Post by Centurion on Oct 22, 2021 11:57:35 GMT -5
This wasn't Chicago.
This wasn't the flashing lights of Vegas, or the glitz and glam of Los Angeles, or even the rough and tumble streets of New York. No, this was Wayne County, Pennsylvania…
...and it smelled like shit.
And yet, there is where we find the normally dapper, upper class Centurion. He has traded in his suit for a pair of khakis and a t-shirt. Next to him on one side is his daughter and now manager, Nellie, who is wearing a sundress despite the October weather. Walking behind them are Ruby, in a Bears t-shirt and jeans, and Nellie's fiance Erin, who still looks like she's dressed to go to a fancy dinner despite the surroundings.
It is the Wayne County Fair, one of the last county fairs in the country, and among the most rural. On one side of the fairgrounds is a grandstand sort of area, which surrounds a pit. Currently, there is a variety of people - from younger white dudes to middle aged white dudes - unloading painted, beat up cars near the pit area in preparation of the Demolition Derby, the main attraction of the fair every year.
All the way on the other side of the fairgrounds are the barns, where farmers have brought their livestock to be graded on some sort of scale that only makes sense to country folk. Despite the fact that pretty much all cows, sheep, chicken, etc look alike, the barns are packed with people gawking at the animals.
Somewhere between these two points of interest is where our protagonists are walking.
The four of them are supposed to be on their way to Greece for a vacation, but it was Centurion's idea to stop here along the way. He has yet to explain to the ladies why, but whatever the purpose is, it appears to be secondary to his current task, which is to eat the fair food he has in his hands. In his left hand is a drinking inside of a styrofoam cup - by the looks of it, it appears to be a chocolate milkshake. In his right hand, he holds an Italian sausage sandwich, which he is currently biting into.
Ruby is also indulging on the fair food scene, as she has a half eaten funnel cake on a paper plate in her hand. The other two, however, look utterly disgusted by witnessing the Snackoplypse that is taking place in front of them.
"Gross" Nellie says without the slightest bit of hesitation. "Do you have any idea what has been cooked on those surfaces before? Hell, how do you even know what's IN that? They could have just put diced up rat into a tube and called it a sausage."
Centurion lets out a hmm as he takes a big sip of his milkshake. "Well, if that's the case, it's the best rat I've ever tasted. You live in Wildwood" Centurion says with a level of confusion. "Isn't most of the food on the boardwalk like fair food?"
"I'm not a tourist" Nellie says matter of factly. "I'm not stopping by the boardwalk for dinner. If I'm going to go out to eat, I generally like to go somewhere that's been...you know, inspected? By a health inspector."
"Pa-shaw" Centurion lets out a dismissive sound as he waves his sandwich in Nellie's general direction. "I used to eat this food all the time when I was going to school in Erie. Never gave me any issues."
"I think you're the exception, not the rule." Nellie says as she glances back over to Centurion. "Besides, all that greasy, terrible food might have given you brain worms. Which would explain why you are the way you are."
"Careful" Centurion exclaims as he points at Nellie. "I could just as easily leave your ass here."
"Please don't." Erin speaks up in the most pathetic voice possible.
"You're still invited." Centurion is quick to response, eliciting a "yay!" and a smile out of his future daughter-in-law. Centurion finishes the rest of his sandwich as Nellie shakes her head, resigning herself to the fact that her father is a weirdo and will remain to be as such.
"So" Nellie says, changing the topic of conversation. "I'm assuming we didn't come here to eat terrible food. You could have done that in Corfu. And my guess is you're not here to buy a cow, or any…"
Nellie stops talking as she looks over to her left side, past Centurion, to see a t-shirt and flag vendor. The shirts are all poorly made, as you would expect, and there are also tons of Trump shirts and flags, typical of what you would see in a rural area. Nellie feels the bile coming up in her stomach as she just scoffs in disgust.
"...Trump memorabilia."
"You assume a lot if you don't think I would fly all the way to some podunk town to get some delicious fair food." Centurion responds, completely unphased by the conservative merchandise they pass by. "But you're right. I'm here because I wanted to prepare for my match next week."
"Prepare?" Nellie curiously replies. "How exactly is this place going to prepare you for a wrestling match? Is there some sort of "catch the chicken" contest going on or something?"
"Nope!" Centurion says excitedly. "But if there was, I'd dominate! No, I'm talking about...that!"
Centurion points ahead of himself, and the three ladies of the group all turn their heads to see what he is referring to, which is a haunted house.
Actually, that's giving it too much credit. The "haunted house" is nothing more than small fairground truck with some decorations attached to it. The structure looks like it's from the 60's, and it hasn't has any updates since then. There is a large plastic black bat that extends from one side of the "house" to the other, with two sets of curtains - one to walk in and one to walk out - on either side. The words "Enter If You Dare!" are painted on, but the "E" at the end of "Dare" is quickly fading.
Nellie looks back at Centurion and raises an eyebrow, very clearly confused as to why this tiny attraction meant for kids is so important.
"Alright…" Nellie starts as she rubs the inside of her eyes nearest her nose. "I'm really curious as to what this has to do with your match."
"It's simple, really." Centurion says in a quick, matter of fact tone. "I'm facing Ragdoll next week. She's like...a budget horror movie villain, so I figured I'd walk through one of these to prepare myself for the horrors I am expected to face next week."
"Look" Nellie quickly interjects. "I don't want to be the one who gives Ragdoll any credit, but I think there's a lot more to her than just simply being a "budget horror movie villain." Besides, even if that was true, these haunted houses are for children."
"Exactly." Centurion says, causing Nellie to look even more confused. "Children get scared by this kind of stuff. Children get scared of weird clowns with knives. So I want to put myself in that position. What is it like to be face to face with something considered scary to some, but completely tame to others."
"We could have just gotten a snake." Erin speaks up from behind. "Snakes are scary to a lot of people, even though they're mostly cuddle bugs."
"Yes, but snakes don't come with awesome fair food." Centurion says with a smile. "Now let's go."
Centurion leads the pack up to the haunted house, where a young man, probably no older than 19, stands at the entrance of the attraction.
"Hello, and welcome to the haunted house" the man says in almost a lifeless tone. "Can I have your tickets please?"
"We don't have any tickets." Centurion responds.
"I'm sorry" the guys responds, still with his tone that clearly says he'd rather be anywhere else. "But you need to buy tickets to go on the rides and see the attractions."
"I'll give you a hundred bucks." Centurion says before quickly and effortlessly reaching into his pocket and pulling out a hundred dollar bill. The young man, without any hesitation, takes the money and points to the entrance.
"Enjoy."
Centurion steps up the clunky metal steps first, followed by Nellie, Erin, and Ruby, and the three step through the curtain and into the haunted house.
The haunted house is dark, with the sound of thunder and wind playing at a higher volume than necessary through some old speakers. The place is set up very simply - one path that goes back and forth through the structure, then back out near the way you came in. The four of them walk around one corner and immediately see a skeleton, which lights up as soon as they walk close to it. It's unclear if it is supposed to be scary, as the skeleton is nothing more than plastic, and the light is a standard spotlight you get in a retail store.
"Riveting" Erin says sarcastically as she looks at the skeleton.
"This is stupid." Nellie says in disappointment.
Centurion ignores the pleas of his companions and continues down the hallway. They make a turn to another hallway, and the sound of Vincent Price's laughter from "Thriller" plays through a CD player.
"Oh, come on!" Nellie yells out. "That's just lazy!"
"That got someone, I'm sure." Centurion says in response. He continues to walk forward and rounds a corner to another hallway. As he does, a spotlight turns on and shines on a plastic werewolf. A fake howl plays through the speakers, but the four of them don't have a single reaction. Finally, out of instinct, Centurion punches the werewolf in the head, causing the head to snap off and fall behind the body, leaving jagged plastic pieces where the neck was. Ruby covers her mouth as Nellie turns and looks angrily at Centurion, but Erin tilts her head to the side and examines the werewolf.
"I think it looks better now." Erin says without a hint of sarcasm.
"You feel better?" Nellie says angrily at Centurion.
"Yeah. I have a lot of clarity now." Centurion says as he exhales. "I know what to do when Ragdoll starts to get really spooky and weird. I just punch her...really hard...in the head. I'm glad I came here."
Centurion shakes his hand as he turns and walks towards the exit. Ruby quickly follows him out, leaving Erin and Nellie behind. Erin, who remains impressed at Centurion's handiwork, just smiles as she runs her fingers over the jagged plastic pieces. Nellie, meanwhile, is a combination of pissed off and confused, and has a look of pure exasperation. "I...uh...I…" Nellie is as a complete loss of words, though even if she had something to say in response, Centurion was already long gone. Finally, after a few seconds, Nellie slumped her head down in defeat.
"I'm going to kill him. I swear, I'm going to kill him."
------I See Things That Nobody Else Sees------
The blackness quickly fades as the camera comes back to life. We now see the outside of a house, as if it is the beginning of a sitcom, though the house is transparent. Inside, there are various family members doing various tasks – a mother in the kitchen, cleaning dishes; a father in the den reading a newspaper; a young boy sitting in the living room playing a video game, and a young girl in a bedroom on her telephone – except, they are not moving. The people are completely still inside the house. The familiar voice of Centurion, acting almost as a narrator, is heard from behind the camera.
“There’s something very interesting about cliches. They make us feel comfortable, don’t they? There is a reason why we keep going back to them. There is a reason why they exist. It’s because we need a security blanket to wrap ourselves in when we feel like the world is getting dangerous and weird.
Do you know any house that looks like this anymore? When was the last time you walked into a home and you saw this 1950’s looking set up? Since you’re watching a professional wrestling promo right now, I’m going to assume you were born after 1980, and therefore I’m going to say you likely never saw it. And yet, when we watch television shows, they still revert back to this. Why? It’s fake.”
The voice of Centurion gets louder as the sound of dress shoes hitting hard wood is heard. In front of the camera steps Centurion, but only his shoes and lower legs are visible. The camera pans further out, and as it does, it is revealed that the transparent house is actually rather tiny, and all the people inside the home are just figurines.
“That’s the fun thing about sitcoms. About playing pretend. About...well, dollhouses. They can be anything we want to them to be. They could be the perfect family with the perfect house, perfect life. They could also be...”
Centurion walks away from the dollhouse. As he does, the lights begin to brighten, and we see where Centurion is standing – he is in some sort of ballroom, with multiple dollhouses scattered all throughout. Centurion is wearing his trademark suit and hat, and he is walking with a golf club in his right hand. He stops in front of another dollhouse, and the camera zooms back in. This house has a man clad in a robe and sunglasses, surrounded by piles of fake money, with women in bikinis on either side of him.
“The perfect fantasy. Make yourself the center of everyone’s admiration. Give yourself the life you always wanted to live. You don’t have to be lonely anymore – not when you create a dollhouse where everyone desires to be with you. Or perhaps your perfect life is something a bit more...stylish.”
The camera pulls out and Centurion walks away and up to a third house. The camera zooms back in, and this house is your typical “Malibu Barbie” style house – an open floor plan with multiple rooms, all filled with lavish items. The doll is a young woman sitting at a pink vanity with a cell phone in one hand and makeup in the other hand.
“Maybe you desire to be famous. Maybe the life you wish to live is that of an idol. Your name in lights. Your face on billboards. Millions of screaming fans everywhere you turn. Maybe you want to not just be an individual, but an entire brand. In the dollhouse, you can be the most famous person in the world. In the dollhouse, everyone has to listen to you.”
The camera zooms back out again, and Centurion slowly walks away from that dollhouse and to a new one. This one is a lot darker than the others – the house itself is black, and the inside is filled with scenes from a horror movie. There are fake entrails all over the place, with decapitated heads in various rooms of the house. In the middle stands a doll, with multicolor hair and face paint, holding a knife and sporting a massive smile.
“Or...perhaps your fantasy is much darker. Perhaps you always wanted to see the pain and horror in the eyes of other human beings, but never had the ability to inflict that kind of pain on others. Perhaps your desire is to be feared by others. Real life has its limitations, but in the dollhouse, you can create that lair of fear that you so wish to create. You can kill everyone, maim everyone, make everyone think you are the Devil themselves, and you can sit back and laugh, and enjoy your creation, but when the day is over...you’ll still have the same realization everyone else has.”
The camera pulls back out, so that Centurion is now in full view, as are the multitude of other dollhouses in the room.
“Whether you create a fantasy life of fear, or of fame, or of money and admiration, or of just a simple life with a simple family, at some point, you’re going to have to stop playing with the dollhouses. You’re going to need to put your toys down, go to sleep, and wake back up to face the world – the real world – and all of the joys and pain that come with it. And therein lies the real problem with dollhouses...they’re fake.”
Centurion takes his golf club and smashes the gothic, gory house into pieces. He takes one giant swing and plastic pieces go flying everywhere, including the doll that was inside, before lifting the club and smashing down on whatever remains standing. Centurion places his foot on the foundation of what remains before looking back into the camera.
“Just like you, Ragdoll. Fake.
You have a hell of a story, I give you that. And your dedication to the craft is top notch. There are a lot of folks out there – fans and wrestlers alike – that will find you scary as hell. They’re going to run and hide from the sight of you, and the moment they see your name on the card, they are going to cower in fear. It’s the biggest thing you have going for you at this moment, especially considering how new you are to the UGWC. Everyone is looking at you, and you give them the creeps. That’s why you’re a champion today, and that’s why you’re likely to win many championships, including the big one, for years to come. And I have to say, you’re almost believable.
...almost.
You want to know where it all goes wrong for you? It’s when you actively invoke the name Tempest. I’m not here to talk shit on the guy – he's beaten me on more than one occasion, and he has all the skills in the world. He’s a bright, young talent who is going to be a menace to face down the road, but he’s also a broody little emo kid, and everyone knows that. It’s his THING, which is fine, but it’s not his CRUTCH. You, Ragdoll? You took an idea made by Tempest, and turned it into the extreme. You took something that was a trait and made it your entire personality. Underneath the paint and the hair and the “threatening to stab someone with a pair of scissors”, who are you, Ragdoll? Truly, who are you? I think you put up a veil, not because this is the “real you”, and not because there is some “dark, mysterious past” that we don’t want to uncover, but I think you put up this mask because, in all honesty...you’re really boring.”
Centurion steps forwards towards the camera with a huge grin on his face. He tosses his golf club to the side, and it does not make a sound, indicating that there are others in the area that were able to catch his weapon.
“I know that is hilarious coming from me, the so called “most boring man in professional wrestling”, but what you see is what you get with me. That’s why I’m so hated. People are ok with being beat by a space alien, or a mobster, or a time traveler...but I’m just a dude. A dude that has been doing this for a really long time and has gotten really fucking good at it. And you, Ragdoll?
Well, when you take off that face paint and you go home, you’re just a boring girl named “Jenny” who has a bachelor’s degree in philosophy and didn’t feel like sending out job applications. You drink pumpkin spice lattes ironically, and you own t-shirts of bands you’ve never heard before. Billie Eilish is your muse, but you liked her a lot more before she “sold out” and dyed her hair blonde. You binge watch the newest Netflix shows and think sports are “dumb”, and you go onto your alt Instagram account and stalk your ex-boyfriends and high school bullies...
...then you wake up the next morning, put the paint back on, and dance around in front of the camera to remind everyone how “damaged” you are.
Don’t take any of this as a severe criticism, either. So, you play a clown on the weekends. Most of the UGWC roster plays wrestler on the weekends, and they’re not nearly as convincing as you are.”
Centurion reaches a new dollhouse and stands over it. The camera does not pan in, so it is unclear what the contents of this house represent.
“That’s the thing, Ragdoll. All of this makeup and spooky shit – it's distracting from the real strength about you, and that is that you’re good. You’re really good. In fact, you’re one of the best wrestlers in the company. You’re easily one of the favorites to walk out of the Keeper Of The Keys match with a shot at the big title, which is something that will be overlooked by the roster thanks in part to your personality. Even if you were just “Pumpkin Spice Jenny”, you’d still be a top contender for the title, which is why it’s so infuriating to see all of this bullshit surrounding you.
Last week, I made a comment that the UGWC probably wouldn’t select me to be in that match if they had the opportunity to book it themselves. If the UGWC brass could sit down and decide on everything – from the Key holders, to the title holders, to who headlines the show, I can almost guarantee that they would not want me in that Keepers match. I’ve been too inconsistent lately, and they are looking for “UGWC” folks that they can plug into that spot. Folks that fit their style, their narrative, and their background. And I’m none of those.
However...if they were to sit down and select champions, there’s no doubt in my mind that they would put at least one of the title belts on me.”
Centurion kneels down behind the dollhouse, and the camera zooms in. Inside the house, there are various figures all representing various members of the UGWC roster. They are battling all throughout the house, but isolated in one room is a doll representing Centurion, who has a title belt over his shoulder, and two men in suits standing behind him, clapping.
“I’m sure you’re wondering how that makes any sense. It’s pretty simple – the UGWC brass wants the top champion to be one of “their guys”. That’s why Donovan Hastings has been such a good champion for them. Sure, he acts tough and thinks he’s the big man on campus, but in actuality, he’s nothing more than the good puppy that the Coalition can send out there to bark. But me?
I’m a legacy, not just here, but around the world. People know who I am without ever seeing me wrestle. I am money. I put cash in their fucking pockets without even trying. I can lose every single match I’m in, and I’ll still bring prestige to any championship I hold. In fact, if I had to make a bet, I would think the front office is rooting for me to win this week, only for you to win at the pay per view. For as “crazy” as you are, they see you as a star they can sculpt into their perfect champion, whereas they see me walking onto the Tara Fenix Charity Cruise and Clash of the Immortals and XWF Television and everywhere else I go with holding the Conquest Title and drumming up interest and money into the federation.
And trust me when I say this – I'm no one’s favorite back at headquarters. I’m the unfortunate side effect of professional wrestling being a business.”
The camera pans back out, and Centurion walks towards the camera once more. As he does, he reaches the end of where the dollhouses are, and the further the camera pulls out, the smaller the houses get. There have to be dozens of dollhouses scattered throughout the room.
“You’ve made the UGWC your playground since you got here. You won the Massive Melee – an absolutely incredible achievement for someone brand new. You beat Travis Pierce...but everyone beats Travis Pierce. Your wins over Phrixus Deimos and Angie Vaughn were impressive, but not unexpected. Phrixus loses more than he wins, and poor Angie knew she was going to lose the moment she heard she was facing a psychotic clown. Love that girl, but she’s not exactly “built” to counter someone like you. It’s been an absolute fairy tale start for you...
...but it’s time for reality to set back in. You’re facing a fucking legend now, and one that neither fears, nor overlooks you. I know what you are, and are not capable of. I know you’re going to say a lot of stuff without actually saying anything. I know you’re going to bring out your Creep Show friends and try to be as intimidating as possible, but then I know Monday night will roll around, and you will have to get into the ring with me, and all the acting in the world isn’t going to cover up the fact that, one on one, toe to toe with me, you can’t stack up.
You gave Angie an ultimatum last week, Ragdoll. You told her she could either give up and walk away from the match, or she could experience violence at your hands. You know for a fact that I’m not walking away from this contest, so I’ll give you an ultimatum of my own – you get to choose the level of violence and destruction that takes place in that ring on Monday night. If you want me to simply wrestle you and tap you out, that’s fine. I’d love to do that. Or, we can do it YOUR way – and I can bring a world of pain and devastation that you couldn’t even write about in your diary at night. You want pain and torture? I’m game for that. I’m getting pretty good at that, too.
Bring your knives, your weapons, all your friends – bring everything you need to make yourself feel comfortable. I want this to be as much into your favor as possible...because I don’t want to hear anyone in the back try and make excuses as to why you lost. You want to be feared? Slice me open and make me bleed. That’s fine. Personally, I want to be respected. I want to be praised. I want to be IDOLIZED. Fuck fear. Give me immortality.
Everyone else is waiting to see if you can take advantage of your position in the Keeper of the Keys match. Me? I don’t care. You want my key? You can fucking have it. There’s only one thing that matters in this industry – gold. You have it, and I want it, and I will go through the fires of Hell to take is off of you if that’s what you need me to do. Just know, no matter how much preparation you bring to the table, the end result is going to be the same – Centurion, announced as the new UGWC Conquest Champion, and the people all over the world rejoicing.
Play time is over, Jenny. Put away your toys and say good night, because on Monday night, you will meet your...
FINAL FANTASY!!!
