The Job: Steakhouse Tony

A MAKESHIFT WRESTLING LOCKER ROOM LOCATED BEHIND A HIGH SCHOOL GYM. VARIOUS ODDLY SHAPED PEOPLE IN ODDLY DESIGNED COSTUMES. A SMELL THAT CAN BE SEEN.

FRANKIE: (VOICE-OVER) Injuries are an unfortunate part of the job. Health insurance, however, is not.

CUT TO:

FRANKIE SIDELINES, A HEFTY, SWEATY MAN IN OVERSIZED, YET SOMEHOW STILL SNUG CLOTHING, HOLDS A MAKESHIFT CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE BELT.

FRANKIE: I’m Frankie Sidelines, and I’ve been in the wrestling business for almost twenty years.

CUT TO:

A THIN, SMALL LINE OF MOSTLY BORED PEOPLE QUEUE UP OUTSIDE THE GYM. SIGNS FOR “TETANUS CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING”, “RUSTED NAILS AND RAZOR BLADES MURDERFIGHT” HANG HERE AND THERE.

FRANKIE: (VOICE-OVER) You hate to see it. Nobody wants to get hurt.

VARIOUS WRESTLERS ATTEMPT, FAIL TO CONVINCE ANYONE TO PAY FOR AN AUTOGRAPH, HANDMADE TEE-SHIRT, PENCIL, OR EVEN A PHOTOGRAPH.

And we do what we can to not seriously hurt each other. This is a competitive sport, afterall. We’re not stand-up comedians.

CUT TO:

FRANKIE IN THE MAKESHIFT LOCKER ROOM, STILL CLUTCHING TO THAT MAKESHIFT CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE BELT.

FRANKIE: In the last two decades, I’ve seen a lot of men and women suffer horrible hospital bills and long-term gaps in their wrestling resumes.

WRESTLER #1 LIMPS INTO THE LOCKER ROOM, BLEEDING INCONSIDERATELY ALL OVER EVERYONE’S THINGS.

One time after a show, Steakhouse Tony needed twenty staples in his head after a woman confronted him in the parking lot, demanded a refund, and then tazed him when he told her he wasn’t even on the show.

WRESTLER #2, BLEEDING AND WITH SOMETHING CLEARLY STICKING OUT OF THEM, IS DRAGGED INTO THE LOCKER ROOM.

“Springboard” Steve Goodknees can’t walk anymore after he broke his back doing a quadruple hickory-smoked dive onto the concrete floor outside of the ring. But those fifteen people who bought tickets, though? They definitely got their money’s worth.

WRESTLER #3 IS WHEELED INTO THE LOCKER ROOM ON A MAKESHIFT GURNEY, FALLS OFF.

And there was that time Two-Timing Tim Philanderer was stabbed in the ring during a match by one of his wives. He lived, but he only has one kidney now. Shame, really.

WRESTLER #4, STUFFING THEIR FACE WITH A CAN OF BEANS, CLUTCHES AT THEIR CHEST, SLUMPS OVER DEAD.

Fortunately, I’ve somehow managed to go all these years without any serious injuries. Probably because I only come to watch and hangout with anyone who gives me the time of day. But I’m doing my part, ya know. Gotta show them it’s all worth it.

The Job: Rabid Frenzy

A BIRTHDAY PARTY IN SOMEONE’S BACKYARD. CHEAP, YET OVERPRICED PARTY DECORATIONS. EXHAUSTED ADULTS. UNMUZZLED CHILDREN OFF THEIR LEASHES.

RILEY: (VOICE-OVER) We don’t do it for the money. The Job is about passion. It’s about dedication to a craft. You can’t get into this business expecting fortune and glory. Mostly because the pay is shit.

CUT TO:

RILEY RABID, A HEFTY MAN IN PLEATHER, ADDRESSES THE CAMERA.

RILEY: My name is Riley Rabid, and I am one half of the tag-team “Rabid Frenzy”, along with my partner, Freddy Frenzy.

CUT TO:

TWO BACKYARD WRESTLERS, DRESSED IN TATTERED STREET CLOTHES AND NO PROTECTION, “COMPETE” IN A MAKESHIFT RING WITH MAKESHIFT WEAPONS. SEVERAL PARTY GUESTS WATCH.

RILEY WATCHES THIS FROM A SAFE DISTANCE.

RILEY: Look at those guys. Killing each other for free. That’s the difference between professionals and backyarders. This is our life. This is who we are, every day, all day. We aren’t a couple of “weekend warriors” looking to make a quick buck and a bad joke of the business, ya know.

WRESTLER #2 BEATS WRESTLER #1 WITH A VCR.

I mean, we do work weekends. Almost exclusively, now that I think about it. But that’s only because most shows are on the weekend.

CUT TO:

BACKYARD WRESTLER #1 TEARS OUT THE THROAT OF WRESTLER #2’S, CELEBRATES BY DRINKING THE BLOOD OF THEIR FALLEN FOE. PARTY GUESTS POLITELY CLAP.

RILEY: You’d never catch me doing that sort of thing for free. No, sir.

FREDDY FRENZY, A FLABBY MAN IN PLEATHER, WADDLES UP TO RILEY.

(TO FREDDY) How’d it go?

FREDDY: (HANDS RILEY A FIVER) I talked the mom into paying us half upfront.

RILEY: Nice.

FREDDY: Get ready. We’re up next.

RILEY PUTS ON A BIG, RED CLOWN NOSE.

RILEY: I’m always ready.

FREDDY PUTS ON A COlORFUL WIG AND RED NOSE.

FREDDY: Let’s do this.

THEY HIGH FIVE AND WADDLE OFF TO JOIN THE PARTY, HONKING HORNS AND GENERALLY CLOWNING IT UP.

The Job: Bobby Bloodhound

A PUBLIC PARK. BIRDS TWEET. PARENTS AND CHILDREN GATHER AND LOOK ON AT A SMALL GROUP OF STRANGELY DRESSED MEN AND WOMEN MAKING A MESS OF THE PLAYGROUND EQUIPMENT.

PERRY: (VOICE-OVER) Life is so… fragile, ya know? One moment, you’re here, binge-watching episodes of Quantum Leap. The next, people are finding your body in a shark cage suspended fifteen feet in the air, after having been the unwilling participant and prize in a Wrestler-on-a-Pole match between two rival factions, but then never let out of the cage because everyone else took off running when the fire marshall raided the place due to a lack of proper permits.

CUT TO:

“PRICKLY” PERRY PEARSON STANDS OUTSIDE THE MEN’S ROOM.

PERRY: I’m “Prickly” Perry Pearson, and we’re gathered here today to celebrate the life and career of our teacher, our friend, and our brother, Bobby Bloodhound.

CUT TO:

THE STRANGELY DRESSED MEN AND WOMEN GATHER AROUND A SMALL TOY WRESTLING RING WITH A MAKESHIFT URN IN THE CENTER.

PERRY: I first met Bobby when I was just twenty years old. I always dreamed of being a professional wrestler, and Bobby was the one who showed me the ropes. I mean that literally, too. My first day, Bobby charged me twenty dollars just to show me where they stored the ring ropes.

When I heard the news of Bobby’s passing, I knew we had to do something for him. So a bunch of us gathered up what little money we had and booked a show in Bobby’s honor at his second favorite stripclub.

Unfortunately, someone forgot to put down the deposit and we got bumped for a bachelorette party.

LIL’ PETE: (OFF) Sorry!

PERRY: Of course, that ultimately didn’t matter because someone else forgot to book the ring rental.

A PAUSE.

PERRY LOOKS AROUND, POINTS TO HIMSELF, GRIMACES.

CUT TO:

PERRY JOINS THE OTHER STRANGELY DRESSED MEN AND WOMEN AROUND THE TOY RING AND URN.

PERRY: Right. Where’s the ring bell?

EVERYONE LOOKS AT EVERYONE ELSE.

PERRY: So, we forgot the bell too? How are we supposed to do a ten-bell salute without a bell?

EVERYONE SHRUGS AND/OR NODS.

PERRY: Shit. (LOOKS AROUND) Hold on. I’ll be right back.

PERRY “RUNS” OFF.

CUT TO:

PERRY RETURNS WITH A TRASH BAG FULL OF CANS AND BOTTLES.

LIL’ PETE: What the hell is that?

PERRY: A trash bag full of cans and bottles, obviously.

LIL’ PETE: Isn’t that a bit disrespectful?

PERRY: We’re all here, dressed like a bunch of assholes in a public park, gathered around an old toy wrestling ring, with our dear friend’s ashes in an old shoebox, and all because we’ve utterly failed him in death as we failed him in life. So, I think we’re beyond having to worry about aesthetics, Lil’ Pete.

LIL’ PETE: Fair.

PERRY: Right… (CLEARS THROAT) We love you Bobby Bloodhound, we miss you, and we always will. Goodbye, Brother.

PERRY SHAKES THE BAG TEN TIMES, THE CANS AND BOTTLES RATTLE FROM WITHIN.

EVERYONE STANDS IN SILENT ATTENTION, INCREASINGLY EMOTIONAL WITH EVERY SHAKE AND RATTLE.

THE BAG TEARS OPEN ON THE LAST SHAKE, BOTTLES AND CANS SPILLING OUT EVERYWHERE.

PERRY: Shit.

The Job: Sack Lunch

A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING RING.

ENTER ANNOUNCER.

ANNOUNCER: (INTO MICROPHONE) In a high school gym in a town lost among the weed- and bramble-choked hills, where the streets are cracked and broken, and the people there… more or less the same as its streets, we present to you a tale of hurt, betrayal, and more hurt.

GENERIC ROCK MUSIC FILLS THE HIGH SCHOOL GYM.

ENTER TERRY OF THE GRAVEYARD, DRESSED AS A HUMBLE EMPLOYEE OF THE LOCAL CORNER DRUGSTORE.

Terry of the Graveyard, son of Gordie the Accountant and Breastua the Mighty, worker of the graveyard shift down at Nippleson’s Drug Emporium and Liquor Library, lover of pills, and sniffer of glue!

MUSIC CEASES.

ANNOUNCER HOLDS MICROPHONE AS TERRY SPEAKS INTO IT.

TERRY: (INTO MICROPHONE) Woe unto the poor soul who ate from my packed lunch which held mine reuben on marble rye, a baggie of cookies, and boxed juice of the fruit cocktail variety! Shame unto the damned, blasted, and damned soul who would take of my lunch without so much as reading my name that was clearly written in plain English on the brown sack in which it was held! And short be their days, as I, Terry of the Graveyard, seek not only reimbursement of lunch lost, but battle to satiate my hunger and blood to quench my thirst!

ANNOUNCER: (INTO MICROPHONE) What manner of beast or man or man or beast would take of another’s lunch so? Who among us dare to touch another man’s sack without permission?

TERRY: (INTO MICROPHONE) It was… It was… Oh, but it breaks mine heart in twain to say, but it was…

DIFFERENT GENERIC ROCK MUSIC PLAYS.

ENTER MANAGER MIKE.

ANNOUNCER: (INTO MICROPHONE) Mike, Manager of the Late Nights and occasionally of the evening when The One They Call Katie unexpectedly, yet expectedly calls out!

MUSIC CEASES.

MIKE: (INTO MICROPHONE) It is I, Manager Mike, and none other!

ANNOUNCER: (INTO MICROPHONE) Twas you who stole of the lunch engraved with the name of Terry of the Graveyard?

MIKE: (INTO MICROPHONE) Lies upon lies upon falsehoods upon unsubstantiated untruths!

TERRY: (INTO MICROPHONE) Nay! Twas Manager Mike who stole of my lunch and drank of my drink!

ANNOUNCER: (INTO MICROPHONE) If your personage is not of the thieving flavor, why does thou stand here before us when your shift is in but a few hours?

TERRY: (INTO MICROPHONE) Guilt pangs at his heart like so many cholesterols! Shame hardens his soul as his arteries do!

MIKE: (INTO MICROPHONE) My heart is free of guilt and blockages, and the only thing hardened is my resolve! If thou will not keep still thy lying tongue, then I shall remove it for thee!

TERRY: Have at thee!

ANNOUNCER EXITS THE RING.

A BELL RINGS.

MIKE AND TERRY AWKWARDLY HOLD, GRUNT, TICKLE, AND SLAP EACH OTHER ABOUT IN COMBAT!

A PHONE RINGS AND RINGS.

MIKE AND TERRY STOP MID-WRESTLE.

MIKE: Would someone please answer that?

TERRY: Yeah, it’s a bit distracting.

ANNOUNCER: Sorry. I’ve got it.

MIKE & TERRY: Thank you.

MIKE AND TERRY COMMENCE WITH THE WRESTLING.

ANNOUNCER EVENTUALLY ANSWERS THE PHONE.

ANNOUNCER: Hello? Hello. Hi. Right, sorry. Uh-huh? Uh-huh. Uh-huh… Okay. I’ll tell them. Bye.

ANNOUNCER HANGS UP, JUST AS MIKE AND TERRY STOP MID-WRESTLE.

TERRY: What was all that about?

MIKE: It better be important. We’re in the middle of a very serious blood feud at the moment.

ANNOUNCER: That was The One They Call Katie. She said her go-bloots is acting up again, and she needs you two to come in early so she can meet up with her old high school besties for a night of binge drinking.

MIKE AND TERRY CEASE WITH THE WRESTLING ALTOGETHER.

MIKE & TERRY: Boh!

The Job: “Cheapshot” Sandors

A STRIPMALL PARKING LOT.

SETH: (VOICE-OVER) This job isn’t for everyone, you know. It’s given me a lot, but it always gets its cut. Always.

CUT TO:

SETH “CHEAPSHOT” SANDORS, A MISSHAPEN POTATO OF A MAN SEEMINGLY DRESSED FOR HIGH SCHOOL GYM CLASS AND HOLDING A LARGE, HEAVY TEXTBOOK.

BARRY: I’m Seth “Cheapshot” Sandors, and I’ve been a pro wrestler for twelve years.

CUT TO:

SETH BEHIND A DUMPSTER.

SETH: I’ve lost friends and loved ones to this business, actually. I mean, I know where they are – they haven’t just disappeared into thin air, or something. Obviously.

Well, for example: My sister once hit me with her car for a chance at a free trip to Classy Lou’s All-You-Can-Eat Buffet. She didn’t get it, unfortunately. And she hasn’t answered my calls… or responded to my lawyer’s attempts to get her to pay my hospital bills.

And then there was the time my one-time best friend slept with my girlfriend just to get a psychological upperhand in a match I wasn’t even involved in. (BEAT) Which, now that I think about it, doesn’t make too much sense, really…

A SILENCE.

Oh, check this out…

SETH REVEALS SEVERAL DISTINCT SCARS.

(POINTS) This is where they replaced one of my ribs with a titanium rod for some reason. This one is from the time I took a VCR to the back of the head during a “Be Kind, Rewind” match. And this, uh… this is from an unruly class of twelve–year olds who all decided to throw their desks at me for asking them to, please, put away their phones and stop recording my crying from all the mean things they were saying to me. (NERVOUS LAUGHTER) Middle-schoolers, right?

ANOTHER SILENCE.

Anyway. I couldn’t go back to teaching middle-school English after that. (BEAT) Literally, I wasn’t allowed back on campus. But I also saw it as an opportunity to take my natural ability to absorb inhumane amounts of physical, mental, and emotional abuse and make something of myself. It’s all about making those opportunities for yourself.

That’s why I’m here, actually.

JOE, A MAN IN A WHEELCHAIR WITH A MAKESHIFT CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE BELT, PASSES BY.

Sorry, I’ve gotta clock-in real quick.

SETH SNEAK-ATTACKS JOE WITH THE LARGE, HEAVY TEXTBOOK.

(GESTURES) Come on! Come on!

REFEREE APPEARS OUT OF NOWHERE.

SETH PINS AN UNCONSCIOUS JOE WHILE A HORRIFIED CROWD WATCHES.

(TO REFEREE) Oh, stop staring and do your job!

REFEREE: (LIGHTLY SLAPPING THE PAVEMENT) One! Two! Three!

SETH STANDS, HOLDS UP THE MAKESHIFT CHAMPIONSHIP BELT IN VICTORY.

ANNOUNCER APPEARS OUT OF NOWHERE.

ANNOUNCER: Your new Calvin Carson’s Town Center and Outlet Mall Champion, Seth “Cheapshot” Sanderson!

EVERYONE LOOKS UPON THIS IN SILENT CONTEMPT.

Meteo’kar vs The Moonman

SFX: DING-DING! A BELL RINGS.

MUSIC: METEO’KAR: CHAMPION OF SPACE THEME. UP, UNDER.

ANNOUNCER: (VOICE-OVER) Watch! Right over there! It’s not an Eagle! It’s not a helicopter! No, you pencil-necked geek! It’s… (ECHOES) Meteo’kar, Champion of Space!

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) Neglected from an early age and raised by television, John “Twin-Beds” Joblonski dreamed of owning his own bookshop and raising miniature glass figurines on a small avocado farm in the valley. But fate had other plans…

MUSIC: THEME FADES.

SOUNDSCAPE: THE STILL SILENCE OF A LARGE, EMPTIED SPACE-ARENA ON THE MOON.

SFX: A MAN, EDWIN EUGENE “BUZZ” ALDRIN, STIRS AWAKE.

ALDRIN: (PAINED, CONFUSED) My head… What is… Where am I? Why is it so dark? (CONSIDERS THIS) Oh, no… This better not be one of those damned conspiracy conventions again!

KUR’TAHN: (PA SYSTEM) Baz Al’drin!

ALDRIN: It’s “Buzz”, you idiot! “Buzz” Aldrin! Not “Baz” and whatever else it is you said!

A SILENCE.

KUR’TAHN: (PA SYSTEM) Baz Al’drin, Champion of Earth!

ALDRIN: (SIGHS) Oh, for… Wait. “Champion of Earth”? What are you talking about?

KUR’TAHN: (PA SYSTEM) Behold, Baz Al’drin!

SFX: LARGE, HEAVY DOORS OPEN OVERHEAD.

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) On July 21st, 1969, Edwin Eugene “Buzz” Aldrin became the first man to walk on Earth’s moon.

ALDRIN: Oh, no… It can’t be. Is that…?

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) Tonight, he does it for the second time.

KUR’TAHN: (PA SYSTEM) For decades, you have reigned undefeated as Champion of Earth. Today, that reign comes to an end where it all began, right here, in the Unicorp Cigarettes and Firearm Memorial Lunar Arena and Amphitheater! Baz Al’drin, Champion of Earth, I challenge you to a–

RING ANNOUNCER: (PA SYSTEM) –Trailer Park Trash Deathmatch!

SOUNDSCAPE: A SMALL BUSTLING CROWD IN A SMALL LEGION HALL.

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) Meanwhile, in a Legion Hall somewhere in Fountain Valley…

ZACH: Golly! I can’t believe Johnny accepted this match!

RONNIE: Oh, Zach! I know it’s been his dream of winning the Fountain Valley World Wrestling Championship ever since the bookstore mysteriously caught fire and he lost the avocado farm, but Johnny’s crazy for agreeing to this! Absolutely farting crazy!

ZACH: Don’t you worry, Ronnie! Johnny’s the greatest wrestler in all of Fountain Valley, and he’s gonna prove it!

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) Ronnie Sweetheart, grown woman and John’s best gal, sits nervously at ringside with John’s best pal and very much a grown man, Zach Supportingrole. Together, they and everyone else in that cramped, odd-smelling Legion Hall remain blissfully unaware of the danger lurking on the moon above… 

SFX: RING MUSIC. UP, UNDER.

RING ANNOUNCER: (PA SYSTEM) On his way to the ring, weighing I don’t know how many pounds, from I can’t be assed to remember, Johnny “Twin-Beds” Jablonski!

SFX: CROWD CHEERS. UP, UNDER.

SFX: JOHN ENTERS, KISSES HANDS, SHAKES BABIES.

ZACH: Knock his block off, Johnny!

JOHNNY: Can do, best pal o’ mine!

RONNIE: Extinguish the light in his eyes and watch him slip into oblivion, Johnny!

SILENCE. THEN…

JOHNNY: Wow. That’s dark, Ronnie. Way too dark…

RING ANNOUNCER: (PA SYSTEM) And his opponent… (BEAT) I’m sorry, what? He did what? Oh… Yeah. Yeah, sure. Go ahead.

SFX: MICROPHONE FEEDBACK.

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) Hi. This is “Medium Pete” Peterski, owner of Fountain Valley Pro Wrestling and Car Detailing Service. I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news.

SFX: CROWD UH-OHS.

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) “Uh-oh,” indeed. Despite my best efforts to assure him that he would, in fact, be paid for this month’s show, our beloved Fountain Valley World Champion, Tony “Two Thumbs” Pulcini, couldn’t afford the gas to get here today.

SFX: CROWD BOOS.

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) Per regulations, I officially strip Tony “Two Thumbs” Pulcini of the Fountain Valley World Wrestling Championship Title, effective immediately.

SFX: CONFUSED CROWD NOISES.

RONNIE: Oh, Zach! But what about Johnny and his dream of becoming the Fountain Valley World Wrestling Champion?

ZACH: You’re right, Ronnie! (TO PETE) Hey, Medium Pete! We all came here to see Johnny win that title and live his dream!

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) Wait. Really?

JOHN: I mean, it’s more of a backup plan. But, yeah. I guess so.

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) Huh. That’s depressing.

JOHN: (AGREEABLE GRUNT)

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) Well… I guess Twin-Beds can have it, if everyone else is cool with that.

SFX: CROWD CONSIDERS THIS.

FAN: (TO CROWD) Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay, I’ll tell him. (TO PETE) Yeah, that’s fine with us.

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) Cool, cool. (TO RING ANNOUNCER) Hey, do the, uh… Do the thing, I guess.

RING ANNOUNCER: (PA SYSTEM) The what?

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) You know – the thing.

RING ANNOUNCER: (PA SYSTEM) I don’t… No, I don’t get… Oh, that. Right. No, no. I get it now. (TO CROWD) Your winner by lack of funds and new Fountain Valley World Wrestling Champion, Johnny “Twin-Beds” Jablonski!

SFX: CROWD CHEERS.

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) Also, no refunds.

ZACH: See, Ronnie! I told you he’d do it!

RONNIE: Oh, Johnny!

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) But as Johnny, his best pal, his best gal, and the several dozen mildly entertained, yet equally disappointed fans in attendance celebrated this tragically terrible display of storytelling and craftsmanship, a strange, yet annoying light filled the Legion Hall.

SFX: A STRANGE, YET ANNOYING LIGHT SOUND.

ZACH: Jimminy, Ronnie! What’s with that crazy light?

RONNIE: I don’t know, Zach! But there’s something not quite a fish, not quite a cuttlefish coming out of it!

KUR’TAHN: (SNARLS) Where is the one they call, “Twin-Beds”?

JOHNNY: I, uh… I guess that’s me.

KUR’TAHN: While you celebrate and glorify your overabundance of sleeping apparatuses in this forsaken temple, I, Kur’tahn J’kar, have defeated this world’s true champion!

SFX: KUR’TAHN DROPS SOMETHING THAT SOUNDS SUSPICIOUSLY LIKE A DECAPITATED HEAD.

JOHNNY: My god…

ZACH: Is that what I think it is?!

RONNIE: It’s the de-bodified head of beloved astronaut and first man on the moon, Edwin Eugene “Buzz” Aldrin!

KUR’TAHN: Yes, Baz Al’drin… Imagine my surprise when I received word that another was claiming to be this world’s champion – my title, won fairly in direct combat, as–

JOHNNY: Look, Buddy! I don’t care who you are or what promotion you work for – this is my show…

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) Well. It’s actually my show, but…

JOHNNY: …and this is my Fountain Valley World Wrestling Championship Title!

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) Also, my belt. I paid for it.

JOHNNY: And you ain’t getting a shot at it or me until Pete over there pays me for tonight and books this place for another show once he finds the money for the deposit!

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) I’m going to be honest: by the look of tonight’s gate, it’s probably not going to be anytime soon…

KUR’TAHN: (SNARLS) Your fiscal failings and lack of marketing savvy is of no concern to me! Prepare to be pinned or possibly submit in shame!

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) But as Kur’tahn’s mighty claw struck Johnny’s chest, impressively muscled for his age and level of dedication…

KUR’TAHN: (ROARS) 

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) …it shattered like glass on something hard!

SFX: KUR’TAHN’S CLAW/HAND SHATTERS.

KUR’TAHN: (PAINED CRIES)

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) And Johnny, powered by the raw energy of the forty or so mostly paying audience members in attendance…

JOHNNY: (GROWLS)

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) …severs Kur’tahn’s head from the rest of his body with a single punch!

SFX: THE SEVERING OF A HEAD FROM A BODY WITH A SINGLE PUNCH.

A SILENCE. THEN…

RONNIE: Huh. I didn’t see it working out that way.

ZACH: I think I’m going to be sick…

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) (TO RING ANNOUNCER) Ring it. Ring the bell.

SFX: BELL RINGS.

MEDIUM PETE: (PA SYSTEM) Your winner and new Fountain Valley Wrestling Champion of Earth, Johnny “Twin-Beds” Jablonski!

SFX: CROWD CHEERS.

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) But as Johnny looked on at the bloody devastation in the ring and the crowd chanted his name…

CROWD: John-ny Twin-Beds! (CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!) John-ny Twin-Beds! (CLAP, CLAP, CLAP!)

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) …another strange, yet annoying light filled the legion hall!

SFX: A STRANGE, YET ANNOYING LIGHT SOUND.

SFX: CROWD GASPS!

ZACH: What in the world?!

RONNIE: Zach! Look! Johnny is…!

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) And as the light faded and their sight returned, Johnny “Twin-Beds” Jablonski was gone.

MUSIC: METEO’KAR: CHAMPION OF SPACE THEME. UP, UNDER.

ANNOUNCER: (VOICE-OVER) Where did Johnny go? Will Ronnie and Zach ever see him again? And what exactly is with alien professional wrestlers from the moon and the severing and exploding of heads? Find out next time, maybe, on the next installment of… (ECHOES) Meteo’kar, Champion of Space!

SFX: DING-DING! A BELL RINGS.

FADE OUT.