Post by Phil Atken on Sept 8, 2012 15:42:41 GMT -4
We find ourselves again and again until the end of time in three months in the company of Phil Atken, Dirk Dickwood and Hank. This is one of those times.
The three men are standing in front of a simple black backdrop with a small table in front of them. Standing directly behind the table are Dirk and Phil, with Hank lurking in the shadow, arms afolded as is his norm.
Atken: Well I can't say I didn't try. I tried, didn't I Dirk?
Dickwoood: You certainly did!
Atken: I tried, didn't I Hank?
Hank gives a short brief nod of approval.
Atken: Some people just don't look out for themselves. You try to give them advice, you try to give them a little bit of a nudge on to the side of sense but people like Johnny Knuckles will always take a deaf ear. It's sad really. So sad. It's a sad, sad situation. Sorry does seem to be the hardest word...
Dickwood: Are you still talking about Knuckles? I'm pretty sure the lyrics of Elton John don't entirely apply to this situation.
Atken: Sorry, went a little off track there. Still the point stands. I tried Knuckles, I tried to make you see sense, I tried to make you realise what you were doing to yourself. I wanted to help you see the errors of your way, I wanted to see you picture a future where you don't get around whatever shithole you decide to retire in on a mobility scooter. I tried to be the good guy but time and time again, you return to the altar of violence. However Johnny, please, please allow me to indulge myself for a minute. Dirk, if you will.
Dirk whips out a laptop and plunks it down on the table sitting directly in front of Dirk and Phil. It's playing Knuckle's latest adventures from Waikiki Beach on a silent loop.
Atken: Please everyone, just look at this video for the briefest of moments, just pay attention to the man's expressions.
Dickwood: He looks like a happy man to me.
Atken: Doesn't he just? He looks very relaxed too.
Dickwood: Like he's somehow found a small piece of bliss in a desert full of shit.
Atken: I wouldn't put it in such strong terms Dirk but I would say he looks like he's found his oasis.
Dickwood: I never cared to Noel.
Atken: Not that Oasis.
Phil shoots a little bit of a glare at Hank and continues on.
Atken: You see it too, right Johnny? You see how happy you are with your feet up? I mean APW has just paid mad cash money to put you in a resort on Waikiki beach. They've rewarded you for your service, for all the hard work you've put into this company. APW and Reginald in particular, they feel a great debt of gratitude to you and you've been justly rewarded. I'm sure APW's retirement package is equally as rewarding Johnny. I mean, just look at this face.
Atken points at the laptop monitor once more.
Atken: This is the face of a man without a care in the world. This is the face of a man who deserves some well earned rest and relaxation. I would just hate to think that I'm going to have to drag you away from all that joy to ensure that I finish the job I started. I mean, you would have to travel all the way from luxurious Waikiki beach to some stinking arena full of body odour and the worst kind of fans imaginable in Honolulu. That just doesn't seem fair to me. You've earnt your massages, your little drinks with umbrellas in them, your wanking sessions over Ms. Talfourd. Why would you punish yourself by dragging your broken carcass to the show? It just doesn't make sense to me.
Dickwood: Well he does have back up!
Dirk, Phil and Hank all start cackling loud enough for it to echo around the room.
Atken: Ahaha, ahah, hah, ha... oh, I forgot about his back-up. Some guys Reginald found from some extras agency, working on the cheapest dime imaginable and forced to dress up like Johnny Knuckles. Cheap extras, that's your back-up Johnny? I'd be offended if it wasn't so funny. I mean, me and Dirk, we have a bond, we've been through hell and back and then back down to hell.
Dickwood: And soon to be back out...
Atken: ...indeed, soon to be back out. You think you can challenge that bond with some dollar store versions of my associates? I mean let me assure you, Hank doesn't come under dear ole Reggie's budget, that's purely out of my pocket. That man is one of the best and you think some shaved, drug addled hobo that Reginald found on the street is really go to go toe to toe with him? I just can't believe you view these jokes as valid assistance.
Dickwood: Look at Hank! I mean look at him! LOOK AT DAT ASS
Dirk almost slaps Hank on the ass but Hank puts a quick stop to that. Dirk looks at little sheepish and returns to the table.
Dickwood: What? It's quite the ass.
Atken: Yes, yes. We all admire Hank's ass.
Hank blushes slightly.
Atken: Still, point is Knuckles, you want to bring some dollar store versions of my esteemed colleagues to the ring? You go right ahead. It doesn't matter. They won't get a look in. It is my intention to end you in mere seconds and looking at your current condition... doesn't seem like much of a challenge. Hell, I was almost ready to give dear Hank and Dirk the night off...
Dickwood: Yeah! Wait... what do you mean “was”?
Atken: The situation changed. I'm sorry.
Dickwood: I better damn well get overtime for this.
Dirk takes the laptop back off the table and Phil leans his hands against it, leaning in towards the camera as he does so.
Atken: You see, we here at Dirk Dickwood Enterprises, we want to see that happy Knuckles all the time, a man without a care in the world. We feel that this can only be reasonably achieved by bringing an end to this tragic career of yours. We did think Johnny, we sincerely did, that the job was done at Shockwave. We thought we had freed you from your cage. We thought that you had managed to Katie Holmes'd the Church of Hardcore. Clearly we were wrong. Now, it is our... or to put it more correctly, it is my duty to correct that error.
You want to know what that glint in my eye was Knuckles? What was making me smile? Your freedom. Your future. That's what you saw as you crashed into that stack of televisions. I was beaming with pride at the things you would do outside the wrestling ring. “Maybe Donkey Punch would have become a global market place leader”, I thought to myself as television after television came crashing down on you. I thought I was witnessing a rebirth in real time and I almost felt like I had a religious connection to it. It was a moving moment to see you twitch and yell out in pain as the glass began to cut into your body, as the blood came pouring out of you. As a river of blood ran red out of the bottom of the debris. I felt like I was about to see a phoenix rise out from the ash. It was really quite the moving moment for me. Hell, I'm welling up now just thinking about it.
Dirk gently hands Phil a handkerchief as Phil dabs away a tear from the corner of his eyes.
Atken: But you just had to ruin that moment, didn't you Johnny? You just had to continue on fighting. You just can't say no can you? You get a phone call for Reginald and no matter what condition you find yourself in, you're on the first flight he sends you on like the high class whore. I don't use that word lightly Johnny. You are a whore. You have sold out your body to the highest bidder and for what? Midgets, giants and the promise of a title shot. At least prostitutes put their money to good use, mostly in business and marketing night classes from what Hank has told me.
Hank nods and gives a thumbs up.
Atken: Are you happy being a prostitute Knuckles? I ask because we both know there's only one way that story ends and unlike the massage you are no doubt enjoying right now, it's not a happy ending.
Dirk gives a little shy giggle at the mention of the happy ending.
Atken: I think you're a little bit confused about the roles we're going to play on Sunday night Johnny. You see, I don't need some kind of sensei of violence to achieve my full potential, I have enough advisers as it is. I never needed to be built up to understand the fine art of smashing a chair into a man's skull. You however, you have, for quite some time, needed someone to pull the plug on your career. At this point, if I had to estimate, your current wrestling career is at the Terry Schivo stage and deep down, I know that you're crying out for help. You're begging me to make this stop because you just can't help yourself. You can't stop yourself. You're physically and mentally incapable of realising what you've done to yourself. I have to accept my duty as the adult in the room.
Phil gives a weary sigh.
Atken: Knuckles, I don't need to pin you. I already beat you, I broke you and I certainly planned to end you. I didn't do this out of any self-interest, I did it for your own well-being. If I'm guilty of anything, it's that I care too much. I just don't want you to fill that silly little head of yours of ideas of title shots. That is a time that has now passed you by Johnny, you had your shots at the World Heavyweight Championship but those, those have been and gone. You put your body on the line for them, you pushed yourself harder than you should've. I can't, in good conscious, allow you to put yourself in that position again. When I say I want to end this for you, I don't say it as some kind of monster, some keep of murderous sociopath that you'd see in some movie. I say it because I care and because it's the right thing. It's the just thing.
On Sunday, I'm begging you not to show up. I want you to stay in that beautiful resort you're enjoying at Waikiki beach. Hell, go to the bar, have a few drinks, maybe you'll meet a girl and you can explain to her you used to be this big deal in the wrestling industry, hell she might even be interested in what you have to say if you buy her enough drinks. Just don't come to the ring. It's not worth it, it's not worth putting your body on the line. I don't know what I'll do to you if you show up but I know I'll have to do something to save you from yourself. Either way Johnny, it ends on Sunday for you, by force or by choice.
When I go on to the Extreme Elimination Chamber, and when I win the World Heavyweight Championship, which, to be frank, I will, I'll do it in your honour Johnny, I'll do it in your memory. I will fight on for you because I know you can't. Maybe if I asked nicely, I'll be able to re-name it the Johnny Knuckle's Career Memorial Title because if you can't be remembered as a wrestler, you could always be remembered as a heap of metal.
The three men are standing in front of a simple black backdrop with a small table in front of them. Standing directly behind the table are Dirk and Phil, with Hank lurking in the shadow, arms afolded as is his norm.
Atken: Well I can't say I didn't try. I tried, didn't I Dirk?
Dickwoood: You certainly did!
Atken: I tried, didn't I Hank?
Hank gives a short brief nod of approval.
Atken: Some people just don't look out for themselves. You try to give them advice, you try to give them a little bit of a nudge on to the side of sense but people like Johnny Knuckles will always take a deaf ear. It's sad really. So sad. It's a sad, sad situation. Sorry does seem to be the hardest word...
Dickwood: Are you still talking about Knuckles? I'm pretty sure the lyrics of Elton John don't entirely apply to this situation.
Atken: Sorry, went a little off track there. Still the point stands. I tried Knuckles, I tried to make you see sense, I tried to make you realise what you were doing to yourself. I wanted to help you see the errors of your way, I wanted to see you picture a future where you don't get around whatever shithole you decide to retire in on a mobility scooter. I tried to be the good guy but time and time again, you return to the altar of violence. However Johnny, please, please allow me to indulge myself for a minute. Dirk, if you will.
Dirk whips out a laptop and plunks it down on the table sitting directly in front of Dirk and Phil. It's playing Knuckle's latest adventures from Waikiki Beach on a silent loop.
Atken: Please everyone, just look at this video for the briefest of moments, just pay attention to the man's expressions.
Dickwood: He looks like a happy man to me.
Atken: Doesn't he just? He looks very relaxed too.
Dickwood: Like he's somehow found a small piece of bliss in a desert full of shit.
Atken: I wouldn't put it in such strong terms Dirk but I would say he looks like he's found his oasis.
Dickwood: I never cared to Noel.
Atken: Not that Oasis.
Phil shoots a little bit of a glare at Hank and continues on.
Atken: You see it too, right Johnny? You see how happy you are with your feet up? I mean APW has just paid mad cash money to put you in a resort on Waikiki beach. They've rewarded you for your service, for all the hard work you've put into this company. APW and Reginald in particular, they feel a great debt of gratitude to you and you've been justly rewarded. I'm sure APW's retirement package is equally as rewarding Johnny. I mean, just look at this face.
Atken points at the laptop monitor once more.
Atken: This is the face of a man without a care in the world. This is the face of a man who deserves some well earned rest and relaxation. I would just hate to think that I'm going to have to drag you away from all that joy to ensure that I finish the job I started. I mean, you would have to travel all the way from luxurious Waikiki beach to some stinking arena full of body odour and the worst kind of fans imaginable in Honolulu. That just doesn't seem fair to me. You've earnt your massages, your little drinks with umbrellas in them, your wanking sessions over Ms. Talfourd. Why would you punish yourself by dragging your broken carcass to the show? It just doesn't make sense to me.
Dickwood: Well he does have back up!
Dirk, Phil and Hank all start cackling loud enough for it to echo around the room.
Atken: Ahaha, ahah, hah, ha... oh, I forgot about his back-up. Some guys Reginald found from some extras agency, working on the cheapest dime imaginable and forced to dress up like Johnny Knuckles. Cheap extras, that's your back-up Johnny? I'd be offended if it wasn't so funny. I mean, me and Dirk, we have a bond, we've been through hell and back and then back down to hell.
Dickwood: And soon to be back out...
Atken: ...indeed, soon to be back out. You think you can challenge that bond with some dollar store versions of my associates? I mean let me assure you, Hank doesn't come under dear ole Reggie's budget, that's purely out of my pocket. That man is one of the best and you think some shaved, drug addled hobo that Reginald found on the street is really go to go toe to toe with him? I just can't believe you view these jokes as valid assistance.
Dickwood: Look at Hank! I mean look at him! LOOK AT DAT ASS
Dirk almost slaps Hank on the ass but Hank puts a quick stop to that. Dirk looks at little sheepish and returns to the table.
Dickwood: What? It's quite the ass.
Atken: Yes, yes. We all admire Hank's ass.
Hank blushes slightly.
Atken: Still, point is Knuckles, you want to bring some dollar store versions of my esteemed colleagues to the ring? You go right ahead. It doesn't matter. They won't get a look in. It is my intention to end you in mere seconds and looking at your current condition... doesn't seem like much of a challenge. Hell, I was almost ready to give dear Hank and Dirk the night off...
Dickwood: Yeah! Wait... what do you mean “was”?
Atken: The situation changed. I'm sorry.
Dickwood: I better damn well get overtime for this.
Dirk takes the laptop back off the table and Phil leans his hands against it, leaning in towards the camera as he does so.
Atken: You see, we here at Dirk Dickwood Enterprises, we want to see that happy Knuckles all the time, a man without a care in the world. We feel that this can only be reasonably achieved by bringing an end to this tragic career of yours. We did think Johnny, we sincerely did, that the job was done at Shockwave. We thought we had freed you from your cage. We thought that you had managed to Katie Holmes'd the Church of Hardcore. Clearly we were wrong. Now, it is our... or to put it more correctly, it is my duty to correct that error.
You want to know what that glint in my eye was Knuckles? What was making me smile? Your freedom. Your future. That's what you saw as you crashed into that stack of televisions. I was beaming with pride at the things you would do outside the wrestling ring. “Maybe Donkey Punch would have become a global market place leader”, I thought to myself as television after television came crashing down on you. I thought I was witnessing a rebirth in real time and I almost felt like I had a religious connection to it. It was a moving moment to see you twitch and yell out in pain as the glass began to cut into your body, as the blood came pouring out of you. As a river of blood ran red out of the bottom of the debris. I felt like I was about to see a phoenix rise out from the ash. It was really quite the moving moment for me. Hell, I'm welling up now just thinking about it.
Dirk gently hands Phil a handkerchief as Phil dabs away a tear from the corner of his eyes.
Atken: But you just had to ruin that moment, didn't you Johnny? You just had to continue on fighting. You just can't say no can you? You get a phone call for Reginald and no matter what condition you find yourself in, you're on the first flight he sends you on like the high class whore. I don't use that word lightly Johnny. You are a whore. You have sold out your body to the highest bidder and for what? Midgets, giants and the promise of a title shot. At least prostitutes put their money to good use, mostly in business and marketing night classes from what Hank has told me.
Hank nods and gives a thumbs up.
Atken: Are you happy being a prostitute Knuckles? I ask because we both know there's only one way that story ends and unlike the massage you are no doubt enjoying right now, it's not a happy ending.
Dirk gives a little shy giggle at the mention of the happy ending.
Atken: I think you're a little bit confused about the roles we're going to play on Sunday night Johnny. You see, I don't need some kind of sensei of violence to achieve my full potential, I have enough advisers as it is. I never needed to be built up to understand the fine art of smashing a chair into a man's skull. You however, you have, for quite some time, needed someone to pull the plug on your career. At this point, if I had to estimate, your current wrestling career is at the Terry Schivo stage and deep down, I know that you're crying out for help. You're begging me to make this stop because you just can't help yourself. You can't stop yourself. You're physically and mentally incapable of realising what you've done to yourself. I have to accept my duty as the adult in the room.
Phil gives a weary sigh.
Atken: Knuckles, I don't need to pin you. I already beat you, I broke you and I certainly planned to end you. I didn't do this out of any self-interest, I did it for your own well-being. If I'm guilty of anything, it's that I care too much. I just don't want you to fill that silly little head of yours of ideas of title shots. That is a time that has now passed you by Johnny, you had your shots at the World Heavyweight Championship but those, those have been and gone. You put your body on the line for them, you pushed yourself harder than you should've. I can't, in good conscious, allow you to put yourself in that position again. When I say I want to end this for you, I don't say it as some kind of monster, some keep of murderous sociopath that you'd see in some movie. I say it because I care and because it's the right thing. It's the just thing.
On Sunday, I'm begging you not to show up. I want you to stay in that beautiful resort you're enjoying at Waikiki beach. Hell, go to the bar, have a few drinks, maybe you'll meet a girl and you can explain to her you used to be this big deal in the wrestling industry, hell she might even be interested in what you have to say if you buy her enough drinks. Just don't come to the ring. It's not worth it, it's not worth putting your body on the line. I don't know what I'll do to you if you show up but I know I'll have to do something to save you from yourself. Either way Johnny, it ends on Sunday for you, by force or by choice.
When I go on to the Extreme Elimination Chamber, and when I win the World Heavyweight Championship, which, to be frank, I will, I'll do it in your honour Johnny, I'll do it in your memory. I will fight on for you because I know you can't. Maybe if I asked nicely, I'll be able to re-name it the Johnny Knuckle's Career Memorial Title because if you can't be remembered as a wrestler, you could always be remembered as a heap of metal.
