Post by Smith Jones on Sept 7, 2019 10:58:03 GMT -5
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Fade up on a shot of a 50-inch flatscreen in front of a cornflower blue curtain. The screen is plain white. The camera shot widens and we see APW Interviewer Troy Butler sitting on a white leather stool dressed in a gray suit with a burnt orange tie and a blue pocket square with orange trim. He is on his cell phone waiting to speak with a satellite technician about the signal coming through on-- nevermind. The screen dissolves to a shot of Smith Jones sitting in the middle of his living room on the outskirts of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, playing a Beta of APW 2020, coming this fall to PS4. Pre-order today! Jones is not paying any attention to the camera. He is engrossed in play.
TROY BUTLER: “Smitty. Smitty, can you hear… SMITH!!!”
Jones pause the game and sets the controller next to him on his white leather couch. The entire room is predominantly white with white and gray decor. Jones leans forward in his seat with a wild grin, baring his teeth and everything. A rare glow emanates from the surly suplex machine in his resting state. He is dressed in a gray tee that reads jubilant enough across the front of it in white lettering. He chuckles a bit longer before the joy abruptly stops. Jones cries real tears for about three seconds and then guards his innards with a scowl. He finds true rage through the tensed up musculature of his face.
TROY BUTLER: “Smith, are… you okay?”
SMITH JONES: “I’ve been… trying.”
TROY BUTLER: “Trying… what exactly? Trying to win the APW Title? Trying to overthrow the king?”
SMITH JONES: “Trying to figure out how to explain to the APW faithful that they will not be seeing my face on Monday Night Metal for the very first time since its premiere. I will not lift a finger to allow even the dullest of dullards who may watch that train wreck of a special event to see Jubeilation II as even a remote success. You should call it Fyre II. It’s a load of crap and everybody knows it! Masuda Jubei is not just the man under the crown. He is metaphorically beneath his crown or any crown I can think of. I still have no king. I shan't bow. No, sir.”
TROY BUTLER: “Have you received an invitation to Jubeilation II? Who will you be wearing?”
SMITH JONES: “Don’t be ridiculous, Troy. Be ashamed of yourself. I have no intention of getting on board my private jet to fly all the way to Japan in honour of Masuda Jubei. Picture me doing that, Troy. Picture me walking through the aisles of some Walmart in suburban Toronto searching for the perfect gift, the perfect card. Do I use self checkout or do I wait in the express line. Where do I wait when buying the perfect gift for my king? Where, Troy? Where do I wait in line at Walmart? What in-flight movie do I watch? Comedy? Tragedy? How does one choose? Can you see me doing this? I’m sure you’re struggling to do so. Y’know, ever since Dean Wolf made me stop motivational speaking (ay, there’s the rub), I’ve really had time to focus on ME. I’ve been on sabbatical in an undisclosed location for a vague period of time in the company of those who know they were with me. I’m going to remain here at home alone. I’m a traditionalist, Troy. I have no use for Street Fights or Castle of Horrors or… what in the wrestling world is a Piñata Scramble Match?!?!! Just… no. I’m here at home. I don't even like Japanese thrash music anyway! There’s a training ring in my basement and ice cold milk in the fridge. Time off has been good for me. Exhaust yourselves flying to Japan and back. I’ll be fresh as a trillium when you return.”
TROY BUTLER: “You intimated last time we spoke that you would be interested in being a soldier, if you will, of Irina Ivanova’s regime in a fight against The Masuda Corporation. Have you had any contact with her in the past week or so?”
SMITH JONES: “Confidential for the moment. No more questions.”
The monitor goes plain white and we fade to black.
