Post by Smith Jones on Aug 2, 2019 12:38:46 GMT -5
~ON CAMERA~
SMITH JONES: “If only they could clone me.”
Fade up on a shot of a single candle in the darkness; the only light in a world of pitch black emptiness, devoid of light, devoid of all hope. Shrouded in fear. Out of that very darkness creeps the incredible Smith Jones. He is dressed in his sparkly white robe with sparkly silver trim that shimmers in the warm glow of the flickering flame. Smith watches the white wax drip down the sides of the candle and onto the ornate silver candlestick. Smith stares at the dancing light before him.
SMITH JONES: “They’d make more and drone me. No, no one may own me. Don’t phone me. Bemoan me! Alone we are more who we are.”
The camera zooms in so close to Smith’s face that it fills the entire screen. He sneers confidently with an arrogant swagger. The candlelight dances over the wrinkles across his forehead
SMITH JONES: “Alas, there is only one Jones. See? Me only! So don’t be alarmed when you fail to dethrone me. You won’t be the cloned me who bones me. Don’t know me. Don’t own me.”
Jones spins, flinging his robe behind him. The gust of wind extinguishes the flame.
SMITH JONES: “...and I’m right here.”
~ON CAMERA~
A shock of agonizing pain shoots up from Smith’s tailbone all the way up his back. His organs slosh violently inside his torso, threatening to split like fleshy water balloons. Smitty’s bones crumble within him like loose rocks in a bag of raw meat. Jones groans.
SMITH JONES: “Spinebuster.”
Just then, he looks up to see Bryan “Buzz” Worthy gaining his balance on the top rope up above him. Worthy is setting up for his breakout finisher News Crash! With everything he has left within him, Smith Jones pulls his legs up above himself and kicks up at the rafters as hard as he can. Through some sort of sick sorcery, Smitty winds up on his feet. Without a pause, Jones hops and tucks his knees, snatching Worthy out of mid air with a twisted high impact Point of Controversy!!! BOOM!!! The twisted impact flattens Jones underneath the hurtling body weight of Bryan Worthy. Still, the connection of Smith’s right patella to the base of Buzz’ skull causes grave damage to Worthy. Both men are down. Smith claws his way into the pinfall and hooks the outside leg, holding on tight in snug back press!!!
REF: “ONE! TWO!! THREE!!!”
DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!
SMITH JONES: [ in a pained whisper ] “How swell.”
Both men lay dead on the canvas.
TANNOY: AND NUMBER ONE CONTENDER… FOR THE ALPHA WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP... SMITH JONES!!!!
Smitty stares up at the ceiling as Tannoy’s words echo in his ringing ears over and over again. The reality of those words cannot quite penetrate his psyche. Too good to be true. Too idyllic to be real. This MUST be a dream. This simply cannot be. This is...
CROWD: ...AWESOME! Clap! Clap! Clap, clap, clap!!! This is AWESOME! Clap! Clap! Clap, clap, clap!!! This is AWESOME! Clap! Clap! Clap, clap, clap!!! This is AWESOME! Clap! Clap! Clap, clap, clap!!!
Smith and Buzz both stay down on the mat for a long moment. Jones manages to push up to all fours and then pull himself to a standing base using the support of the ring ropes. Jones looks at his opponent and studies every breath he takes. He empathizes with Worthy's pain and drinks it in. He then leans in and extends his hand to Buzz. He pulls Buzz Worthy to his feet and the men shakes hands hard in the centre of the squared circle. With a heavy limp, Jones walks over to a corner and climbs to the middle turnbuckle on the inside. Smith raises his right arm high above his head. Smith Jones looks up at his fist. He blinks tears from his eyes. They start to stream down his face involuntarily. Smitty closes his eyes and sobs.
~OFF CAMERA~
MARIAH: “Hold on, Winston!!!”
A collection of fifth graders is standing under a tree where young Winston Smith Jones is hanging, no, dangling… perilously dangling from the branch of a maple tree by only one arm!!
RODNEY: “Jump, you stupid reject! JUST LET GO!”
He reminds Winston of his father. His eyes are tightly shut. Only the sweet voice of his crush, Mariah, is keeping him from falling to certain decimation. A tear drips from Winston's chin and falls in slow motion all the way down, crashing on a tree root beneath him with a SPLAT!! His sobs grow louder. His stomach is butterflies; his abs are taut. His arm begins to hurt and his fingers begin to tremble even more. Just then, he hears the voice of his arch nemesis… Rodney.
RODNEY: “LET GO, you little TURD! LEETTTT GGOOOOOO!!!”
CARL: “We’ll catch you!”
Winston opens his eyes and looks straight up at his fist wrapped around that tree branch. He takes a deep breath. Winston opens his hand and spreads his fingers wide. The crowd parts like a doughnut allowing Winston’s body to crush down upon the brambly roots of the mighty maple.
WINSTON: “Oof!”
CROWD: “GASP!”
Winston has suffered compound fractures in both shins and a shattered elbow. Jagged, bloody bones stick out through his skin on both legs.
CROWD: “Eeeewwwwwwwwwwww!”
WINSTON: “Ugh.”
Winston learned a lot about trust that day. He learned a lot about himself. That fall did not kill him. It made him stronger.
~ON CAMERA~
Fade up on a shot of a single white patent leather wrestling boot, laced only across the top of the foot, hanging wide open with one flap down on either side of the leg. It is a caucasian male wearing a tall white sock that goes three quarters of the way up his shin. He reaches down from the top of the camera shot and grabs hold of both white laces with both hands. He begins to thread the boot holes, one by one.
SMITH JONES: “BRYTAIN MONTGOMERY. Funny that I would claim to be coming back to face you and be Number One Contender all the way over here in Alpha Pro Wrestling. Why am I here and not Underground with scum like you? You know this one, Bryte. You’ve always hated this about me. I’m a professional wrestler and pro wrestling LIVES in AP-Dub! AP-Dub!! AP-Dub!!! Repeat. Repeat in perpetuity. I did not expect it to be THIS FRUSTRATINGLY DIFFICULT to come back from retirement and into the thick of the fight. I’d planned on being APW World Heavyweight Wrestling Champion by now. The best laid plans of mice and men, something something. There are some top level, high calibre players in the locker room. Every champion is legit. Every fighter has bite. And this week on Monday Night Mayhem, I find myself in a Triple Threat Match against two of the hungriest, most ravenous talent they could find. So, I guess I gotta be Smith Jones again. All over it, thanks.”
The boot is now fully laced. Jones stretches the remainder of the long, long lace taut in both directions with both hands. He ties them tightly with purpose and focused intent. He tucks the loops and ends into the top of his boot. The camera zooms out as Smith stands. We now see that he is dressed to compete in his trademark all white boots, kneepads, trunks, and white wrist tape. Both boots are firmly laced. Smitty is standing in the corner of his basement training ring on the outskirts of Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Deep underground, Jones steps towards his basement training ring. The white tape on the ropes is quite frayed and the light gray canvas is darker in the middle than it is on the edges. Smith wipes his feet respectfully on the apron before parting the ropes and taking centre.
SMITH JONES: “The Last One Standing"? Y’know what, I--”
Smith rubs his forehead with the palm of his hand and lets out a deep sigh.
SMITH JONES: "How ‘bout First One Dented"? Have you seen the back of Buzz Worthy’s head lately? He looks like a Jack-O-Lantern on November 1st! The Point of Controversy is not to be trifled with. Beware. Keep your eyes on ME at all times. Christian. You wanna live out your twin brother’s dreams because he can’t be around to do it himself? That’s touching stuff! Heartstrings frayed. You got me! But not everyone’s dreams are meant to come true. Sometimes in life, Christian, people expire. Natural Selection is rough. There there. The difficult thing is to learn to see when danger lurks and steer clear. Can you do that? Might be too late for you already. This Monday Night Metal, you’ve got a match against the incredible Smith Jones… and... a gentlemen who answers to the name Fucking... A... Don’t doubt how sad it makes me to be forced to speak this man’s name aloud in mixed company.”
Smith does a front roll along the ropes. He then does another, then another. Smith keeps rolling around and around inside the ring until he is too dizzy to stand. He stands. Jones runs the ropes back and forth and back and forth until he is so winded that he can run no longer. He then does a front flip, landing flat on his back. WHAM!! Jones sits up, still dizzy, sucking wind. He starts to laugh to himself. Him smile cannot be contained.
SMITH JONES: “Fucking… A… I simply do not fear you and there is nothing this side of Jupiter’s dying red storm that you could ever do to make that happen. You’ve got a fiery ring style. Flashy at times. Downright dirty at others. You fancy yourself a high level hardcore hack, a man who adeptly utilizes a violent combination of opportunity and ignorant recklessness that will serve only to get you trapped in The System sooner than later. My Crossface Chickenwing Body Scissors submission finisher and many of my other submissions might be the appropriate way to take advantage of your lack of… refined ring skill. Doesn’t matter if I target your head, your torso, your shoulder… The System will neutralize you and render you less than functional for a significant amount of time. You fling yourself about wildly one too many times and I’ll hook you. You won’t even see it coming despite me warning you here and now. Human nature. Hn.”
His face drops to a stark scowl.
SMITH JONES: “And if either of you finds yourself face down in the middle of the ring in a puddle of your own facial drippings, know that Gravitas is about to come crashing down. Brytain Montgomery is watching me because she knows like everyone here in APW now knows that I am indeed Smith Jones and I am right here. Her day is coming at the PCW Reunion Show. Yeah, I’ll be there. Can’t wait to put more permanent scars deep into your flesh, cutie. This Triple Threat Match is for me a chance to show the world my pure dominance. This will be a showcase of what the incredible Smith Jones is capable of at full tilt. Because I need to stop the voices. I cannot stand the whispers that talk about how Master Jubei will own me when I challenge for the APW World Heavyweight Wrestling Championship!!! Do you... ”
He leans forward and whispers.
SMITH JONES: “D’you know how much that… hurts my feelings?”
He now stands and climbs to the second rope on the inside facing a large painting of a maple tree.
SMITH JONES: “Masuda Jubei will not be Champion forever. Masuda. You had better keep an eye on me at all times as well, just like my opponents this week. I've been watching you. I've been impressed by everything you've accomplished and you should be proud... for as long as I allow you to feel it. I will come for that gold at the very first chance I get. And the longer you hide behind the so-called master plan for the title and refuse to put that belt up for grabs, the more voracious and vitriolic I will become. I SHOULD BE CHAMP. You should be me. I am coming for you. And if any of you had any doubts about my ability to rise...”
Fade to black.
SMITH JONES: “...let go.”
