Post by Michael Callahan on May 18, 2012 17:06:02 GMT -4
When I first decided I was going to be a pro wrestler I had one thing on my mind. Cold. Hard. Cash. All this sport was to me was a glorified, paid combination of activities that I'd been excelling in since I was fourteen years old. Giving speeches loud and proud and mat-wrestling to the best of my abilities as I tried all that I could to springboard my way to high office in my beloved Republican Party is what I'd been doing my entire way through high school, never mind at Yale. Wrestling to me was simply a side-job for me to take on to keep a roof over my head while I worked towards my eventual destiny of being a part of the party that would bring this country into a brand new golden age. Or heck, who knows? Maybe even leading the movement as a future United States President.
It was building on the skills and tools I already had and actually giving me a little bit of practice to help me take the next step. Not only was I getting the opportunity to brush up my charismatic chops and engage in debates with the rest of the locker room in front of a live studio audience who would tell me if I was right or wrong, I was pushing my body to the limits with my daily exercises that gave me the body I have today. Not too big, not too skinny but agile, flexible and just powerful enough to make the Victory Lock the unbreakable submission hold that it is today. When you look at it like that, wrestling is the best thing for a man to do after the end of his career as a United States Marine.
It wasn't until I set foot in an Action Packed Wrestling ring ready to compete for the first time that I realised how quickly attitudes can change and how completely wrong I had been about my approach.
On January 29th, 2012 I made my baby steps into the wrestling ring, a world with which I was not yet familiar. I came out of those curtains as an unknown, having only ever been seen once in a US wrestling ring before. Nobody knew my name, nobody gave a damn about who I was. I was just fresh meat ready for the big cats to tear up. Ready to make up the numbers of piling up corpses in Asylum's refuse. In a championship scramble against four long-time veterans I almost immediately realised that not only did nobody really like me, nobody even thought I had a chance of winning.
Nobody... except me.
With every chop, every Suplex, every hold and slam in my arsenal used I scratched and clawed my way across the finish line. I spent every last ounce of my internal resolve to bring myself up to the standards of four very dangerous competitors and with some quick thinking, an incredibly close call and one of the strongest showings you've ever seen in your life I became the first man ever in APW to win a championship in his debut contest. I put the whole world on notice with one simple move and made not just the fans, not just my competitors, not just management but myself realise something absolutely fundamental. “Michael Callahan is the real deal.”
Ever since then I've been completely enamoured with this noble sport. Obsessed even. I became not just Michael Callahan, the aspiring politician and the Yale-grad wannabe wrestler. I became an American Hero, a duly elected wrestling representative, a campaign trail-blazer and the first ever “Pro Life Champion” on a crusade to rebuild the industry in my own perfect little utopian vision. I developed a motherly instinct to want to nurture this company back to the sport of pride that it used to be all while under the scrutiny of many, MANY critics who thought I was conceited, arrogant and deluded. To steal a line from one of my all time favourite films, I became not the hero that wrestling wants but the hero that wrestling needs.
Every time I step out of the curtains and into the flashing lights and the noises you see a persona. You see a caricature of the American far right. You see a man so wrapped up in his own arrogance that he is completely oblivious to the little things around him plotting his obvious, predictable downfall. Yet deep down inside of me I'm completely cognate. I know exactly what's going on. I'm always planning, biding my time and waiting for the opportunities presented to strike with the uncontaminated, celestial power of my raw genius. Three months after my arrival later I am yet to find a man competent enough to press my shoulders down to the mat for a three count, a man powerful enough to put me under substantial duress to hand in my submission or simply to utter the words “I Quit”.
Now fate conspires once again and the fickle audience I call my constituents and the hornets I label as critics have cast their doubts over my abilities once again. The game has come full circle and I now return to exactly the point at which I started. When I arrived nobody believed that I could ride the tidal wave of pressure rising above me but despite this I soldiered on and proved myself with a string of constant victories, marred only by the incompetence of tag team partners who couldn't keep up with my world class level of performance. Although it's been a pleasant three months of nothing but passionate support from the electorate, the popular ballot has once again forsaken me in that no longer do my people believe I am capable of rising to the challenge set before me.
I guess people just haven't learnt that I'm at my most dangerous when I'm the only person believing in myself. Just like on that fateful night when I became the Suicidal Champion. When it's me against the world and yet I'm still losing ground, it's there in my isolation that I find the strength to continue. It's fitting that the mightiest contender to the legacy that no man can kill is a woman, yet not even her charm, physicality and power will be able to handle what I have prepared for her...
… And that's a promise.
Boom.
Back to the real world.
Silver and chrome glimmer alluringly in Michael Callahan's almost futuristic kitchen as the smell of freshly baked cookies straight out the oven shroud the scent of his fear. Accompanied by his two friends, the Southern P.I. Buddy Mulholland and hot-shot L.A. criminal prosecutions lawyer Chris Lawson, his culinary efforts are a base attempt to appease the ravishing appetites of his guests. With no Bethany Monroe to prepare any sweet treats for Michael and his friends, he's had to take matters into his own hands and so with the help of a rather old cook book inherited from Callahan's gramma and the occasional tid-bit of direction from Vikki Lahm he has just about managed to put together a fine batch of baked snacks for him and his friends.
Chiefly the intention behind Callahan's culinary efforts is one of good will in wanting to give his guests a warm welcome once again to his home as well as practice his skills now that he's technically a bachelor again. More importantly though his baking is a subtle attempt at an apology without words after the way in which their friendships had broken down following Buddy's successful investigation into the adulterous behaviour of his ex-fiancé Bethany Monroe. Doubtful at first, he was positively incandescent with rage upon seeing the evidence. Torrents of coarse language, tears and threats of violence despite Callahan's encouragement to find out the truth was the last memory they'd had of their visits to his home and so it is important to all of them that this visit has fonder memories.
Michael Callahan: So... How are they?
He watches with baited breath as Buddy and Chris simultaneously try one of his baked delights. Gauging their reactions carefully, Callahan knows that his self-esteem for the rest of the day will be built upon their scrupulous judgment. With raised eyebrows and surprised, pleasurable grunts of approval Michael can rest easy knowing that he's won them over with his cookies.
Michael Callahan: Not bad eh?
Buddy Mulholland: You ain't bad Mike! I'd defur-nit-ly eat a few more a' those. Where'd you get the recipe?
Chris Lawson: These are really good. However I would like to highlight a serious point. Is there a reason you're pandering to us, making us treats when you really DO have better things to be doing? I get that you want to make it up to us after you freaked your ass out when we showed you those pictures of Beth but certainly I could understand why you'd react in those circumstances. Why are you wasting time in the kitchen when you could be training in the gym with me and getting ready for your big match at Mayhem?
Sauntering towards the fridge with the most confident of smiles, Callahan pulls out a bottle of 1% milk and brings it back along with three glasses to supplement his oven treats.
Michael Callahan: Because I'm already trained up enough. Every morning I spend in the big gym down town, pumping all that iron Lawson. I'm more than ready for this vile harpie.
Chris Lawson: That's a bunch of BS Callahan and you know it. You have a home gym. Do you think while you're standing here, moping and baking stuff Sally isn't wailing on a punching bag with your face glued to it? She's one of the finest wrestlers of this generation. Don't take her so lightly.
Michael Callahan: This generation? Pft, everyone knows she's one hundred years old and used to live with the dinosaurs. She is nowhere near on my level.
Chris Lawson: I'm sorry, did you see her mess up Level One funtime? Even you accept him as one of the greatest of all time and she ripped him a new one.
Disregarding the warnings of his lawyer friend, it's actually Buddy Mulholland who's revelation grabs the attention of everyone in the room next.
Buddy Mulholland: I remember when a little fella I went to eluh-men-tary wit' called Michael Callahan said dis girl in his class wuz about a hundre'. Turns out he ended up datin' her and almost married to her, a real high school sweet-harrrt.
Chris Lawson: Wait. He said that about Bethany? Well ain't that a coinkydink...
Completely on the ball, Callahan immediately gets defensive and tries to defuse the situation as he anticipates the direction the conversation is going.
Michael Callahan: Don't be vile! Of course I didn't!
Buddy Mulholland: He did! He did! And look at them rosy red cheeks raht there! He got a crush on the enemy!
Turning his back on his friends and walking to the sink to disguise his bright red face, he thrusts his arms theatrically in a cry of outrage.
Michael Callahan: That is preposterous! A crush on Sally Talfourd, really. Are you out of your mind?
Chris Lawson: He's not lying. You've gone as red as the tomato ketchup that you spilt on Bethany at the seniors ball in college.
Michael Callahan: Oh my, you gentlemen are pathetic. You think I'd have a crush on that ghastly looking reptile? From Seattle no less? I have more taste than that.
Buddy Mulholland: Opposites attract boy, that's why yew and me er such good friends.
Michael Callahan: That argument is invalid. I don't want to have sex with you.
Chris Lawson: Not with him, but with Sally? Definitely. This is what all this is about isn't it? You LIKE her.
Buddy Mulholland: He LURRRRVES 'er.
It all gets a little bit childish for Callahan who tries in vain to dismiss the motion with the layer of pretentiousness only he can muster.
Michael Callahan: Ugh... Really?
Chris Lawson: It makes a lot of sense. You're constantly doing whatever you can to get under her skin because you want to get into her skin. If she was really so old and irrelevant you wouldn't even bother speaking to her but instead you're constantly bombarding her Twitter with abusive comments, harassing her backstage and refusing to fight her where possible because you don't want to hurt her.
Michael Callahan: Refusing to fight her? I think you'll recall I outright accepted her challenge! How dare you say otherwise?
Buddy Mulholland: Only after she swindled yer ass outta' a hundred bucks, an' you realised dat ye got more in common than ya' thought and that ya'd look stupid if ya' didn't. Face it child, you gots da hots for that pretty lady. I can't say I blame ya. She's hawt.
Chris Lawson: Believe it or not Michael, I actually watched Asylum last week. I watch it most weeks and I see what you do on Twitter. You call her things like sweetheart, honey bee, sugar, ALL the time even when you're giving her the mother of all ear aches.
Michael Callahan: I'm belittling her as a woman wrestler! You can't seriously take those blatantly condescending comments as evidence of some whimsical crush!
Chris Lawson: Then why? What's got the bees so deeply entrenched in your bonnet with her that you simply can't avoid trying to psychologically abuse her?!
The fuse finally runs out and Callahan finally explodes once more. Roaring and flailing his arms like a punch-drunk dinosaur he hopes to influence his friends opinions but sadly his performance falls flat.
Michael Callahan: I do it because I can't STAND her. She's old and irrelevant and she's got beautiful hair and everyone thinks she's so great just because she won the Undisputed Champion once and because she's got nice eyes! Well y'know what? Screw that! She is nothing to me... NOTHING! I'm gonna' go the gym and I'm gonna' lift more than I've ever lifted before!
Chris Lawson: No, Michael! Don't change the subject. You can't stand her because you can't HAVE her. You knew as soon as you set foot with that disrespectful jive-talk and shooting smack about how you're the greatest that she'd instantly be put off you. You did it and once you met her, you'd realise it was too late...
Chris Lawson: Am I wrong still, Einstein?
Realisation finally sinks in and Callahan's resolve quickly falls. Slinking down 'til his face slumps across the kitchen counter he groans in sheer heartfelt agony. He didn't even realise it but he knows now that they're right...
Michael Callahan: Oh my God...
Buddy Mulholland: Whut's the matter?
Michael Callahan: You are so right and I didn't even know it.
Chris Lawson: HAHA! Yes! Fifty bucks, Buddy. Cough it up! I so called this!
With a sigh of discomfort the surly southerner starts rifling through his pockets to try and grab his dusty old leather wallet. Pulling it out along with a handful of ten dollar bills he begrudgingly coughs up the proceeds to his professional friend who's goofy grin and euphoria at winning this “bet” baffles Michael.
Michael Callahan: You put money on this?
Chris Lawson: I did. Thanks for helping me out there. But because I'm not a complete bastard and good with the ladies I'm gonna' try and help you out.
Michael Callahan: You are?
Chris Lawson: I think you should go find her and tell her how you feel. Lament about the entire saga. Tell her you didn't mean a word of it but your total lack of emotional maturity and inability to appreciate how you might respond to it meant that you didn't think she'd react well so you did the instinctive, stupid thing and lashed out at her. If you word it right which given how charismatic you are you should have no problem doing you should have her in your bed by sunset.
Callahan's breathing deepens with intense focus as he draws up the schematics of what Chris is trying to instruct him to do inside his head. A few rough mental calculations and a puzzled expression later and it's surprisingly the politician, not the lawyer who's giving the verdict.
Michael Callahan: First of all, that's a horrific idea. Second of all, it's not about having her in my bed. It's about her. At first my attraction was entirely physical. But then she... fixed me when I was most broken. When my relationship collapsed with Bethany and I went doolally, you had The Studmuffins who mocked me and paraded my bare ass cheeks for all to see. Then you have this amazing woman who comes out, belittles me in front of everyone but gives me the pep-talk I need to bring me back down to Earth. Without her getting involved, I could be upside down, dead and covered in a vomit in a gay bar.
Chris Lawson: I think you're exaggerating a touch there, Michael. If she means that much to you then you should go talk to her about how you feel. Chicks dig the sensitive stuff.
Michael Callahan: The ship had sailed before I'd even realised it was in the dock, Chris. I'm not going to do that.
Buddy Mulholland: Well wutcha gunna do instead Mike? Sit there, cry over her again or man up and go tell her the truth and maybe get yourself outta' the ass kickin' of your life time?
Michael Callahan: I'm going to do... neither of those things. I'm going to learn life's lessons the hard way and take that bruising that I am duly entitled to. Matter of fact... I'm not much of a masochist but.. I'm gonna' go right ahead and go do what I do best. Poke the hornets nest further with a little smear campaigning.
Chris Lawson: Awh hell no!
---
In front of a live studio audience consisting mostly of small children we see a live stage performance of “Asylum”. There's no backdrop or scene, just a purple curtain while various caricatures of APW superstars do their own thing in their own spaces. Our three caricatures include a man in jean shorts with tattoos, a bandana and scruffy hair who's supposed to be an artists interpretation of Jason Kash. Along with him is a pretentious art-critic looking type in a waistcoat drinking out of a cup and saucer and a fairly good looking man with a suit and wide eyes. These are meant to be Julius Farquhar and Anthony Bailey, respectively. From behind them comes a rather chunky looking girl in a bright pink tutu with pigtails. No prizes for guessing who this is.
Fat Girl With Pig Tails: Hai derrr guise! It's me, Sally Talfourd! Only, I've got no friends! Why does nobody like me?
Kids start booing as an evil, chunky, red-faced creeper with a ponytail and a laptop makes his way onto the stage oinking and snarling and stuffing his face with a buffalo wing.
Fat Guy With A Ponytail: HERRRHERRR. -oink- HEY CUTIEPIE. Why don't'cha go -oinkoink- and tell everyone lies about who you really are? Like me, The Real F'N Deal Terry Marvin!
Fat Girl With Pig Tails: That sounds like a GUH-REAT idea! Lemme try it!
Back on stage we see the Kash double holding a skull and reciting Shakespeare for no particularly explained reason.
Skinny Redneck Dude W/ Bandana and Buzzcut: Alas poor Yorick, I knew him, Horatio!
Guy In A Waistcoat Drinking Tea: Reppin' up the Earl Gray. Shiiiit!
Stylish Looking Young Man With Dreams in his Eyes: CONGRATCHA LAYSHUNS DAWG, YOU GOIN' TA' HOLLYWOOUUUURD!
Suddenly the lights drop and a single spotlight remains. Leaping and bounding in with her rolls jiggling everywhere. Belly bouncing Kash out of the way, she dominates centre stage with her imposing frame and starts a dance routine.
Fat Sally Talfourd Double: I'm Sally Talfourd everybody! Look at me jiggle! WABBAWABBAWABBAAAAAAA! I'm Sally Talfourd! In the spotlight! I love every single one of you people even though I'm really an egotistical moron who cares only about herself! Wabbawabba!
With a rockin' guitar solo to back his entrance, he charges down stage and launches a flying dropkick to send the pig-nosed Sally Talfourd look alike hurtling into the third row. He then dusts himself off, reaches up for a sky hung microphone and starts his incessant string of lies.
Michael Callahan: Hi! My name is Michael Callahan and this is my friend Christy Evans who's filling in as my female accomplice to make me look like a competent, reliable family man like all senate, congress, governor and presidential elects should do. Are you TIRED of people like Sally Talfourd stealing the spotlight? Filling up your ears with putrid lies about how much they love you when really they're just maniacal, ego-thirsting hypocrites? Well join me this Sunday at APW's Mayhem as I end the hysteria surrounding the legacy of Sally Talfourd's win/loss record and beat her like someone should've a long time ago!
The Kash double taps him on the shoulder lightly onto to get a Landslide Election right onto the hard wooden stage. Once again rising to his feet he grabs the skull Kash had just been using and holds it up to the camera.
Michael Callahan: You see, Sally Talfourd has made the mistake of believing I'm little more than a pompous ass with delusions of grandeur. And sure, I may be a culturally devoid yuppie with a God complex but there is one thing that you can not deny and that's my intentions. I've made it obvious since Day 1 that I want to rebuild this company in my image and bring about a change in wrestling to make it a product that you can be ashamed of. Not a glorified wet t-shirt contest and street fight for neckbearded man children to argue over while they play their fantasy roleplaying games online. Can you say the same for Sally Talfourd? No. She's been brain-washing all of you with the idea she's some cutesie, hapless gal who'll always give it her best and does everything she does for you but in reality she's just as egotistical and self-centred as I am. Why, just take one look at her twitter to see the ugliness that she conceals from her happy endings.
A print-out of Sally Talfourd's twitter consumes the screen and we see a highlight of some of the vainest comments she's ever written on there. It doesn't look too pretty.
Michael Callahan: ”The most mentioned megastar on Meltdown? Sally Talfourd! Yayyyy!” What a retard. Obsessing herself with how popular she is on a show she isn't even on? Pathetic. Not only is it a fallacy, but it's mindless egotism from the woman who claims she fights for the people and not out of self-interest. Then of course there's the fact she'll laud me for cheating yet when she breaks up my submission hold as the illegal woman, that's apparently okay? Her double standards are sickening and it's time she's exposed for the fraud she is. Sally Talfourd can't accept that I can see the real her. It's time for this representational fraud to end. We'll see who really has the backing of the people when I beat you this Sunday at Mayhem Sally... and that's a promise.
With another one wrapped up and in the books, Callahan considers for a moment crow-surfing the group of wide eyed and confused children in attendance but ultimately decides not to. He already has enough scandals on his plate and to add more would be absurd. Most of what he says is either farcical or lies but there is some truth in his words and in the end, nobody can twist people's opinions quite as well as Callahan can.
FADE
It was building on the skills and tools I already had and actually giving me a little bit of practice to help me take the next step. Not only was I getting the opportunity to brush up my charismatic chops and engage in debates with the rest of the locker room in front of a live studio audience who would tell me if I was right or wrong, I was pushing my body to the limits with my daily exercises that gave me the body I have today. Not too big, not too skinny but agile, flexible and just powerful enough to make the Victory Lock the unbreakable submission hold that it is today. When you look at it like that, wrestling is the best thing for a man to do after the end of his career as a United States Marine.
It wasn't until I set foot in an Action Packed Wrestling ring ready to compete for the first time that I realised how quickly attitudes can change and how completely wrong I had been about my approach.
On January 29th, 2012 I made my baby steps into the wrestling ring, a world with which I was not yet familiar. I came out of those curtains as an unknown, having only ever been seen once in a US wrestling ring before. Nobody knew my name, nobody gave a damn about who I was. I was just fresh meat ready for the big cats to tear up. Ready to make up the numbers of piling up corpses in Asylum's refuse. In a championship scramble against four long-time veterans I almost immediately realised that not only did nobody really like me, nobody even thought I had a chance of winning.
Nobody... except me.
With every chop, every Suplex, every hold and slam in my arsenal used I scratched and clawed my way across the finish line. I spent every last ounce of my internal resolve to bring myself up to the standards of four very dangerous competitors and with some quick thinking, an incredibly close call and one of the strongest showings you've ever seen in your life I became the first man ever in APW to win a championship in his debut contest. I put the whole world on notice with one simple move and made not just the fans, not just my competitors, not just management but myself realise something absolutely fundamental. “Michael Callahan is the real deal.”
Ever since then I've been completely enamoured with this noble sport. Obsessed even. I became not just Michael Callahan, the aspiring politician and the Yale-grad wannabe wrestler. I became an American Hero, a duly elected wrestling representative, a campaign trail-blazer and the first ever “Pro Life Champion” on a crusade to rebuild the industry in my own perfect little utopian vision. I developed a motherly instinct to want to nurture this company back to the sport of pride that it used to be all while under the scrutiny of many, MANY critics who thought I was conceited, arrogant and deluded. To steal a line from one of my all time favourite films, I became not the hero that wrestling wants but the hero that wrestling needs.
Every time I step out of the curtains and into the flashing lights and the noises you see a persona. You see a caricature of the American far right. You see a man so wrapped up in his own arrogance that he is completely oblivious to the little things around him plotting his obvious, predictable downfall. Yet deep down inside of me I'm completely cognate. I know exactly what's going on. I'm always planning, biding my time and waiting for the opportunities presented to strike with the uncontaminated, celestial power of my raw genius. Three months after my arrival later I am yet to find a man competent enough to press my shoulders down to the mat for a three count, a man powerful enough to put me under substantial duress to hand in my submission or simply to utter the words “I Quit”.
Now fate conspires once again and the fickle audience I call my constituents and the hornets I label as critics have cast their doubts over my abilities once again. The game has come full circle and I now return to exactly the point at which I started. When I arrived nobody believed that I could ride the tidal wave of pressure rising above me but despite this I soldiered on and proved myself with a string of constant victories, marred only by the incompetence of tag team partners who couldn't keep up with my world class level of performance. Although it's been a pleasant three months of nothing but passionate support from the electorate, the popular ballot has once again forsaken me in that no longer do my people believe I am capable of rising to the challenge set before me.
I guess people just haven't learnt that I'm at my most dangerous when I'm the only person believing in myself. Just like on that fateful night when I became the Suicidal Champion. When it's me against the world and yet I'm still losing ground, it's there in my isolation that I find the strength to continue. It's fitting that the mightiest contender to the legacy that no man can kill is a woman, yet not even her charm, physicality and power will be able to handle what I have prepared for her...
… And that's a promise.
Boom.
Back to the real world.
Silver and chrome glimmer alluringly in Michael Callahan's almost futuristic kitchen as the smell of freshly baked cookies straight out the oven shroud the scent of his fear. Accompanied by his two friends, the Southern P.I. Buddy Mulholland and hot-shot L.A. criminal prosecutions lawyer Chris Lawson, his culinary efforts are a base attempt to appease the ravishing appetites of his guests. With no Bethany Monroe to prepare any sweet treats for Michael and his friends, he's had to take matters into his own hands and so with the help of a rather old cook book inherited from Callahan's gramma and the occasional tid-bit of direction from Vikki Lahm he has just about managed to put together a fine batch of baked snacks for him and his friends.
Chiefly the intention behind Callahan's culinary efforts is one of good will in wanting to give his guests a warm welcome once again to his home as well as practice his skills now that he's technically a bachelor again. More importantly though his baking is a subtle attempt at an apology without words after the way in which their friendships had broken down following Buddy's successful investigation into the adulterous behaviour of his ex-fiancé Bethany Monroe. Doubtful at first, he was positively incandescent with rage upon seeing the evidence. Torrents of coarse language, tears and threats of violence despite Callahan's encouragement to find out the truth was the last memory they'd had of their visits to his home and so it is important to all of them that this visit has fonder memories.
Michael Callahan: So... How are they?
He watches with baited breath as Buddy and Chris simultaneously try one of his baked delights. Gauging their reactions carefully, Callahan knows that his self-esteem for the rest of the day will be built upon their scrupulous judgment. With raised eyebrows and surprised, pleasurable grunts of approval Michael can rest easy knowing that he's won them over with his cookies.
Michael Callahan: Not bad eh?
Buddy Mulholland: You ain't bad Mike! I'd defur-nit-ly eat a few more a' those. Where'd you get the recipe?
Chris Lawson: These are really good. However I would like to highlight a serious point. Is there a reason you're pandering to us, making us treats when you really DO have better things to be doing? I get that you want to make it up to us after you freaked your ass out when we showed you those pictures of Beth but certainly I could understand why you'd react in those circumstances. Why are you wasting time in the kitchen when you could be training in the gym with me and getting ready for your big match at Mayhem?
Sauntering towards the fridge with the most confident of smiles, Callahan pulls out a bottle of 1% milk and brings it back along with three glasses to supplement his oven treats.
Michael Callahan: Because I'm already trained up enough. Every morning I spend in the big gym down town, pumping all that iron Lawson. I'm more than ready for this vile harpie.
Chris Lawson: That's a bunch of BS Callahan and you know it. You have a home gym. Do you think while you're standing here, moping and baking stuff Sally isn't wailing on a punching bag with your face glued to it? She's one of the finest wrestlers of this generation. Don't take her so lightly.
Michael Callahan: This generation? Pft, everyone knows she's one hundred years old and used to live with the dinosaurs. She is nowhere near on my level.
Chris Lawson: I'm sorry, did you see her mess up Level One funtime? Even you accept him as one of the greatest of all time and she ripped him a new one.
Disregarding the warnings of his lawyer friend, it's actually Buddy Mulholland who's revelation grabs the attention of everyone in the room next.
Buddy Mulholland: I remember when a little fella I went to eluh-men-tary wit' called Michael Callahan said dis girl in his class wuz about a hundre'. Turns out he ended up datin' her and almost married to her, a real high school sweet-harrrt.
Chris Lawson: Wait. He said that about Bethany? Well ain't that a coinkydink...
Completely on the ball, Callahan immediately gets defensive and tries to defuse the situation as he anticipates the direction the conversation is going.
Michael Callahan: Don't be vile! Of course I didn't!
Buddy Mulholland: He did! He did! And look at them rosy red cheeks raht there! He got a crush on the enemy!
Turning his back on his friends and walking to the sink to disguise his bright red face, he thrusts his arms theatrically in a cry of outrage.
Michael Callahan: That is preposterous! A crush on Sally Talfourd, really. Are you out of your mind?
Chris Lawson: He's not lying. You've gone as red as the tomato ketchup that you spilt on Bethany at the seniors ball in college.
Michael Callahan: Oh my, you gentlemen are pathetic. You think I'd have a crush on that ghastly looking reptile? From Seattle no less? I have more taste than that.
Buddy Mulholland: Opposites attract boy, that's why yew and me er such good friends.
Michael Callahan: That argument is invalid. I don't want to have sex with you.
Chris Lawson: Not with him, but with Sally? Definitely. This is what all this is about isn't it? You LIKE her.
Buddy Mulholland: He LURRRRVES 'er.
It all gets a little bit childish for Callahan who tries in vain to dismiss the motion with the layer of pretentiousness only he can muster.
Michael Callahan: Ugh... Really?
Chris Lawson: It makes a lot of sense. You're constantly doing whatever you can to get under her skin because you want to get into her skin. If she was really so old and irrelevant you wouldn't even bother speaking to her but instead you're constantly bombarding her Twitter with abusive comments, harassing her backstage and refusing to fight her where possible because you don't want to hurt her.
Michael Callahan: Refusing to fight her? I think you'll recall I outright accepted her challenge! How dare you say otherwise?
Buddy Mulholland: Only after she swindled yer ass outta' a hundred bucks, an' you realised dat ye got more in common than ya' thought and that ya'd look stupid if ya' didn't. Face it child, you gots da hots for that pretty lady. I can't say I blame ya. She's hawt.
Chris Lawson: Believe it or not Michael, I actually watched Asylum last week. I watch it most weeks and I see what you do on Twitter. You call her things like sweetheart, honey bee, sugar, ALL the time even when you're giving her the mother of all ear aches.
Michael Callahan: I'm belittling her as a woman wrestler! You can't seriously take those blatantly condescending comments as evidence of some whimsical crush!
Chris Lawson: Then why? What's got the bees so deeply entrenched in your bonnet with her that you simply can't avoid trying to psychologically abuse her?!
The fuse finally runs out and Callahan finally explodes once more. Roaring and flailing his arms like a punch-drunk dinosaur he hopes to influence his friends opinions but sadly his performance falls flat.
Michael Callahan: I do it because I can't STAND her. She's old and irrelevant and she's got beautiful hair and everyone thinks she's so great just because she won the Undisputed Champion once and because she's got nice eyes! Well y'know what? Screw that! She is nothing to me... NOTHING! I'm gonna' go the gym and I'm gonna' lift more than I've ever lifted before!
Chris Lawson: No, Michael! Don't change the subject. You can't stand her because you can't HAVE her. You knew as soon as you set foot with that disrespectful jive-talk and shooting smack about how you're the greatest that she'd instantly be put off you. You did it and once you met her, you'd realise it was too late...
Chris Lawson: Am I wrong still, Einstein?
Realisation finally sinks in and Callahan's resolve quickly falls. Slinking down 'til his face slumps across the kitchen counter he groans in sheer heartfelt agony. He didn't even realise it but he knows now that they're right...
Michael Callahan: Oh my God...
Buddy Mulholland: Whut's the matter?
Michael Callahan: You are so right and I didn't even know it.
Chris Lawson: HAHA! Yes! Fifty bucks, Buddy. Cough it up! I so called this!
With a sigh of discomfort the surly southerner starts rifling through his pockets to try and grab his dusty old leather wallet. Pulling it out along with a handful of ten dollar bills he begrudgingly coughs up the proceeds to his professional friend who's goofy grin and euphoria at winning this “bet” baffles Michael.
Michael Callahan: You put money on this?
Chris Lawson: I did. Thanks for helping me out there. But because I'm not a complete bastard and good with the ladies I'm gonna' try and help you out.
Michael Callahan: You are?
Chris Lawson: I think you should go find her and tell her how you feel. Lament about the entire saga. Tell her you didn't mean a word of it but your total lack of emotional maturity and inability to appreciate how you might respond to it meant that you didn't think she'd react well so you did the instinctive, stupid thing and lashed out at her. If you word it right which given how charismatic you are you should have no problem doing you should have her in your bed by sunset.
Callahan's breathing deepens with intense focus as he draws up the schematics of what Chris is trying to instruct him to do inside his head. A few rough mental calculations and a puzzled expression later and it's surprisingly the politician, not the lawyer who's giving the verdict.
Michael Callahan: First of all, that's a horrific idea. Second of all, it's not about having her in my bed. It's about her. At first my attraction was entirely physical. But then she... fixed me when I was most broken. When my relationship collapsed with Bethany and I went doolally, you had The Studmuffins who mocked me and paraded my bare ass cheeks for all to see. Then you have this amazing woman who comes out, belittles me in front of everyone but gives me the pep-talk I need to bring me back down to Earth. Without her getting involved, I could be upside down, dead and covered in a vomit in a gay bar.
Chris Lawson: I think you're exaggerating a touch there, Michael. If she means that much to you then you should go talk to her about how you feel. Chicks dig the sensitive stuff.
Michael Callahan: The ship had sailed before I'd even realised it was in the dock, Chris. I'm not going to do that.
Buddy Mulholland: Well wutcha gunna do instead Mike? Sit there, cry over her again or man up and go tell her the truth and maybe get yourself outta' the ass kickin' of your life time?
Michael Callahan: I'm going to do... neither of those things. I'm going to learn life's lessons the hard way and take that bruising that I am duly entitled to. Matter of fact... I'm not much of a masochist but.. I'm gonna' go right ahead and go do what I do best. Poke the hornets nest further with a little smear campaigning.
Chris Lawson: Awh hell no!
---
AN AMERICAN PLAYERS PRODUCTION
In front of a live studio audience consisting mostly of small children we see a live stage performance of “Asylum”. There's no backdrop or scene, just a purple curtain while various caricatures of APW superstars do their own thing in their own spaces. Our three caricatures include a man in jean shorts with tattoos, a bandana and scruffy hair who's supposed to be an artists interpretation of Jason Kash. Along with him is a pretentious art-critic looking type in a waistcoat drinking out of a cup and saucer and a fairly good looking man with a suit and wide eyes. These are meant to be Julius Farquhar and Anthony Bailey, respectively. From behind them comes a rather chunky looking girl in a bright pink tutu with pigtails. No prizes for guessing who this is.
Fat Girl With Pig Tails: Hai derrr guise! It's me, Sally Talfourd! Only, I've got no friends! Why does nobody like me?
Kids start booing as an evil, chunky, red-faced creeper with a ponytail and a laptop makes his way onto the stage oinking and snarling and stuffing his face with a buffalo wing.
Fat Guy With A Ponytail: HERRRHERRR. -oink- HEY CUTIEPIE. Why don't'cha go -oinkoink- and tell everyone lies about who you really are? Like me, The Real F'N Deal Terry Marvin!
Fat Girl With Pig Tails: That sounds like a GUH-REAT idea! Lemme try it!
Back on stage we see the Kash double holding a skull and reciting Shakespeare for no particularly explained reason.
Skinny Redneck Dude W/ Bandana and Buzzcut: Alas poor Yorick, I knew him, Horatio!
Guy In A Waistcoat Drinking Tea: Reppin' up the Earl Gray. Shiiiit!
Stylish Looking Young Man With Dreams in his Eyes: CONGRATCHA LAYSHUNS DAWG, YOU GOIN' TA' HOLLYWOOUUUURD!
Suddenly the lights drop and a single spotlight remains. Leaping and bounding in with her rolls jiggling everywhere. Belly bouncing Kash out of the way, she dominates centre stage with her imposing frame and starts a dance routine.
Fat Sally Talfourd Double: I'm Sally Talfourd everybody! Look at me jiggle! WABBAWABBAWABBAAAAAAA! I'm Sally Talfourd! In the spotlight! I love every single one of you people even though I'm really an egotistical moron who cares only about herself! Wabbawabba!
With a rockin' guitar solo to back his entrance, he charges down stage and launches a flying dropkick to send the pig-nosed Sally Talfourd look alike hurtling into the third row. He then dusts himself off, reaches up for a sky hung microphone and starts his incessant string of lies.
Michael Callahan: Hi! My name is Michael Callahan and this is my friend Christy Evans who's filling in as my female accomplice to make me look like a competent, reliable family man like all senate, congress, governor and presidential elects should do. Are you TIRED of people like Sally Talfourd stealing the spotlight? Filling up your ears with putrid lies about how much they love you when really they're just maniacal, ego-thirsting hypocrites? Well join me this Sunday at APW's Mayhem as I end the hysteria surrounding the legacy of Sally Talfourd's win/loss record and beat her like someone should've a long time ago!
The Kash double taps him on the shoulder lightly onto to get a Landslide Election right onto the hard wooden stage. Once again rising to his feet he grabs the skull Kash had just been using and holds it up to the camera.
Michael Callahan: You see, Sally Talfourd has made the mistake of believing I'm little more than a pompous ass with delusions of grandeur. And sure, I may be a culturally devoid yuppie with a God complex but there is one thing that you can not deny and that's my intentions. I've made it obvious since Day 1 that I want to rebuild this company in my image and bring about a change in wrestling to make it a product that you can be ashamed of. Not a glorified wet t-shirt contest and street fight for neckbearded man children to argue over while they play their fantasy roleplaying games online. Can you say the same for Sally Talfourd? No. She's been brain-washing all of you with the idea she's some cutesie, hapless gal who'll always give it her best and does everything she does for you but in reality she's just as egotistical and self-centred as I am. Why, just take one look at her twitter to see the ugliness that she conceals from her happy endings.
A print-out of Sally Talfourd's twitter consumes the screen and we see a highlight of some of the vainest comments she's ever written on there. It doesn't look too pretty.
Michael Callahan: ”The most mentioned megastar on Meltdown? Sally Talfourd! Yayyyy!” What a retard. Obsessing herself with how popular she is on a show she isn't even on? Pathetic. Not only is it a fallacy, but it's mindless egotism from the woman who claims she fights for the people and not out of self-interest. Then of course there's the fact she'll laud me for cheating yet when she breaks up my submission hold as the illegal woman, that's apparently okay? Her double standards are sickening and it's time she's exposed for the fraud she is. Sally Talfourd can't accept that I can see the real her. It's time for this representational fraud to end. We'll see who really has the backing of the people when I beat you this Sunday at Mayhem Sally... and that's a promise.
With another one wrapped up and in the books, Callahan considers for a moment crow-surfing the group of wide eyed and confused children in attendance but ultimately decides not to. He already has enough scandals on his plate and to add more would be absurd. Most of what he says is either farcical or lies but there is some truth in his words and in the end, nobody can twist people's opinions quite as well as Callahan can.
FADE
