* The scene opens inside of what appears to be an outdoor shopping mall in Darlington, England. A stage is set up on the first floor with a large banner near the top of the stage using Stu E Price’s image as the main attraction. A crowd of people are seen gathered in front of the stage carrying a variety of memorabilia celebrating Price’s career. A few seconds later the speakers placed near the front of the stage begin to play “Kashmir” and the crowd directs their undivided attention towards the closed curtain. A cloud of smoke is seen from behind the curtain while the fans eagerly await the arrival of their hometown hero *
Fan: What’s the bloody holdup?!
Fan #2: Yea! We gonna see Price today or not?!
* The curtains move and to the crowd’s surprise they look straight ahead towards the stage gaining sight of none other than the HWA All Star Champion, Michael James. He has a Cuban cigar gripped between his teeth and the All Star Championship draped over his shoulder. A few cameras are seen set up around the stage. The crowd begins to verbally insult him while tossing random pieces of garbage towards the stage. James smiles towards the angered mob before removing the cigar from his mouth. He looks towards the center of the stage and spots a custom made throne style chair arranged for Price’s rumored appearance. James approaches the chair and casually sits down without a car in the world. He ashes his cigar, reaches inside of his jacket and pulls out a microphone *
Michael James: Unfortunately, Stu E Price couldn’t make it here today. It doesn’t matter if it was the result of a booking mistake on the behalf of management or Price’s obvious lack of responsibility; you aren’t going to be seeing that negligent piece of shit anytime soon. You want to know why? He doesn’t care about you anymore. He doesn’t care about paying respect to the ones that put him where he is today. I don’t know about you guys but that sounds like a lot of bullshit to me.
Fan: Bullocks!
Michael James: Excuse me?
Fan: You heard me, prick! Ask around and anyone here will testify that Price would never leave us high and dry. He’s a man of the people!
* James almost chokes on the cigar smoke after hearing the comment made by the fan in the front row *
Michael James: A man of the people? I’m sorry. Is that supposed to be a ####ing joke?
Fan: You can only wish, mate. He didn’t become the number one wrestler in England by turning his back on his own people.
Michael James: No, he became the “number one” wrestler in England by registering a stereotypical moniker with the copyright offices of London. He hasn’t earned a ####ing thing besides consistent degradation on his own behalf. If you want to buy into his manipulative bullshit and put him on that paperweight pedestal, be my guest. The people of Germany made the same mistake with Adolf and we all saw what happened there.
Fan #2: This wanker is out of his gourd, mates! Are you really trying to compare Price to the likes of Hitler, now?
Michael James: I’m doing what has to be done in order to establish sensible actuality. In other words I’m putting all bullshit aside while supplying a supreme dose of reality to people who refuse to listen to reason. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Unlike Price, I’m a man of my word. Unlike Stu E Price, I stand by the things I say I’m going to do no matter how difficult they prove to be. That’s why I’m the All Star Champion and he isn’t. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened here. Price abandoned you because he feels that he has moved past the point of paying dues. Personally, I could really care less about that. I didn’t sign with the HWA for the sole purpose of my own benefit. I’ve always been a company man so I gladly accept the responsibility of carrying the weight of the HWA on my shoulders the same way I do the All Star Championship. Stu E Price thinks he is better than you. He thinks he’s better than me. Hell, he thinks he’s the center of the ####ing universe. Think about it. What exactly did he do at Blood, Sweat and Tears? Nothing. He didn’t win the match. He didn’t walk out with any championships. So what the hell is the trying to prove by claiming false accomplishments?
Fan: He doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone!
Michael James: Really? And why is that?
Fan: ‘Cause Stu didn’t need some bloody victory over a newcomer to be the best around. It just comes natural for him. You’re the one that needed the win to move ahead, you oblivious prick!
* James tilts his head to the side and takes another drag from his cigar. He leans forward and removes the All Star Championship resting on his shoulder. He holds it up with the faceplate towards the crowd *
Michael James: At Blood, Sweat and Tears; everything came down to a simple choice for the Personification of Perfection. Secure a victory over Stu E Price the same way I could on any ####ing day of the week or become a part of HWA history by taking home the All Star Championship. Obviously, I made the right choice. Despite the claims made by Price and numerous others I could really care less about securing a victory over some mid card douche bag with no actual future in the company. When I said he was dead to me it wasn’t a ####ing joke. When I told the world that he is nothing more than a shadow in my rear view I wasn’t making the same false promises you hear from defeatist assholes like Bryan Deas. If I say something you can bet your ass it’s more than just my honest opinion. It’s a ####ing proclamation of truth coming from a man who holds the very future of the HWA in the palm of his hands.
* He leans back in his chair and places the All Star Championship across his lap. James takes another drag from the cigar. Suddenly, “Kashmir” starts to play on the speakers and the crowd begins to erupt. Michael James jumps out of the chair and looks around the stage for any sign of Stu E Price. A few seconds later we gain sight of a large shadowed figure as he appears from behind one of the curtains. The crowd continues to cheer for Price as the man walks towards the center of the stage. He is wearing a cheap blonde wig and tattered clothing similar to Price’s wardrobe. When the crowd discovers the man is an imposter they begin to reign down on him with negativity. The fake Stu E Price brings a microphone to his mouth *
Imposter: Oi! You…hold on.
* He reaches inside of his jacket and pulls out a stack of small white cards containing dialogue. He slowly reads from the card with a false English accent *
Imposter: You play too much bloody playstation and now I’m here in Dunlap…
Michael James: Darlington.
* The imposter looks up at James with a confused expression *
Imposter: The card says Dunlap. #### it.
* He says with a clear American accent *
Imposter: I’m here to show the people of Darlington why you have been ducking me for too long. It’s time for some bloody payback, mate.
* The imposter places the cards back into his pocket. He places the microphone on the floor of the stage. He looks up at James and moves towards him with limited effort. He gives James a feminine slap across the chest. James looks up at the imposter and breaks character by laughing out loud. He turns back and pokes the imposter in the chest. The imposter crashes to the floor. James looks down at the man *
Michael James: Okay, Price. Are we done here or are you up for more punishment?
Imposter: No. I submit because I am too weak of a man to contend with the likes of you. I probably should have known better. You bested me on multiple occasions so I know when I am beaten.
Michael James: And the truth shall set you free, Stu E Price.
* He reaches inside of his jacket and pulls out a bottle of expensive whiskey with a small wad of money attached with a rubber band. He hands the imposter the bottle and walks back to the chair. He returns to his seat and properly places the All Star Championship across his lap with the faceplate towards the crowd. He takes another drag from his cigar and exhales the smoke through his nostrils *
Michael James: Now, are you people satisfied or do you require further proof of my obvious dominance over your counterfeit icon? If so, feel free to do me a big favor by sending all of your requests to someone who truly gives a shit what you think or feel. I had my dose of that incompetent son of a b###h and now I have bigger things to worry about. Think about it. I’m the HWA All Star Champion. You know what that means, Price? Of course you don’t because you aren’t championship material. You’re ancient ####ing history that refuses to accept your current position in the pecking order. And don’t get me wrong. I can understand why you’re trying to revive your decaying career by riding my coat tails but that doesn’t mean I’m going to allow it. After everything was said and done at Blood, Sweat and Tears; I didn’t walk away from our match with some newfound respect for you, Price. I still see you as the lowly, untalented, speck of useless shit that refuses to take a ####ing hint. You know who I do respect? Me. You know why? I’m in class of my own. I’m undefeated. I’m a champion. I’m the most talented prospect to walk through the doors of the HWA even if you refuse to acknowledge my potential. But it doesn’t matter what you think. You’re at the back of the line and I’m at the front. I’m the new flagship name and you’re a busted ####ing leg. That’s just where your career is now. Accept your place or deny it. I really don’t care. Not everyone can live up to the job of being the company’s biggest embarrassment. But you know something? You seem to master that portrayal with ease, Price.
* The Price imposter belches out loud while lying on the floor of the stage. He takes another sip from the bottle *
Michael James: I’m not going to lie. There are times when I considered putting a shotgun to my head if it meant avoiding another one of the predictable promos you spit towards our match at Blood, Sweat and Tears. Your material is outdated and your attempt at any kind of intimidation is a ####ing joke. Like I said before, douche bag, your time has come and gone. All you have to look forward to is your much needed retirement from the business that doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. I know it’s not the way you wanted to end your career but that’s life for you, Price. Sometimes things don’t turn out the way we expect them to. In your case nothing turns out the way you expect because you’re a ####ing idiot. You want to know why things work out for me, Price? It’s because I’m that much better than you and everyone else. Heckler and Kosh couldn’t get the job done. You couldn’t get the job done at Blood, Sweat and Tears and neither could Judas Mercury. Unlike you assholes I’m a unique exhibition of flawless natural born talent. I’m a step above the rest and I won’t accept anything less when it comes to active competition. Bryan Deas? He’s a ####ing clown who couldn’t hold the world title for longer than a month. Mercury? I pinned the dumb bastard and took his championship in under five minutes. Price? Well, let’s just say I have better things to do. I don’t care who they are or what they’ve done in the past. I’m the future, I’m the champion and I’m the only name that matters in the HWA. People look at me and they say “that guy is going to be world champion one day”. You know what they say when they look at Bryan Deas and Stu E Price? Nothing. Because that’s exactly what those insignificant ####ers have become.
* A variety of people begin to gradually move away from the crowd. A few audience members are seen listening to James with positive interest *
Michael James: You might have been able to fool a few people but I refuse to be sucked into your bullshit, Price. At this point in my career the sky is the limit and I’m not going to allow a piece of shit like you to stand in my way of success. I’ve paid my dues and now I’m enjoying the benefits of the rewards I have earned. How about you, Price? What are you doing right now? Watching this promo with your thumb up your ass and your jaw on the floor? That’s what I thought. Do me a favor and after you have a chance to wipe away the drool, try to pick yourself up and find a way to strike back without boring me to death. I want you to give me the best promotion of your career in an attempt to prove why you still belong in the HWA. Then again, we both know you aren’t going to do that. You could display the performance of the decade and it wouldn’t be good enough to compete against one of my farts. If you just do the smart thing and keep my name out of your mouth things will be much easier for you, Price. I’m better than you and I’ve proven that more than once. I know it isn’t a simple concept to accept but it’s not like you have a choice in the matter. Just accept it and move on. Hang up your boots and appreciate the time you had in the spotlight. If you’re the quadruple world champ like you say you are then you should have no problem moving aside for the good of the company. Personally, I have a hard time believing you were a champion of any kind but who am I to judge your imagination? I might be a lot of things but a censor I am not. I believe that everyone should be open to free thought. That way we can easily separate proficient artists from the clueless douche bags like Stu E Price and Bryan Deas.
* James takes another drag from his cigar. He stands up and holds the All Star Championship at his side. He nods at the imposter giving him permission to leave the stage. He turns away from the crowd and prepares to make his exit. He turns back towards one of the stage cameras at the last second *
Michael James: You see this, Stu?
* He holds up the All Star Championship. The cameras cuts to a close up on the face championship showing his name engraved into the faceplate *
Michael James: My name isn’t etched into this championship in hopes that one day it will stick. Unlike you, I’m a legit title holder in the HWA where you’re still hoping to get by on a half assed moniker.
* The camera zooms back to the regular frame. James exhales a cloud of smoke from his nostrils and removes his sunglasses *
Michael James: I encourage you to continue doing that. Keep dragging your busted leg down the road to nowhere to see where you end up, b###h.
* Michael James drapes the All Star Championship over his shoulder and turns away from the camera leaving a cloud of cigar smoke in his path *
Fade Out
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