Post by Deleted on Apr 24, 2020 20:37:11 GMT -5
”Everybody is always excited by the ideals of seeing something for the very… first… time…”
(FADE IN: on KID KOALA and DROPBEAR standing before an Alpha Pro Wrestling banner tacked to a graffitied brick wall. KID KOALA wears a Vince Carter North Carolina jersey and ADIDAS three stripe track pants. He has a bottle of Gatorade in one hand and a cigarette in the other. DROPBEAR wears the strange animal pelt low over his face and slightly bounces from foot-to-foot. The MARSUPIALS OF MAYHEM are in the house.)
KID KOALA:
“How fantastic. How amazing. How bloody incredible.
“Something NEW. BRAND bloody new. Brand SPANKIN’ new.
“Fresh meat, even.”
(KK takes a draw on his smoke, looking across to DROPBEAR, who just continues to bounce.)
KID KOALA:
“Since we made our debut on APW telly the world has been askin’ the same, old, boring bloody question.
“What the HELL are these two blokes up to? What on EARTH are they trying to achieve with all that mumbo-bloody-jumbo about how the fans should just blow their brains out?
(scoff) “It wasn’t a bloody literal. It was metaphorical. A concept I believe a lot of you get LOST in because it requires your own head…” (drives the index finger of his smoking hand into his temple) “…to consume something and process it independently to the thoughts the likes of bloody global media expects you to eat, stomach and digest.”
(Clucking his tongue, KID KOALA takes a long drag of his smoke as he shakes his head.)
KID KOALA
“We are NOT global bloody media.
“Maybe we’re mediocrity.
“Maybe we’re portraying characters on a fucken television program with the expectation that we’ll find some sort of meaningful storyline that will engage you beyond your capacity and leave the front of your underpants all sticky to the thought of WHAT’S - GONNA HAPPEN - NEXT!”
(He shrugs and twists the cap off his Gatorade. Attempting to swig from it before another thought strikes him.)
KID KOALA:
“Or maybe the exclusivity of your reality begs for us to be your bloody villain?”
(He finally has that swig of his drink, running his forearm over his lips.)
KID KOALA:
“Or your hero.
“It doesn’t matter really. We will always be to you the archetype of your own reality. We will forever be simply...” (waves his hand like he was casting the words into the air) “...your perception.
“It’s a matter of bloody perspectives really. What is real and what is imagined, those lines are so close that an honest man might never expect there to be a difference at all but the false idol will only give you their bloody perception of what they think your reality should be.
“And we will NOT be your false idol.
“We will not be your scapegoat.
“We will NOT - BE - FOR THE FEINT - OF - FUCKING - HEART!”
(The conviction on his face is poignant. DROPBEAR’s bouncing has intensified. His breathing growing into something close to a beast preparing to attack.)
KID KOALA:
“This is the part where we’re supposed to bloody tell you that at the Pay-Per-View we lay four bodies on the floor. Four.
“FUCKING COUNT THEM!”
(DROPBEAR holds up four fingers to the camera, eyes wild as he lingers on each finger.)
KID KOALA:
“Four fingers. Four victims. Four competitors. Four bloody ideas. Four incandescent beings of purity. Four clouds awaiting their storms orders. Four soldiers standing at attention. Four corpses rotting in the mud.
“Four.
“Four opponents. Two antagonists. Two heroes. Two antichrists. Two men. Or two demigods. Or two demons.
“Perspective is who stands in front of the bloody mirror. It’s the reflections of light, mate.”
(KID KOALA takes a long draw from his smoke.)
KID KOALA:
“Aaron Blaze. Jason Ryan. John Blade. Latoya Hixx.
“The funny THING about bloody light is it can be extinguished. Like moths and flames and all that bloody carry on… somebody will get drawn to the light.
“Take that as literally, metaphorically or phantasma-fucken-gorically as you bloody like, mate.
“Idle threats from idle minds means nothing when you stand inside four fucking corners of a ring. The greatest oxymoron of all-time. A squared circle. A bloody gladiator’s colosseum or is it a dance recital?
“We can stand here in front of you and speculate your demise but the truth is we don’t bloody know what fate will bring, boys and girls. We just DON’T bloody know.
“But what we DO know… is that me and Dropbear, the Marsupials of fucking Mayhem, step inside the APW ring for the very first time and it all culminates in a three-way dance to the unwashed, ignorant and unassuming.
“Live on Pay-Per-View.
“Live in front of a studio audience.
“Cue the canned bloody laughter.
“It’s all one big fucking joke. And somebody has to be the punchline. Somebody has to be the plot line. Somebody has to be the fucking credits.”
(DROPBEAR mimes holding up a vintage video camera, winding one side.)
KID KOALA:
“See, we’re oh so fucken familiar with how this all works. You four all wait in the shadows to see if the Marsupials DARE mutter your insolent little names. We stand here and we talk shit about how you can’t do this and you can’t do that and blah blah blah fucken BLAH!
“Your giving yourself definition. We don’t HAVE that for you. We will not define you.
“The progression of time and space will define you. How you navigate your path is completely BEYOND my fucking comprehension, mate. I cannot be your fork in the road. I cannot be your butterfly effect.
“We're nothing in your timeline.
“And therefore you’re nothing in ours.
“It’s conceptual really. What are you to me?”
(KID KOALA turns and looks at DROPBEAR. He seems completely as he returns the look. He nods silently as if testifying KK’s words. KID KOALA turns back to the camera, taking a final draw on his cigarette before flicking it off-screen.)
KID KOALA:
“You are nothing to me.
“I am Jack’s inflamed sense of rejection.”
(He steps closer to the camera, DROPBEAR fills the rest of the screen looking over his shoulder.)
KID KOALA:
“Heroes and villains are the quintessential culmination of pop-culture’s yearning to exist in a capacity it can never physically have the capability of.
“We are neither.
“As you are nothing to us we are everything to you.
“But I’m not the monster you’re looking for.”
(DROPBEAR shoves KID KOALA out of the frame and snarls at the camera.)
KID KOALA: (off-screen)
“He is.”
(FADE to BLACK.)
(FADE IN: on KID KOALA and DROPBEAR standing before an Alpha Pro Wrestling banner tacked to a graffitied brick wall. KID KOALA wears a Vince Carter North Carolina jersey and ADIDAS three stripe track pants. He has a bottle of Gatorade in one hand and a cigarette in the other. DROPBEAR wears the strange animal pelt low over his face and slightly bounces from foot-to-foot. The MARSUPIALS OF MAYHEM are in the house.)
KID KOALA:
“How fantastic. How amazing. How bloody incredible.
“Something NEW. BRAND bloody new. Brand SPANKIN’ new.
“Fresh meat, even.”
(KK takes a draw on his smoke, looking across to DROPBEAR, who just continues to bounce.)
KID KOALA:
“Since we made our debut on APW telly the world has been askin’ the same, old, boring bloody question.
“What the HELL are these two blokes up to? What on EARTH are they trying to achieve with all that mumbo-bloody-jumbo about how the fans should just blow their brains out?
(scoff) “It wasn’t a bloody literal. It was metaphorical. A concept I believe a lot of you get LOST in because it requires your own head…” (drives the index finger of his smoking hand into his temple) “…to consume something and process it independently to the thoughts the likes of bloody global media expects you to eat, stomach and digest.”
(Clucking his tongue, KID KOALA takes a long drag of his smoke as he shakes his head.)
KID KOALA
“We are NOT global bloody media.
“Maybe we’re mediocrity.
“Maybe we’re portraying characters on a fucken television program with the expectation that we’ll find some sort of meaningful storyline that will engage you beyond your capacity and leave the front of your underpants all sticky to the thought of WHAT’S - GONNA HAPPEN - NEXT!”
(He shrugs and twists the cap off his Gatorade. Attempting to swig from it before another thought strikes him.)
KID KOALA:
“Or maybe the exclusivity of your reality begs for us to be your bloody villain?”
(He finally has that swig of his drink, running his forearm over his lips.)
KID KOALA:
“Or your hero.
“It doesn’t matter really. We will always be to you the archetype of your own reality. We will forever be simply...” (waves his hand like he was casting the words into the air) “...your perception.
“It’s a matter of bloody perspectives really. What is real and what is imagined, those lines are so close that an honest man might never expect there to be a difference at all but the false idol will only give you their bloody perception of what they think your reality should be.
“And we will NOT be your false idol.
“We will not be your scapegoat.
“We will NOT - BE - FOR THE FEINT - OF - FUCKING - HEART!”
(The conviction on his face is poignant. DROPBEAR’s bouncing has intensified. His breathing growing into something close to a beast preparing to attack.)
KID KOALA:
“This is the part where we’re supposed to bloody tell you that at the Pay-Per-View we lay four bodies on the floor. Four.
“FUCKING COUNT THEM!”
(DROPBEAR holds up four fingers to the camera, eyes wild as he lingers on each finger.)
KID KOALA:
“Four fingers. Four victims. Four competitors. Four bloody ideas. Four incandescent beings of purity. Four clouds awaiting their storms orders. Four soldiers standing at attention. Four corpses rotting in the mud.
“Four.
“Four opponents. Two antagonists. Two heroes. Two antichrists. Two men. Or two demigods. Or two demons.
“Perspective is who stands in front of the bloody mirror. It’s the reflections of light, mate.”
(KID KOALA takes a long draw from his smoke.)
KID KOALA:
“Aaron Blaze. Jason Ryan. John Blade. Latoya Hixx.
“The funny THING about bloody light is it can be extinguished. Like moths and flames and all that bloody carry on… somebody will get drawn to the light.
“Take that as literally, metaphorically or phantasma-fucken-gorically as you bloody like, mate.
“Idle threats from idle minds means nothing when you stand inside four fucking corners of a ring. The greatest oxymoron of all-time. A squared circle. A bloody gladiator’s colosseum or is it a dance recital?
“We can stand here in front of you and speculate your demise but the truth is we don’t bloody know what fate will bring, boys and girls. We just DON’T bloody know.
“But what we DO know… is that me and Dropbear, the Marsupials of fucking Mayhem, step inside the APW ring for the very first time and it all culminates in a three-way dance to the unwashed, ignorant and unassuming.
“Live on Pay-Per-View.
“Live in front of a studio audience.
“Cue the canned bloody laughter.
“It’s all one big fucking joke. And somebody has to be the punchline. Somebody has to be the plot line. Somebody has to be the fucking credits.”
(DROPBEAR mimes holding up a vintage video camera, winding one side.)
KID KOALA:
“See, we’re oh so fucken familiar with how this all works. You four all wait in the shadows to see if the Marsupials DARE mutter your insolent little names. We stand here and we talk shit about how you can’t do this and you can’t do that and blah blah blah fucken BLAH!
“Your giving yourself definition. We don’t HAVE that for you. We will not define you.
“The progression of time and space will define you. How you navigate your path is completely BEYOND my fucking comprehension, mate. I cannot be your fork in the road. I cannot be your butterfly effect.
“We're nothing in your timeline.
“And therefore you’re nothing in ours.
“It’s conceptual really. What are you to me?”
(KID KOALA turns and looks at DROPBEAR. He seems completely as he returns the look. He nods silently as if testifying KK’s words. KID KOALA turns back to the camera, taking a final draw on his cigarette before flicking it off-screen.)
KID KOALA:
“You are nothing to me.
“I am Jack’s inflamed sense of rejection.”
(He steps closer to the camera, DROPBEAR fills the rest of the screen looking over his shoulder.)
KID KOALA:
“Heroes and villains are the quintessential culmination of pop-culture’s yearning to exist in a capacity it can never physically have the capability of.
“We are neither.
“As you are nothing to us we are everything to you.
“But I’m not the monster you’re looking for.”
(DROPBEAR shoves KID KOALA out of the frame and snarls at the camera.)
KID KOALA: (off-screen)
“He is.”
(FADE to BLACK.)
