' Alan Wallace, during his time of need. As more people converged, however, people began to grow restless. Once the clothes began to come off, the talk soon turned to Vain's so-called 'harem', and which of the crowd members stood the best chance of being inducted into said 'harem' once Mr. Wallace returns home. And as that onlooker went on to say, once comparisons began to be made regarding the assets that these ladies have been endowed with, and what they felt Mr. Wallace might be looking for, that is what turned this gathering into the near riot that you see before you today."
Hastings: This is utterly ridiculous. It's as if none of those scandalous harlots realize one important fact… that Alan Wallace is just a man. A man that has never won Battleground, I might add.
Roberts: Imagine if that happened here. I mean, I've won it thrice.
Hastings: Yes, as you made mention last evening, Travis.
King: "Was that before Donny here went storming off upon my arrival?"
Roberts: Why yes, it was.
King: "So before the unfortunateness of what occurred at that establishment, then?"
Hastings: What unfortunateness? You ruining 'The Lord's' dinner plans?
Roberts: I wasn't sure that either you or Alan realized what was going on. The both of you seemed… oblivious to everything that was going on around you.
King: "What do you believe caused all the bloody ruckus to begin with, Travis? It all started when a beautiful brunette asked Alan and I for our numbers, and her equally as beautiful blonde friend took offense due to it being her idea to ask. The rest, as you Americans would say, is history."
Roberts: I was not aware of that.
King: "So as you can see, this sort of reaction has been known to happen before. As what is on the telly can obviously attest to."
Hastings: But… he's never even won Battleground!
The sound of a door is heard opening and then closing, and the three men all turn to see Alan Wallace appear from the hallway.
"Killian… Travis… Donovan."
King: "Alan."
Roberts: Alan.
Hastings: Alan.
"Yours Truly would like to apologize for his absence thus far today. I have been a terrible host, but it seems that Applebee's did not totally agree with me last night. You understand."
King: "I, for one, would never question your hosting abilities, Alan."
Roberts: His hosting abilities? In Casa del Roberts?
Hastings: Shouldn't we be asking how to best break the news of what is going on in Miami?
"What about Miami?"
The other three men sigh, and then step to the side, allowing Alan To walk up and look at the television. A look of horror begins to grow on his face, as the man in the chopper continues speaking.
"The National Guard arrived about an hour ago here at 'Wallace Estates', but even that has not deterred this rabid crowd of onlookers and well-wishers from growing more and more restless. Approximately fifteen vehicles have been set on fire now, and a chant of 'Alan… Alan… Alan' has begun. And… oh my God… there looks to have been a breach! There has been a breach, ladies and gentlemen. Somehow, someone has managed to breach the fence that runs along the South side of the property, and now the crowd is filing in by the dozens, completely trampling everything in its path!"
"My garden… 'The Garden de Vanity'… 'Vanity's Rhododendrons'!
Roberts: Alan… my God… look away. Look away from the utter carnage!
Hastings: A pitiful display, to be sure.
King: "They seem to be stopping, now."
"Ladies and gentlemen, this crowd seems to have stopped in their tracks for the moment, as the sheer brutality of what Hurricane Matthew did to this glorious estate begins to sink in. It seems as if everyone in attendance is now crying, as they set eyes on the complete and utter devastation that Matthew caused. And having seen it myself, it is not for the weak of stomach. Glenn… Linda… back to you guys."
Alan has collapsed to his knees, holding his face in his hands as he begins to sob. Killian walks over and grabs the remote, as the picture on the television switches.
Never Forget
==========================
The scene opens inside the study at Casa del Roberts. Vain is seated at the desk, busily tapping away on the laptop that sits in front of him. Travis Roberts walks in, taking a seat on the sofa, as he looks over at Alan.
Roberts: You're looking better today, Alan. Between the Applebee's reaction and the… unfortunateness on the news… yesterday was not one of your better ones, if you don't mind my saying.
Vain looks up from the laptop with a half-smile.
"Yes, yesterday was one that I would rather forget, but amidst all of the drudgery that is the current state of my humble abode, it also helped me realize that there is still a lot of work yet to do. Which is why Simon and I have been up most of the night."
Roberts: Do I even want to know, Alan?
"In times of extreme hardship, you always see celebrities band together for a good cause. Remember thirty years ago, when Michael Jackson, Lionel Richie, and a whole slew of others banded together for 'We Aare the World', to help raise money and awareness for the starving people of Africa? Or how about Haiti a few years back, when they were ravaged by the earthquake that killed over two-hundred thousand people? Well yesterday reminded me that not only is there work to be done, but it also made me realize that I have some of the most recognizable coworkers in the world today. What better group of people to come together to raise awareness for the dire circumstances which I find myself?"
Roberts: Are you looking to start a singing super group, Alan? Do not take this the wrong way, but I've heard you in the shower. I'd suggest letting someone else take lead.
"Heavens no. Vain is many things, but a singer is not one. Which is amazing, seeing as how my voice is that of an angel, but I digress… no, my thought was to hold a telethon. 'The Wallace Estates Relief Fund' telethon. But, obviously, that's not something that can just be thrown together last-minute. It takes planning."
Roberts: Of course.
"However, it's never too early to get together a few commercials to help promote the event. Which is where the entertainment professionals of UGWC come into play. And the best part is… the first promotional commercial is almost complete!"
Roberts: You mean to tell me that you already recorded some of our entertainment professionals, all while I was asleep a mere few rooms away… and the lot of you were able to get along well enough to not wake me from my slumber?
"Well, yes… in a sense."
Roberts: What does that even mean?
"I'm glad you asked, Travis. Come. See for yourself!"
Vain motions for Roberts to walk around and view the screen of the laptop. He clicks the mouse a couple of times, bringing the screen to life. The scene is set inside of the living room of Casa del Roberts. A man walks into view and takes a seat in the recliner. It's obviously Simon Wellington, though he is wearing a set of prosthetic ears, and has a mixed-emotion type look on his face.
"Good evening, I'm Jet Somers, and one of my coworkers is in dire need of assistance…"
Simon, obviously breaking from the script, looks to the right of the camera, speaking to someone that can't be seen.
"Come on, Alan. Is this even necessary? I look ridiculous. Nobody will think I'm actually Jet Somers."
"Dammit, Jet, can't you just… for once… think of someone other than yourself? My world has been shattered, Jet. Shattered! And yet it's all about you, isn't it? "
"Alan…"
"No, Jet. Just no. It's bad enough that you turned your back on all of UGWC, but this? This is unacceptable, and uncalled for! Good day!"
"But, Alan-"
"I said good day!"
The video on the screen flickers, and once it settles, shows Simon seated in front of the camera again, this time with a fake brown goatee half-hanging off his face.
"Good evening, I'm Austin Alexander-"
This time, the recording is interrupted by a voice from off camera.
"While I do appreciate the sentiment, these recordings are for actual entertainment professionals within UGWC. And while it is indeed tough work ensuring that all of us are fed each and every Syngery and each and every pay perview, 'The Vain One' does not believe that catering qualifies as being an 'entertainment professional'."
"But Alan, Austin Alexander is an entertainment pro-"
The screen flickers once more, this time settling on Simon Wellington in the recliner, a bottle of beer in hand. This time the voice off camera interrupts before Simon can even get started.
"I was sent a gag gift once. A DVD, as a matter of fact. 'Best of Dave Rydell'. Most riveting thirty-seven seconds of television I've ever watched, truly. I only wonder why it was only a montage of your entrances, though. Thanks for your time."
Vain closes the laptop, a big grin on his face as he turns and looks up at Travis Roberts. His smile begins to fade, as he shifts in his seat.
"I mean… it's not finished just yet. I'll need to do a few final touches and all, but that's typical."
Roberts: Of course.
"But to just begin to get the real story out, I think that is what matters most…"
Roberts: No, it's most certainly a tremendous idea, Alan. I'd expect nothing less, however, might I make a suggestion? If you don't mind?
"I think we are on good enough terms where you wouldn't need to ask that of me, Travis."
Roberts: Very well… Alan, get some sleep. You look like you could use it, and I'm sure the harem will help with… whatever they can to help you relax enough to finally get some shut eye.
Vain shakes his head as he rises to his feet, the two men making their way to the doorway. Vain walks through first, leaving Travis alone. He looks back towards the laptop, and then down the hall just as Vain disappears into his bedroom. Shaking his head, he proceeds towards his room as he mumbles one word.
Roberts: Jesus…
==========================
"I'm glad we have some time alone, because I have quite a bit I need to say to you, Alan."
Vain removes his sunglasses, looking up to see Simon standing over him. An audible sigh is heard, as Vain replaces his sunglasses.
"I thought I would get some peace and quiet once the girls went shopping. And yet, here you are, soaking up Vain's sun. And enough with the horrible attempt at disguising your accent, Simon. Travis isn't even here."
Simon walks over and takes a seat beside Vain.
"I just question if you have forgotten the task at hand, Alan. I understand that you feel you went through a… traumatic incident with the hurricane and whatnot, and I even halfway understand your wanting to stay here for a short time, because it's exactly something that I would have done in order to gain the confidence of someone that I want to dethrone. But the paintball excursions? The trips to Applebee's? The endless attempts to turn me into the running joke? I question where your head is at, Alan. I truly do."
"Please, Simon. I know exactly what I have in front of me. You don't need to remind me."
"Well pardon me for questioning your motivations, as of late. You most certainly haven't been acting like someone that wants the World title back. And you sure as hell haven't focused on the Battleground match that you are scheduled to be a part of in a couple days. You do realize you can't just sleepwalk through the competition, right?"
"Yes, Simon… I'm well aware."
"I don't think you do, Alan. You have the opportunity to go into that Battleground match, win in, and choose your opponent for Horizons. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I never would have imagined you shacking up with the very person that I had assumed you wanted to face for the chance to win back the title that you took such great pride in holding last year. I know losing it set you back, but to this? You act as if you don't have a care in the world, Alan, and it makes me wonder why you even signed up for the Battleground match in the first place."
Vain hurriedly sits up and turns in his seat, looking directly at Simon Wellington.
"Who in the hell are you to question me, Simon? Your biggest claim to fame in the wrestling industry was being retired by a drunken buffoon, who was acting at the behest of Brad Thomas. Sure, you were the Universal Champion for a short time, but nobody remembers that, Simon. They remember you being powerbombed on the concrete floor, and your career being ended. That's it. And you sit here and question my motivation… my resolve? How dare you?"
"Look Alan, I'm sorry if I offended y-"
"Shove your apology up your ass, 'Scholar'. I'm not a stupid man, regardless of what you may think of my recent actions. I know exactly what I am doing, but it will all be for nothing if I don't win Battleground. I get that, Simon… I know that. But I've been in Battleground before, in case you've forgotten. I know what it's going to take to come out victorious in that match, because I know that I have to give ten times as much as I did last time to come out on top. I'm sure you remember seeing what happened the last time. I thought I had the match in the bag… to the point where I got each of my opponents a special gift that was delivered during the show. And all if caused me was embarrassment. And at the end of the night, I watched as Travis emerged victorious. And kudos to him, because it wasn't an easy task. I know that now. I see that now. Quite clearly."
"Then what is the plan, Alan?"
"The plan is… that there is no plan. You can't plan for the amount of violence that occurs within that cell. You can't plan for the amount of punishment that you put your body through, just to have your hand raised at the end of the night. And you can't plan for what everyone else is going to throw at you during that match. I just have to be ready. For anything, and everything. That is my plan."
"Will that be enough?"
"Look at what I'm up against, Simon. A newcomer, whose attitude seems to mirror what mine was when I first joined Headstrong Wrestling… and whose ability might be further along than my own when I was a rookie. A man with renewed vigor, a new sense of purpose, and who longs to finally become the UGWC World Champion, and cement his legacy as a Grand Slam Champion. A man who has won this very match not once… not twice… but on three separate occasions. Three times, Simon. I shouldn't even have to explain to you how difficult a task that is. And both parts of what is arguably the greatest Cooperative team in wrestling history, outside of 'Sex and Violence', obviously. Each and every person in this match has what it takes to win the Battleground match, choose their match for Horizons, and headline the biggest show of the entire year."
"But will it be enough?"
"I ran roughshod over this entire company all last year, and this year, I've taken a step back… preferring to sit and watch. Sure, I added another Cooperative Title reign to my docket, but let's be honest, I've been a joke since I lost the World Title. And while some have been gracious enough to point that out to me on more than one occasion, the fact that I fail to even become a blip on the radar of others is absolutely mind-boggling to me. Almost as if I don't even matter to some of them. And it astounds me."
"Will it be enough, Alan?"
"It's time that I finally remind everyone just who Alan Wallace is. It's time I put the entire company on notice, just as I did last year. And if that means going into that cell and leaving it all on the line, and coming out merely a shell of my former self, then so fucking be it. Because 'Vain' Alan Wallace has to come out victorious in this match, Simon. I need to."
"But will your plan be enough, Alan?"
"It has to be, Simon. It has to be."
FIN