[Fade in.]
 

[A blue sky is what our initial camera shout is focused on. Fluffy white clouds are scattered about this Monday at the middle of a humid, Texan summer day. The suns blasting in at full force, it’s rays beaming through the closely cropped trees which is heavily leaved serving as some much needed protection against the relentless sun. The camera pans down. It’s summer, so you see what’d you’d expect. Kids are out n’ about the park, the pre-teen boys horse-playing, the teenagers are seated lazily on the bench shaded partially (the trees again) from the suns rays talking amongst themselves, the adults sit on the benches adjacent to the kiddy park, swings, miniature slides, monkey bars, and a seesaw to boot keeping an eye out on the young ones as they socialize.]

[These are happy days for the general public, youthful ones, anyway. And why not? No school. Less responsibility. More fun obviously. But, one man who’s got a job year round. Who doesn’t have “vacations”. And quite frankly, he doesn’t want any and probably couldn’t survive any extended ones either. He lives for the industry. Wrestling’s all he’s got. Here he sits, on the park bench, sweating like a dog, drenching in the light grey sweatsuit in his perspiration.] 

[At the climax of the day Michael Bold is out jogging, working on gaining more stamina and gas in the tank if you will. He’s taking a breather now, seated on an unoccupied park bench. His heavy breathes push strands of his air upward. Gradually, his breath returns. He uncorks a bottle of water that takes a gulp. He swishes the water around and then spits it out on the grass. His hair is pulled back tightly in a ponytail and for the most part stays out of his face. Aside from the strands purposely styled to fall across his face, of course. For now, he tucks them behind his ear as he returns the bottle next to him on the bench seat.]

[His deep dark eyes scan the area as he begins to orate…]

So, here I am, Trent. In the park. In the midst of the populous enjoying their insignificant little lives. I see them with their little kids, playing. Socializing with each other about whatever happened on some dumb TV show last night. Great f[bleep]ing life. Goodie for them, and goodie for you Trent. Their higher purpose is watching 7th Heaven and yours is spreading the “word” through the forum of wrestling. Yes Trent, use the WRESTLING industry -- of all places -- to preach about your beliefs. 

Sure, you probably get that whole “what the hell are you doing here” rhetoric all the time. But, for the sake of logic I’m going to beat the proverbial dead horse just one more time. 

[For the first time, he looks directly at us.]

Because that so totally makes sense by some twisted logic; of all the places to send your message the bloodthirsty wrestling industry would be atop of “places to preach list”. Okay, fine. I’ll let that loophole go by even though I can drive a bus or two through it. Because we know the TRADITIONAL way of touching people with God’s message is like, in a wrestling ring, not in like somewhere CONVENTIAL like a CHURCH. Oh lord know. 

Let’s get to a more pressing matter you presented, Trent: your “life”. See Trent, I know you’re a smart guy. No sarcasm there buddy [roll of eyes]… anyhow, what I’m say is Preacher-man with your astronomically high IQ I must say your whole “you lifeless and pathetic” spiel sucked big, sweat, grapefruits. Hey, this is wrestling genius. Last time I checked, this was a WRESTLING ORGANIZATION. Lo and behold, LSW and NEWS and MSW pay your bills with those hefty checks and put food on the table for that kid of yours born outta wedlock, doesn’t it? 

I had a life too once, you know. A wife and house with kids and a caravan. She bolted. SHE left, therefore I have absolutely nothing but wrestling. I find solace in my wrestling because my life isn’t right outta a bad grade-B action movie or a Disney Channel sitcom. All right. If I’m pathetic for that, that I’m the most pathetic f[bleep]k every to disgrace existence. I admit it. I am totally pathetic. I’m pond scum. I’m trash. I’m egotistical, arrogant, superficial, and to tell you the truth that doesn’t SCRATCH the surface of the bad qualities I posses. Oh no, not nearly. But you lofty moral standards I’m the living embodiment evil. 

[He smirks.]

Right. 

That’d be all well and good if your logic was, uh, logical… tough concept for a guy who’s to busy putting himself up on a pedestal bragging about his “higher” responsibilities to figure out, isn’t it? I mean, Trent Shylax is a God-send. He’s so worthy of everyone’s undivided attention that even the almighty GOD gave him the toughest job EVER! In existence! Harder than building the F[bleep]ING PYRAMIDS! Of course none of that Ten Commandments stuff apply to HIM. Not only does he beat people up for a living, make money off of it, showcase himself to MILLIONS of fans who are subjected to see the “King of All Hypocrites” beat the tar out of a man and get on the mic thereafter and say, “thou shalt not kill” but then he blows of his worldly profession of choice as “superficial”. 

Huh? What? Is that a contradiction? Is our beloved Trent Shylax just a crazy mofo with no concept of morality? 

[He covers his mouth in mock shock.]

No! Couldn’t be! 

I mean, people far less moral have spoken out against wrestling. But, it’s OKAY, hell, it’s A-OKAY for TRENT to get the checkered flag to do EVERYTHING I DO but because he has a “higher purpose” everything’s just peachy keen for him. Hey Trent, I went to Church every Sunday for my WHOLE LIFE and I don’t need to ask my priest “if wrestling’s right”. What the hell? Who are you trying to fool, asshole? I may be a little insane in the membrane if you know what I mean but one thing I’M NOT is totally brainless. 

I see right through you. 

Wrestling may be my life. My entire purpose. But yours? It’s just to be a hypocrite and a living contradiction. And Trent, buddy, you’re doing a great job at it. Don’t mind me, just ignore the facts and argue the opinions. That sure works for most of my opponents. 

[Bold shakes his head grinning. He’s certainly enjoying himself.]

You know Trent, YOU disgust ME. 

Really you do. 

I mean, does holding people at gun-point you own special way of promoting God’s work? Well, is it? 

[Shrugs.]

I figured that woulda been a sin, you know? But oh no. We’ll just totally ignore it because it doesn’t serve your purpose to berate. So, let’s just totally forget it, right? Wrong. I won’t over look it. And I won’t allow your gullible fans to be fooled because you drop a few insults on the hated Bold so they’ll cheer their little heads of not having the slightest of clue that you’re the biggest hypocrite alive. Sure, it’s unoriginal to play the hypocrite card. I’m sure you here it a lot. 

[Swig of the water bottle.]

But, really, there just MUST be a logical reason behind that. 

First and foremost, Trent, there’s absolutely no COINCIDENCE that people from all walks of life are calling you a hypocrite. Even people who are REALLY trying to spread the message disliked you. Just because no one has been able to stroll into the ring, beat you fair and square doesn’t mean you aren’t what you are. As you said, wrestling’s pales into comparison to your “life”. Whether someone defeats you are falls before in the ring doesn’t validate whether or not you’re a hypocrite or not. 

Because, it’s quite obvious that you are. There’s no denying it. So, if there’s some witty retort with the rapid-fire insults demeaning my non-existent life and superficial perceptions like “I’m not a hypocrite, everyone who’s said that has lost to me” is about as validating to your argument as this East Texas Title is to my career. On a man to man level I’m only gunning for this title because they’re something to prove to MYSELF. I surely have nothing to a contradictory hypocrite such as yourself. Maybe I’m trying to show those throngs of fans that cheer you nowadays that hey, I can totally dismantle and humiliate your Champion of Morality by beating him to the punch – that being that “half of secondary” title to paraphrase our emotionally deep friend, Trent Shylax.

[Bold sighs a sorrowful sigh.]

Now, as much fun as it was picking you apart Trent I must move on. 

You obviously weren’t any challenge on an intellectual level simply because you actually, in your heart of hearts HONESTLY believe what you’re doing is God’s work. I say, and more importantly, conventional logic says: you LOSE on this front Trent my man. And, by the way Trent, his name is DANZING. Sure, he’s an insignificant speck who oh so barely shows up on my radar but at least show the man the common courtesy of pronouncing his name correctly, will ya?

[Bold rises to his feet.]

Ah yes, JD Danzing. LSW’s favorite goofball. 

You’re a good wrestler. But, good’s on more of a Lee Clark level. You remember Lee? Yes yes, I’m sure you do remember the “Starman” quite well. As Trent pointed out in his furious tirade “hey buddy, were over here”.

[Waves.]

We know you’re dumb. After all, you did lose to Lee Clark. Wise up, will you? Snap out of it. Get a brain transplant, do something for chrissakes. Man, I can’t even call it a mental breakdown because in all honestly you seem to actually, genuinely, BE like this ALL THE TIME. Amazing. Stupidity at it’s absolute finest. What a waste of talent. 

[Shakes his head disgustedly.]

As for Lee Clark… 

[Deviously is the old word that can describe Bold’s slight smirk.]

Just do your job. 

You sure wouldn’t want to go out of your way to me me mad, would you? 

You know me well enough to realize that getting on my bad side is the LAST thing you’d wanna do. I’ll see you at Massacre, Lee.

[Bold turns, the gravel crunching beneath his feet as he jogs off steadily through the twisting and turning path.] 

[Done.]