Post by Michael Callahan on May 19, 2012 9:54:51 GMT -4
Deep inside the labyrinth of sin and evil that is Michael Callahan's office, the man himself and his two lovely assistants Vikki and Steve are busy at work. It's the Friday morning before Mayhem and Michael has been mercifully been granted the morning off from his responsibilities at Washington Young Republicans. Always one to enjoy a Friday morning, he's kicking back to the background track of Phil Collins “Sussudio” while he examines a brand new paperweight given to him as a gift by one of his Young Republican subordinates.
Life hadn't been simple for Callahan as of late. Up until Rasslemania it seemed like Callahan could do no wrong. He was untouchable. In a socially euphoric state of “Godmode”, whereby he could simply make any decision and always get things right. Now though it seemed like his every act was destined for disaster. Yet despite literally every possible kink in the path catching him at his feet he's somehow still going strong in the face of some serious mojo. It was even nicer for him now that he'd realised the cause of his uncontrollable and volatile dislike of Sally Talfourd. Accepting that he has a crush allowed him to work out how to twist it to his own ends, something Callahan is a master of.
Michael Callahan: Man oh man does it feel good to be a gangster. Over the last few months since becoming a wrestler I have stared down every scandal, every publicity stunt and every nasty little kink in the path that the powers that be have tried to throw my way and lo and behold I've overcome every single one of them more or less unscathed. Sure the Studmuffins Strip-Tease might've seen me jeopardise my chances of ever becoming president and maybe going through a spat with my cuckolding fiancé might've revealed a dark side of me that I never realised existed. Push comes to shove though? I've done alright. I've finally learnt how to roll with the punches in this wrestling industry and in the end that's all that really matters. Absolutely nothing at this stage could possibly shake my confidence.
From behind him sweeps in the ever lovely Vikki Lahm with an unusual, golden pin in her hair. The Germanic sweetheart hands Callahan a copy of the Kelso Post with an uneasy look in her eyes.
Vikki Lahm: Here's your morning paper, sir.
Turning to look at her, his face lights up with a glowing smile that stretches from coast to coast. He accepts the paper and places a hand on hers while looking soulfully into her vacant, cerulean eyes.
Michael Callahan: Thank you Ms. Lahm. And may I say how radiant you look this morning? Positively glowing.
Vikki Lahm: Thank you sir. Good mood?
Michael Callahan: Absolutely.
Before Callahan gets a chance to look at the headline of his daily paper, Steve Fukuyama sweeps in from the other side holding a mug of roasting hot fresh coffee fresh out of the machine.
Michael Callahan: Thank you Steve. Textbook coffee as always. You've really come into your own this past month. That coma must've straightened out a few nuances.
Steve Fukuyama: Thank you sir!
Taking a mouthful of the red hot coffee, Callahan finally opens up the paper to clock a look at the headline. No sooner is the coffee in his mouth he's spitting it all out in gushing torrents over the clipped story at the bottom of the page about a disabled girl with one leg running a marathon. Both Steve and Vikki rush to his side to tend to him. Steve is already daubing at his shirt with a piece of damp tissue.
Steve Fukuyama: What's the matter sir? I didn't put any cinnamon in it this time!
Michael Callahan: No, no, NO! Your coffee was dapper Steve, but look. LOOK at this headline! Both of you! Tell me what you see wrong with it.
The headline speaks for itself. On the front cover of the Kelso Post is an enormous full body shot of Michael Callahan doing his infamous strip tease with quite possibly the worst title any politician can ever hope to read.
Steve Fukuyama: “SEX SCANDAL, A Kelso Republican.” Oh my Lord, that's an awful picture of you as well. How did this happen?
Vikki Lahm: Gimme that. Let's have a look at this. “It's far too often in American politics...”
Practically thrusting the paper into Vikki's chest like it's tainted, the ghostly white face of Callahan speaks volumes of his fear at this revelation. He can't even bring himself to read past the headline.
Michael Callahan: Absurd! What does it say? It's all lies. Lies and god damn slander. Who the Hell has gone to the press with details of my sex life?
Vikki Lahm: It says here that tattoo model Kelly Jones, ie, the blonde girl that you didn't go on a date with has given a statement regarding sordid details of your sex life. Quote, “He wasn't a virgin. Far from it. He was at it morning, noon and night. I struggled to get a lick of sleep.” Hang on... She then goes on to say “He was constantly ravenous for a piece of me. There was nothing he wasn't willing to try. He suggested all these ideas to me, some of the stuff I'd never even heard of because I grew up Catholic and he coaxed me into doing it all. Handcuffs, blindfolds, gags? He would even whisper in my ear of something called “Secret Butthole Pleasures”. I consented to all of it but looking back I feel so degraded and wish I hadn't given up my precious virginity to him.” This doesn't look good Michael.
As Vikki tries (in vain) to contain her astonished amusements at the factoids given by the one Callahan left behind, Callahan's face slips down the color gradient from stark white to a sickly green then further to an outraged, furious, livid red.
Michael Callahan: Oh my Days...
Steve Fukuyama: Are you okay Michael? Is any of this stuff true? What the Hell are secret butthole pleasures? As opposed to common knowledge butthole pleasures?
Vikki Lahm: Public domain anilingus?
Both of them crack up in mirthful laughter, cheeks red with bemused embarassment while Callahan is absolutely distraught.
Michael Callahan: This ISN'T funny. This could mean THE DEATH of my political career and all you two jesters can do is sit there and laugh it up? Well you know the old expression right? There's truth in humour and there is not a single word of it to be found in that awful text. I did not bed Kelly. Hell, I didn't even bed Christy.
Shocked gasps emit from both Callahan's assistants simultaneously who could've sworn blind that Callahan had finally broken his Catholic vows.
Vikki Lahm: Wait, what? But we saw your videoblog with Christy naked in your bed. You drunkenly admitted to the internet that you'd cashed in your virginity. You must've slept with her.
Michael Callahan: No. I lied. Lied through my teeth about the whole saga. Christy and I had a great dinner date and we still keep in touch but we both agreed to keep hush hush on the whole thing and agree to just say that we did. That way her college friends wouldn't give her grief about never having slept with anybody. Same for me. You two trying to set me up at every angle and the mass media of America criticising my celibacy because it was archaic, evangelistic and borderline impossible asking in this current social climate was racking up more pressure than it was worth. If you've got a problem with that then you're just as narrow minded as people claim I am. You honestly thought I'd compromise my ideals for some stupid social stigma of being able to say “Big C got some pussaaaaaay?” Hell no. I've made it twenty six years and I'll make it double if that's how long it takes to find the right person for me.
Steve Fukuyama: I can't believe you played us both Mike. That's some skills.
Vikki Lahm: Shut up Steve. Michael, we can't let this story play out too much. We need to sue the shit out of them as quickly as possible and bully her into silence. She has no proof of anything and anything she says can amount to like you said, libel and slander.
Michael Callahan: I'll be honest, I have more important things on my mind than the damage to my career and reputation. There are FAR MORE IMPORTANT tangibles at stake right now. Look. I know said the other day that I was never going to confess the game to Sally but over the past couple of days I've been having an epiphany and was just about ready to change my mind. I was going to find Sally at Mayhem before our match and explain everything to her. About the way I feel, about the way I've treated her over these past few months and how I understand if she wants nothing to do with me but now that this is out? She'll just see it as another brave ploy. She'll see it as another of my many head games in a feeble pre-match attempt to shake her off her game and unsettle the beast before the big brawl. This has completely ruined what little chances I had of making things right with her.
Vikki groans and decides to slap Callahan back down to earth with some tough love.
Vikki Lahm: You know what Mike? Who cares? Do you think Sally gives a rats cock about what you feel? Do you think she cares that you're moping over your broken chances when you've got what looks like a shattered future of being a politician in the wake of a massive scandal which basically implicates you in something that amounts to sexually grooming a woman? No. She doesn't give a damn about you Michael and you coming out to her isn't going to make her suddenly change her mind about that. If anything, exposing a weakness like that to her is like giving her a big kitchen knife and turning your back on her while pointing at the best part to stab. All you're going to do is put an unnecessary target on your back and you can't afford to do that with Sally Talfourd.
Michael Callahan: Coming out to her? She's not a man and I'm not ga-
Vikki Lahm: You know exactly what I meant Callahan and the fact you're trying to deflect that is indicative of the fact you can't accept the truth. You're latching on to the nearest woman you can that you can relate to on any level because you're feeling bottom of the barrel after Bethany left you.
Michael Callahan: She didn't leave me. I threw her ghetto ass out on the streets. Let's not get it twisted here Vikki. Let's get the facts straight.
Vikki Lahm: Whatever. You're trying to duck the point again. Now it's time for you to do another one of your video blogs and you HAVE to put a brave face on things. If you don't you're going to wind up losing your undefeated streak, a hundred dollars and any opportunity of proving your superiority over the woman who's dominating your heart and your mind right about now and you and I both know that's not the way it should be. That's not...
Both At The Same Time: … The American Way.
Michael Callahan: You're right. I don't need her, I don't need anyone but myself. I'm the most dominant competitor in Asylum history. I am the only man EVER to win a championship belt in their first ever match. I am the future of this industry and I will impeach Sally Talfourd as the duly elected representative of my heart. This game ends now. It's time to finish the job I started when I first had her On The Grill....
-
We cut away once more and when we return it's in Michael Callahan's sacred den which far from being the dump it was the last time we saw it has massively been cleaned up. Callahan might've paid his Mexican maid to do it but the feeling of clearing all the muck and beer bottles and pizza boxes was like removing the taint he'd introduced into his life so it was nice to have the pure space that he was familiar back the way it was. We've become so accustomed to Callahan's video promo blogs as of late and we've had some memorable moments. Who remembers the legendary ThugShadow55? What about the time when he pretended he'd slept with a girl? There's so many options. Now though with Callahan in a fresh suit after the coffee spill, he's ready to unload on the world for the final time before Rasslemania.
RECORD.
With little delay, Callahan is right into his speech. Unlike last time where there was a more satirical approach to his speech, he speaks from the heart to his Mayhem opponent.
Michael Callahan: Who'd have thought that my career defining match at Rasslemania against “The Virus” Chris McKenzie would be a mere footnote compared to my follow-up match at Mayhem? Not me, that's for sure. When I raised my Suicidal Championship victorious after my hard fought win over the now absent Chris McKenzie I had a hurricane of thoughts twirling through my honest American mind but none were quite as strong as the centrepiece of this mental tapestry. “Nothing Gets Bigger Than This...” I was convinced of myself that until next years Rasslemania, everything on the road to the show would just be a little fork in the path until I arrived once again to shock the world like only I can. Once again though, the reality continues to defy my expectations...
With all due respect to Chris McKenzie, his battle against Sally Talfourd is monumental in deciding the future of his APW career. Moreso than his Rasslemania encounter.
Michael Callahan: It's funny how it all started isn't it Sally? A couple of comments on Twitter here and a little bit of business interference there and suddenly, boom. You're On The Grill with Michael Callahan, real talk Republican radio in a wrestling ring. When the spotlights were on bright and I asked you those important questions, you couldn't answer. You choked. You tucked your tail between your unshapely little legs and made your way backstage to your safety blanket because I'd made an absolute fool of you on national television. When you've been publicly degraded and referred to as “a jiggling piece of jello” on The Food Network, you know you've had nothing short of abject humiliation. Hell, come to think of it. Maybe it's your physique that links you. That'll be why you stood up for Terry Marvin against me on Twitter to start this entire debacle.
Nobody knows why Callahan calls both Sally and Terry Marvin fat. Terry Marvin has one of the leanest physiques in the game and Sally's no slouch either.
Michael Callahan: It didn't stop there though did it? I realised that maybe I'd been a little overzealous in my criticisms of you and tried my best to smooth it out. I offered you out for a coffee to try and talk around our differences but you threw the offer in my face and stood me up. Then once again you were back to the smart talk on Twitter. Despite being made a complete fool of on On The Grill, you still had the gorm to get up on that internet pedestal and start tweeting away as if I hadn't shattered what little self esteem you had left. It was adorable, but oh so vulnerable of you. Then as we finally got towards the show of shows, the Asylum before Rasslemania marks the day when all Hell broke loose...
Callahan deliberately pauses for emphasis leaving the silence to summon mystery. There was a pinnacle moment, a turning point where Callahan and Sally's banter turned into mild-mannered, neutral dislike into a full on slaughterhouse. We know it well, but Callahan's going to explain his interpretation of events.
Michael Callahan: In my absolutely bitter rejection of Julius Farquhar's most awful tasting hot drink, I ended up caking your shoes in a mixer of about four parts tea and one part saliva. Clearly I made a bad call of judgement spitting behind me so carelessly and inadvertently ruining those epic trabs of yours. Perhaps I should've apologised. Perhaps you overreacted. We both didn't play very good hands. But while what I did was a total accident, you disproportionately went on a war path and started threatening me because I wrecked a hundred dollar pair of shoes that weren't even that nice. You have physically accosted me on a multitude of occasions since Rasslemania, gone above my head to put us into a contest together to exact some form of revenge while I've done my best in the most difficult time of my life and yet you think I'm the one that's deluded and insane? I think you need a serious reality check and thankfully, I'm the one that's quite capable of delivering that to your door “sealed and signed like it should've been from the start”, to quote a famous artist known as you.
Is it all about the shoes though or is there something more meta at stake here?
Michael Callahan: I'll be the first to admit that maybe I've poked the bull more than I should've but your reaction over one hundred dollars of shoes is completely out of proportion to what is just. Especially given that the suit you crumpled the other day was a two thousand dollar Savile Row custom by slamming me against a wall is now unwearable. For someone like me on the basic contract, I make $100 dollars sleeping. You though? A real star of the industry? That's dirt to you. You could charge that much for an autograph or a used t-shirt. Never mind wrestling a match with me for it. We wrestle for one of the biggest promotions in the world and you want to get bent out of shape over a measly hundred smackers? Get real. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what all this is about and I'm about to tell everyone right now.
So what is it about?
Michael Callahan: It's clear that money is no object. So why have you gunned for me so mercilessly? The answer is simple. This is ALL about your legacy. Everything about this match is about your identity as a wrestler. You've long been established as the queen bee or the black widow of this industry standing atop a pile-up... no... a MOUNTAIN of the corpses of competitors but now you see a young buck ready to knock you off your perch. For the longest time you were known as the one, the most dominant combatant to ever set foot in an APW ring. Then along came Mikey. A man who's done nothing but successfully get under your skin from the offset and managed to embarrass you on a multitude of occasions. It makes your blood boil to see that not only am I attempting to displace you from your mighty golden throne, I'm succeeding at it. You want to put your foot down and prove not just to the fans and to me but to yourself that you can still go with the top flight and that you are still the top dog in APW. There in lies your mistake...
It's obvious that deep down inside Callahan admires Sally's accomplishments as a wrestler but rejects her simply because of what he perceives to be double standards within the industry. Where being elusive about your intentions is rewarded and frank and open about your goals is cause for chastisement.
Michael Callahan: You're underestimating me. You think that this match is going to be a breeze. In all your speeches and your press conferences you at least not outwardly recognise the talent that I possess. Either you're not being open about it or you do not take me seriously and if the latter is the case then you're gravely mistaken. I realise what kind of threat you are to my legacy, I realise that you're an incredible talent but in that realisation I know that I have to step up if I want to put an end to this the right way. You on the other hand do not seem to accept there's a possibility that you can lose and that will make you slovenly. It will make you complacent and it's when people underestimate my potential that I truly am at my most dangerous. I know I'll never meet someone as dangerous as you in the ring, but you're more concerned with PR opportunities you are facing me and that is like letting Ali wear brass knuckles instead of boxing gloves. It's suicide. Because nobody is as dangerous as I am when I'm not recognised for my potential.
To confess that he recognises Sally's abilities as a wrestler maybe suicide for the mind-gaming Republican but when something like that is so glaringly apparent it becomes extremely difficult even for Callahan to ignore.
Michael Callahan: I accept you are the measuring stick of this industry and everything I look to accomplish now and in the future will be forever judged by my performance at Mayhem. That's why I must win. Only through a victory can I continue the path that I walk. Failure is not an option as it will invalidate EVERYTHING I have ever claimed to be. I can no longer consider myself wrestling sovereignty if your smudge taints my flawless record. My ability to claim myself as the representative of the people leading forth a wrestling revolution will be nullified if you can pin my shoulders to the mat for the three-count. For you to defeat me would destroy everything I've built so far and place me right back in the abyss that I came from. I've worked for too long and too hard on building the future of the industry to let you come along and destroy it. That is why I can't try and beat you, I simply HAVE to. There is simply no surrogate for what defeating you will do for my legacy and no way to ever fully recover from the damage a loss for me will do.
Clearing his throat as he checks his watch, he stares into the camera as every word flowing from his mouth is fuelled with righteous, Republican conviction. Sally's crimes against both wrestling and Callahan require immediate justice and as the representative of the people he considers himself judge, jury and executioner.
Michael Callahan: Time is running out Sally. It's all coming to a head now. You and me will come to blows in glorious combat once again and I will utilise every suplex, every submission, every trick in the book to ensure American ingenuity triumphs over your unique brand of dumb luck and mystery. You may be “The Last Magician” but at Mayhem your secrets will be revealed and the true, ugly nature of who you really are will be exposed for all to see. There will be no happy endings, no magic tricks, no smarmy little self-righteous look on your face Sally. Just me, standing victorious once again as I have done for the past three months as you stare on your hands and knees at the mat, the shattered remains of your facade slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. I will put you out to pasture, like I promised you I always would. Now that Sally? That is a promise. My name is Michael Callahan... and more than ever before... I approve this message.
Fade.
Life hadn't been simple for Callahan as of late. Up until Rasslemania it seemed like Callahan could do no wrong. He was untouchable. In a socially euphoric state of “Godmode”, whereby he could simply make any decision and always get things right. Now though it seemed like his every act was destined for disaster. Yet despite literally every possible kink in the path catching him at his feet he's somehow still going strong in the face of some serious mojo. It was even nicer for him now that he'd realised the cause of his uncontrollable and volatile dislike of Sally Talfourd. Accepting that he has a crush allowed him to work out how to twist it to his own ends, something Callahan is a master of.
Michael Callahan: Man oh man does it feel good to be a gangster. Over the last few months since becoming a wrestler I have stared down every scandal, every publicity stunt and every nasty little kink in the path that the powers that be have tried to throw my way and lo and behold I've overcome every single one of them more or less unscathed. Sure the Studmuffins Strip-Tease might've seen me jeopardise my chances of ever becoming president and maybe going through a spat with my cuckolding fiancé might've revealed a dark side of me that I never realised existed. Push comes to shove though? I've done alright. I've finally learnt how to roll with the punches in this wrestling industry and in the end that's all that really matters. Absolutely nothing at this stage could possibly shake my confidence.
From behind him sweeps in the ever lovely Vikki Lahm with an unusual, golden pin in her hair. The Germanic sweetheart hands Callahan a copy of the Kelso Post with an uneasy look in her eyes.
Vikki Lahm: Here's your morning paper, sir.
Turning to look at her, his face lights up with a glowing smile that stretches from coast to coast. He accepts the paper and places a hand on hers while looking soulfully into her vacant, cerulean eyes.
Michael Callahan: Thank you Ms. Lahm. And may I say how radiant you look this morning? Positively glowing.
Vikki Lahm: Thank you sir. Good mood?
Michael Callahan: Absolutely.
Before Callahan gets a chance to look at the headline of his daily paper, Steve Fukuyama sweeps in from the other side holding a mug of roasting hot fresh coffee fresh out of the machine.
Michael Callahan: Thank you Steve. Textbook coffee as always. You've really come into your own this past month. That coma must've straightened out a few nuances.
Steve Fukuyama: Thank you sir!
Taking a mouthful of the red hot coffee, Callahan finally opens up the paper to clock a look at the headline. No sooner is the coffee in his mouth he's spitting it all out in gushing torrents over the clipped story at the bottom of the page about a disabled girl with one leg running a marathon. Both Steve and Vikki rush to his side to tend to him. Steve is already daubing at his shirt with a piece of damp tissue.
Steve Fukuyama: What's the matter sir? I didn't put any cinnamon in it this time!
Michael Callahan: No, no, NO! Your coffee was dapper Steve, but look. LOOK at this headline! Both of you! Tell me what you see wrong with it.
The headline speaks for itself. On the front cover of the Kelso Post is an enormous full body shot of Michael Callahan doing his infamous strip tease with quite possibly the worst title any politician can ever hope to read.
Steve Fukuyama: “SEX SCANDAL, A Kelso Republican.” Oh my Lord, that's an awful picture of you as well. How did this happen?
Vikki Lahm: Gimme that. Let's have a look at this. “It's far too often in American politics...”
Practically thrusting the paper into Vikki's chest like it's tainted, the ghostly white face of Callahan speaks volumes of his fear at this revelation. He can't even bring himself to read past the headline.
Michael Callahan: Absurd! What does it say? It's all lies. Lies and god damn slander. Who the Hell has gone to the press with details of my sex life?
Vikki Lahm: It says here that tattoo model Kelly Jones, ie, the blonde girl that you didn't go on a date with has given a statement regarding sordid details of your sex life. Quote, “He wasn't a virgin. Far from it. He was at it morning, noon and night. I struggled to get a lick of sleep.” Hang on... She then goes on to say “He was constantly ravenous for a piece of me. There was nothing he wasn't willing to try. He suggested all these ideas to me, some of the stuff I'd never even heard of because I grew up Catholic and he coaxed me into doing it all. Handcuffs, blindfolds, gags? He would even whisper in my ear of something called “Secret Butthole Pleasures”. I consented to all of it but looking back I feel so degraded and wish I hadn't given up my precious virginity to him.” This doesn't look good Michael.
As Vikki tries (in vain) to contain her astonished amusements at the factoids given by the one Callahan left behind, Callahan's face slips down the color gradient from stark white to a sickly green then further to an outraged, furious, livid red.
Michael Callahan: Oh my Days...
Steve Fukuyama: Are you okay Michael? Is any of this stuff true? What the Hell are secret butthole pleasures? As opposed to common knowledge butthole pleasures?
Vikki Lahm: Public domain anilingus?
Both of them crack up in mirthful laughter, cheeks red with bemused embarassment while Callahan is absolutely distraught.
Michael Callahan: This ISN'T funny. This could mean THE DEATH of my political career and all you two jesters can do is sit there and laugh it up? Well you know the old expression right? There's truth in humour and there is not a single word of it to be found in that awful text. I did not bed Kelly. Hell, I didn't even bed Christy.
Shocked gasps emit from both Callahan's assistants simultaneously who could've sworn blind that Callahan had finally broken his Catholic vows.
Vikki Lahm: Wait, what? But we saw your videoblog with Christy naked in your bed. You drunkenly admitted to the internet that you'd cashed in your virginity. You must've slept with her.
Michael Callahan: No. I lied. Lied through my teeth about the whole saga. Christy and I had a great dinner date and we still keep in touch but we both agreed to keep hush hush on the whole thing and agree to just say that we did. That way her college friends wouldn't give her grief about never having slept with anybody. Same for me. You two trying to set me up at every angle and the mass media of America criticising my celibacy because it was archaic, evangelistic and borderline impossible asking in this current social climate was racking up more pressure than it was worth. If you've got a problem with that then you're just as narrow minded as people claim I am. You honestly thought I'd compromise my ideals for some stupid social stigma of being able to say “Big C got some pussaaaaaay?” Hell no. I've made it twenty six years and I'll make it double if that's how long it takes to find the right person for me.
Steve Fukuyama: I can't believe you played us both Mike. That's some skills.
Vikki Lahm: Shut up Steve. Michael, we can't let this story play out too much. We need to sue the shit out of them as quickly as possible and bully her into silence. She has no proof of anything and anything she says can amount to like you said, libel and slander.
Michael Callahan: I'll be honest, I have more important things on my mind than the damage to my career and reputation. There are FAR MORE IMPORTANT tangibles at stake right now. Look. I know said the other day that I was never going to confess the game to Sally but over the past couple of days I've been having an epiphany and was just about ready to change my mind. I was going to find Sally at Mayhem before our match and explain everything to her. About the way I feel, about the way I've treated her over these past few months and how I understand if she wants nothing to do with me but now that this is out? She'll just see it as another brave ploy. She'll see it as another of my many head games in a feeble pre-match attempt to shake her off her game and unsettle the beast before the big brawl. This has completely ruined what little chances I had of making things right with her.
Vikki groans and decides to slap Callahan back down to earth with some tough love.
Vikki Lahm: You know what Mike? Who cares? Do you think Sally gives a rats cock about what you feel? Do you think she cares that you're moping over your broken chances when you've got what looks like a shattered future of being a politician in the wake of a massive scandal which basically implicates you in something that amounts to sexually grooming a woman? No. She doesn't give a damn about you Michael and you coming out to her isn't going to make her suddenly change her mind about that. If anything, exposing a weakness like that to her is like giving her a big kitchen knife and turning your back on her while pointing at the best part to stab. All you're going to do is put an unnecessary target on your back and you can't afford to do that with Sally Talfourd.
Michael Callahan: Coming out to her? She's not a man and I'm not ga-
Vikki Lahm: You know exactly what I meant Callahan and the fact you're trying to deflect that is indicative of the fact you can't accept the truth. You're latching on to the nearest woman you can that you can relate to on any level because you're feeling bottom of the barrel after Bethany left you.
Michael Callahan: She didn't leave me. I threw her ghetto ass out on the streets. Let's not get it twisted here Vikki. Let's get the facts straight.
Vikki Lahm: Whatever. You're trying to duck the point again. Now it's time for you to do another one of your video blogs and you HAVE to put a brave face on things. If you don't you're going to wind up losing your undefeated streak, a hundred dollars and any opportunity of proving your superiority over the woman who's dominating your heart and your mind right about now and you and I both know that's not the way it should be. That's not...
Both At The Same Time: … The American Way.
Michael Callahan: You're right. I don't need her, I don't need anyone but myself. I'm the most dominant competitor in Asylum history. I am the only man EVER to win a championship belt in their first ever match. I am the future of this industry and I will impeach Sally Talfourd as the duly elected representative of my heart. This game ends now. It's time to finish the job I started when I first had her On The Grill....
-
We cut away once more and when we return it's in Michael Callahan's sacred den which far from being the dump it was the last time we saw it has massively been cleaned up. Callahan might've paid his Mexican maid to do it but the feeling of clearing all the muck and beer bottles and pizza boxes was like removing the taint he'd introduced into his life so it was nice to have the pure space that he was familiar back the way it was. We've become so accustomed to Callahan's video promo blogs as of late and we've had some memorable moments. Who remembers the legendary ThugShadow55? What about the time when he pretended he'd slept with a girl? There's so many options. Now though with Callahan in a fresh suit after the coffee spill, he's ready to unload on the world for the final time before Rasslemania.
RECORD.
With little delay, Callahan is right into his speech. Unlike last time where there was a more satirical approach to his speech, he speaks from the heart to his Mayhem opponent.
Michael Callahan: Who'd have thought that my career defining match at Rasslemania against “The Virus” Chris McKenzie would be a mere footnote compared to my follow-up match at Mayhem? Not me, that's for sure. When I raised my Suicidal Championship victorious after my hard fought win over the now absent Chris McKenzie I had a hurricane of thoughts twirling through my honest American mind but none were quite as strong as the centrepiece of this mental tapestry. “Nothing Gets Bigger Than This...” I was convinced of myself that until next years Rasslemania, everything on the road to the show would just be a little fork in the path until I arrived once again to shock the world like only I can. Once again though, the reality continues to defy my expectations...
With all due respect to Chris McKenzie, his battle against Sally Talfourd is monumental in deciding the future of his APW career. Moreso than his Rasslemania encounter.
Michael Callahan: It's funny how it all started isn't it Sally? A couple of comments on Twitter here and a little bit of business interference there and suddenly, boom. You're On The Grill with Michael Callahan, real talk Republican radio in a wrestling ring. When the spotlights were on bright and I asked you those important questions, you couldn't answer. You choked. You tucked your tail between your unshapely little legs and made your way backstage to your safety blanket because I'd made an absolute fool of you on national television. When you've been publicly degraded and referred to as “a jiggling piece of jello” on The Food Network, you know you've had nothing short of abject humiliation. Hell, come to think of it. Maybe it's your physique that links you. That'll be why you stood up for Terry Marvin against me on Twitter to start this entire debacle.
Nobody knows why Callahan calls both Sally and Terry Marvin fat. Terry Marvin has one of the leanest physiques in the game and Sally's no slouch either.
Michael Callahan: It didn't stop there though did it? I realised that maybe I'd been a little overzealous in my criticisms of you and tried my best to smooth it out. I offered you out for a coffee to try and talk around our differences but you threw the offer in my face and stood me up. Then once again you were back to the smart talk on Twitter. Despite being made a complete fool of on On The Grill, you still had the gorm to get up on that internet pedestal and start tweeting away as if I hadn't shattered what little self esteem you had left. It was adorable, but oh so vulnerable of you. Then as we finally got towards the show of shows, the Asylum before Rasslemania marks the day when all Hell broke loose...
Callahan deliberately pauses for emphasis leaving the silence to summon mystery. There was a pinnacle moment, a turning point where Callahan and Sally's banter turned into mild-mannered, neutral dislike into a full on slaughterhouse. We know it well, but Callahan's going to explain his interpretation of events.
Michael Callahan: In my absolutely bitter rejection of Julius Farquhar's most awful tasting hot drink, I ended up caking your shoes in a mixer of about four parts tea and one part saliva. Clearly I made a bad call of judgement spitting behind me so carelessly and inadvertently ruining those epic trabs of yours. Perhaps I should've apologised. Perhaps you overreacted. We both didn't play very good hands. But while what I did was a total accident, you disproportionately went on a war path and started threatening me because I wrecked a hundred dollar pair of shoes that weren't even that nice. You have physically accosted me on a multitude of occasions since Rasslemania, gone above my head to put us into a contest together to exact some form of revenge while I've done my best in the most difficult time of my life and yet you think I'm the one that's deluded and insane? I think you need a serious reality check and thankfully, I'm the one that's quite capable of delivering that to your door “sealed and signed like it should've been from the start”, to quote a famous artist known as you.
Is it all about the shoes though or is there something more meta at stake here?
Michael Callahan: I'll be the first to admit that maybe I've poked the bull more than I should've but your reaction over one hundred dollars of shoes is completely out of proportion to what is just. Especially given that the suit you crumpled the other day was a two thousand dollar Savile Row custom by slamming me against a wall is now unwearable. For someone like me on the basic contract, I make $100 dollars sleeping. You though? A real star of the industry? That's dirt to you. You could charge that much for an autograph or a used t-shirt. Never mind wrestling a match with me for it. We wrestle for one of the biggest promotions in the world and you want to get bent out of shape over a measly hundred smackers? Get real. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what all this is about and I'm about to tell everyone right now.
So what is it about?
Michael Callahan: It's clear that money is no object. So why have you gunned for me so mercilessly? The answer is simple. This is ALL about your legacy. Everything about this match is about your identity as a wrestler. You've long been established as the queen bee or the black widow of this industry standing atop a pile-up... no... a MOUNTAIN of the corpses of competitors but now you see a young buck ready to knock you off your perch. For the longest time you were known as the one, the most dominant combatant to ever set foot in an APW ring. Then along came Mikey. A man who's done nothing but successfully get under your skin from the offset and managed to embarrass you on a multitude of occasions. It makes your blood boil to see that not only am I attempting to displace you from your mighty golden throne, I'm succeeding at it. You want to put your foot down and prove not just to the fans and to me but to yourself that you can still go with the top flight and that you are still the top dog in APW. There in lies your mistake...
It's obvious that deep down inside Callahan admires Sally's accomplishments as a wrestler but rejects her simply because of what he perceives to be double standards within the industry. Where being elusive about your intentions is rewarded and frank and open about your goals is cause for chastisement.
Michael Callahan: You're underestimating me. You think that this match is going to be a breeze. In all your speeches and your press conferences you at least not outwardly recognise the talent that I possess. Either you're not being open about it or you do not take me seriously and if the latter is the case then you're gravely mistaken. I realise what kind of threat you are to my legacy, I realise that you're an incredible talent but in that realisation I know that I have to step up if I want to put an end to this the right way. You on the other hand do not seem to accept there's a possibility that you can lose and that will make you slovenly. It will make you complacent and it's when people underestimate my potential that I truly am at my most dangerous. I know I'll never meet someone as dangerous as you in the ring, but you're more concerned with PR opportunities you are facing me and that is like letting Ali wear brass knuckles instead of boxing gloves. It's suicide. Because nobody is as dangerous as I am when I'm not recognised for my potential.
To confess that he recognises Sally's abilities as a wrestler maybe suicide for the mind-gaming Republican but when something like that is so glaringly apparent it becomes extremely difficult even for Callahan to ignore.
Michael Callahan: I accept you are the measuring stick of this industry and everything I look to accomplish now and in the future will be forever judged by my performance at Mayhem. That's why I must win. Only through a victory can I continue the path that I walk. Failure is not an option as it will invalidate EVERYTHING I have ever claimed to be. I can no longer consider myself wrestling sovereignty if your smudge taints my flawless record. My ability to claim myself as the representative of the people leading forth a wrestling revolution will be nullified if you can pin my shoulders to the mat for the three-count. For you to defeat me would destroy everything I've built so far and place me right back in the abyss that I came from. I've worked for too long and too hard on building the future of the industry to let you come along and destroy it. That is why I can't try and beat you, I simply HAVE to. There is simply no surrogate for what defeating you will do for my legacy and no way to ever fully recover from the damage a loss for me will do.
Clearing his throat as he checks his watch, he stares into the camera as every word flowing from his mouth is fuelled with righteous, Republican conviction. Sally's crimes against both wrestling and Callahan require immediate justice and as the representative of the people he considers himself judge, jury and executioner.
Michael Callahan: Time is running out Sally. It's all coming to a head now. You and me will come to blows in glorious combat once again and I will utilise every suplex, every submission, every trick in the book to ensure American ingenuity triumphs over your unique brand of dumb luck and mystery. You may be “The Last Magician” but at Mayhem your secrets will be revealed and the true, ugly nature of who you really are will be exposed for all to see. There will be no happy endings, no magic tricks, no smarmy little self-righteous look on your face Sally. Just me, standing victorious once again as I have done for the past three months as you stare on your hands and knees at the mat, the shattered remains of your facade slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. I will put you out to pasture, like I promised you I always would. Now that Sally? That is a promise. My name is Michael Callahan... and more than ever before... I approve this message.
Fade.
