An Unmarked Tomb For Winnie The Poo

White letters fade in over a black screen:


As the white letters fade back to black, we begin to vaguely hear ambient wind blowing and distant rain among the low hums of traffic.

The black screen fades in and we see a set of active railroad tracks with snow accumulated along the sides of it. There is steam rising from them, making our scene seem misty as light rain comes down.

A 1963 Buick drives into the scene and our viewpoint shifts to the inside of this vehicle. With knuckles whitening from the tight grip, the driver makes a sharp left onto an icy road, fishtailing the car a couple times before regaining control.

We get a look at the face of the woman driving, host to bloodshot eyes that she is forcing wide open. This blonde-haired woman has obviously not blinked in a very long time. The bags underneath her eyes let us know that she also hasn't slept in several days.

With a curl of her lip, the woman takes a deep breath before closing her eyes and peacefully driving off the cherry street Bridge. The crackling thud of the car hitting the rocky lakeside is almost mundane and silent.

An anticlimactic death.

Unseen.

Unheard.

Unexplained.

We now transition from the barely colored footage, to a shot of the same lake in modern HD. The same car lies in the same spot, but with roughly 57 years worth of untouched rust.


A set of black boots walk into the shot and the camera slowly pans up the legs that wear them. A nice firm round butt is tightly clad in riveted black jeans, matches by a leather jacket that we now see is worn by Noble Savage. The camera stops at her face as she looks to the side as if angrily analyzing the rocks in the lake.

NOBLE:
"So this is your home town? A town where women like Vivian here can just veer off the side of the road and not even have her death acknowledged by the locals. These are the types of hypocrites that hail from your city? People who do not even have enough human decency to look into what drove someone like Vivian Leary to the point of taking her own life... Why should I even bother putting you to rest when your town did not the same for her?"

From beside Noble Savage, a coldly unemotional Lady Abernathy steps in to view. She looks at Noble Savage and slowly shakes her head. Noble Savage turns away.

NOBLE
"No... This city does not represent Winston... Nor does Winston represent this city. This city is full of hypocrites and scumbags, yes, but Winston is... Different. He is an artist and performs his disgrace with pride. He is not just another body to step on to reach the top... He is more like the measuring stick by which we should judge the rest of the contenders. He has defeated a decent number of foes, with skill and class. He has sharpened his craft to the point of becoming APW's World Champion... Twice... That doesn't just happen by coincidence. And it sure as hell does not happen to someone who is as careless as the inhabitants of this city. The man even managed to be the first to win Rookie of The Year two years in a row at one point! So, in a way, I am flattered that he has been the one chosen as my next victim. This way I can dissect his spirit and see what drives him to success, and what sets him apart from the ones who neglected Vivian."

Lady Abernathy puts her hand on Noble Savage's shoulder and turns her back around to face her. With a sideways shift of her eyes, Lady Abernathy directs Noble Savage's attention to the broken vehicle in the lake.

From within the wreckage, we see a skeletal hand grip its way out of the window, dragging a wet corpse out with it. Mold and maggots decorate the fleshless skin that barely hangs from these bones and the broken skull of Vivian Leary begins weep. With her other hand, Vivian pulls out part of her toughened damp hair as she begins to speak with a menacing hiss... It is Lady Abernathy speaking through her.

CORPSE:
"Smithhhhh Jonesssss... Has won the championship twice... But has also lost it twice... Remember, Brandi... You are only as good as your last moment... And his last moment was losing the championship, not winning it... Do not allow his accolades to fool you. I have chosen this vessel as a symbol for you to remember... We are all bound to the numerology of the universe. Life itself is governed by the same mathematics that death is known to deal. If you understand this, you will have Smith's number... The year I tormented Vivian's mind to bring about her demise was '63... Smith Jones... Can never master this number... He is bound to it and does not realize it... His stature... 6'2... Has stood as such for most of his life, for if he were to hit 6'3, his spirit would..."

NOBLE:
"It would collapse... Just like Vivian's sanity..."

CORPSE:
"Precisely... This is also why he has lost the championship on his 63rd day... Both times... His reign as champion ends at 63... Faithfully so... Without question... Without--

NOBLE:
"Without fail... Because the only thing that fails in Winston's predetermined life is Winston himself. I understand now. Same way all his conspiracy theories have failed to be proven. And the same way he has failed his own city. He didn't win rookie of the year twice in a row because he is good... He won it because even in his second year he was STILL a damn rookie! How do you manage to remain wet behind he ear for that long? And it is not only that abject failure, it is also couple with how unmemorable and easily forgettable he is. Even the academy that granted him rookie of the year did not remember him well enough to know he was already a rookie the year before. He's another generic bad ass. He claims to be proud of his Canadian patriarch, but nobody in Canada gives a damn about him. So once he realizes nobody likes him, he begins to refer to himself as n outcast who doesn't fit in well or play well with others. I know his little children's game. To avoid being tossed to the side, he simply set himself apart from the likes of these rats and says he prefers to be alone... But if he is such a loner, then how come decided to hide his balls behind The Architects? To successfully cement the fact that he is as much a hypocrite as the people he turned his back on. So with this numbers game you suggest, Lady, you can rest assured that I will 63 this guy. It won't be a walk in the park though. I know he's one of the toughest men here. But I've faced tough men before and permanently carved my name into their souls in the process... It is he, who has never faced anything like me. So, this is going to hurt... But it is going to be fun..."

Noble Savage grins and walks away. Lady Abernathy is nowhere to be seen, but the corpse of Vivian Leary collapses into cheese-like slime, leaving purple and yellow mist as Noble Savage leaves. We fade to black.


We fade in from black to a close up view of the sharpened teeth on a dinosaur exhibit. As the camera pans out, we see it is an empty museum and it is after hours. The lonely halls provide an echo to the sound of footsteps approaching. In the distant we see the black silhouette of Noble Savage's naked body.

SAVAGE:
"You know, Winston, I heard you like to be blunt, so I am just going to be straight forward as well... Your career itself is impressive. Yeah. Surprised to hear me say that? You thought I'd just hurl insults at you without a goal in mind? No, I give credit where it is due, and your career is worthy of that cred. But you, yourself, Winston Smith Jones, the person, are a different story. You are just another turd in the woods."

Noble Savage steps into the light and her shadowy silhouette is now a vividly nude physique of slim athletic build. Pinkish brown nipples adorn her restful yet perky breasts over pale white skin that makes her faint greenish veins accent themselves into visibility. She continues to walk toward us while gently running her index finger along the sides of a protected exhibit next to her. She looks at the dust and rubs it between her finger and thumb while speaking her next words.

SAVAGE:
"See, for every milestone you hit, Winnie boy, there are a million and one ways that I can make you shit your pants. And I don't mean in fear... I mean physically beating you until your poop leaves your body... Winnie, in case you don't get it yet, I'm saying I am going to literally beat the shit out of you. After I am done with you, nobody is going to know you as Smith Jones any more... They will know you as the man with poo in his tights... Your fans will no longer chant "Architect," Winnie boy, they will chant "poo." How ironic... I always thought Winnie The Poo was just a cuddly bear who loves honey, but it turns out he's just an opportunist with an ego and a mind-numbingly detachable sense of self importance and class. However, there is value in being a six-foot-two clump of poo, Winnie boy. You serve as a beacon for me to find anyone on the roster who might be a, uh... I dunno... What's that five letter word? Begins with a P? Hmmm... Let's just say you're a turd in a sandbox, and I know just who has tried to cover you in dirt."

Noble Savage now brings herself down to an almost slither-like crawl to get under the divider rail of a forest display. With her back arched sinfully, her butt lightly touches the divider rail as she crawls in. She slithers her way through fake bushes that sit among real grass and dirt. The camera follows. On the other side of this knoll is a gold-colored bowl the size of a standard hot tub. Noble Savage looks at the glowing water inside and grins.

SAVAGE:
"I have seen your triumphs, Winnie, and I've seen your failures. I have to admit your resumé is impressive. But... Your luck is what is most impressive above all else. The first time you became champion here, it happened while the belt was vacant... So, had the champion never DIED you would have never won. But that's not even the crazy part... The second time you won the championship... It ALSO happened while the belt was vacant... So if Dean Wolf never got fired, you would have never won that title back from him... Talk about right place right time, eh? Look Poo-bear, the bottom line is this, you were champion twice, but neither one of those times did you win the title FROM a champion, so your reigns may be impressive but not that impressive. You do not have what it takes to defeat a champion. I do. Your CV looks good on paper but your video packages... They do not impress. You are not the artist you pretend to be. You are not classic. You haven't moved continents and you have not changed the world. I have. I've caused seas to shift, people to run in panic, I've crumbled mountains and forced entire civilizations to swallow hurricanes. I've impacted the wrestling world in every single way that you wish you have. And it burns you, doesn't it?"

Noble Savage slowly walks around the golden bowl, sensually caressing it with her fingers as she circles.

SAVAGE:
"It burns you to know that I effortlessly am what you over exert yourself to try and convince others to view you as. You're mean but I'm sadistic, Winnie, you're not ready for this. Neither you or the rejects you run with can ever come close to even grazing me. I know they'll be prepared to run in and save you from your tomb, but I am already expecting them. I have a tomb seeker in store for every one of you addicts. Just know this. When we are in that ring, you are going to have to kill me. I don't know, tie me down, dismember me, flatten me... Do whatever you can to make sure I never walk again because if I do get up, you and those other little boys are going to sleep. You will learn a lesson in humility, even if it has to be the hard way. You will learn to respect the ranks, and know that having lost a championship multiple times without ever defeating a title holder only makes you a bigger turd than you already are."

Noble Savage now brings one leg up and inside the bowl. As her foot contacts the water she mouts the rim and brings her other leg up as well, then lets herself sink into the glowing liquid. It bubbles up a bit and Noble Savage comes back up, slicking her hair back with her hands to let the water drain off of her.

SAVAGE:
"You're waltzing around the APW arenas as if the world owes you something for being a two time champion... When are you going to win your third championship? What does the belt have to be declared vacant once again so that you could stand a chance? No... Let's not ignore the fact that you are just an opportunity-seeker... But what you'll find is your tomb. Seek and you shall find, right? But I don't have to seek in order to find you. You stand out like a sore thumb... Or... A giant turd... What is it you always say? "if you want me I'm right here“? Well good. It's a good thing that you're right there because it is only a matter of time before you are LEFT there. Your puss posse moves on without you and you once again begin to claim that it was because you're a loner who does not fit anyone's mold. Well, let me shed some light on your position in this world. Let's play a game called two truths and a lie... I will tell you three things, two of which are facts, and one is deceit... Number one, you will bite the canvas this Monday. Number two, you will call your God this Monday. And number three, one day you will win against an actual champ--Ahahahaa!"

Noble Savage shakes her head.

SAVAGE:
"Sorry I could not finish that with a straight face... I guess that gives away which one is the lie here, Winnie Poo-poo. You will never be the legend that you try to convince others you are. Get over yourself and train harder. That is unless, of course, you are comfortable sleeping in a mahogany box with two inches of wiggle room. Because that's where your ego is going to land you if you come at me with that same "classic" energy. I will always respect those who have paved the way for people like me to achieve what I have achieved in this business, but then there are people like you who, instead of holding the door open, you go out of your way to make sure it is closed and nailed shut so that nobody can try to compete with you. That is what you fear most, is it not? Real competition. So you're not satisfied with succeeding, you have to see others miss the chance... That stops right here. I kick down barriers and set precedents. It's what I've been doing my whole life and now, unfortunately for you, Winston, you're the next hurdle in my way. And I don't jump hurdles, I shatter them and set them on fire... And I'm sure would make a fine fire. But once your ashes are stuffed in to that urn, there will be no more running, no more goals to seek... Just your tomb."

With an ear to ear grin, Noble Savage begins to wade her hands through the waters in a gentle playful manner. The camera retreats and comes out of the hidden bushes. We now see a sign that reads "Milwaukee Public Museum - Closed until further notice." The camera remains fixed on that sign as we fade to black. We hear a harmonious hum echoing in the voice of Noble Savage against the black screen. It becomes a chuckle.


The feed is cut.