Post by Jules on Sept 22, 2012 20:07:39 GMT -4
The scene opens on a boat where Julius Farquhar is sailing toward some destination, accompanied by his new associate Barry Hoskins, and his ever-dependable personally appropriated APW reporter, Phil.
Julius: Not far now and you two will learn about the greater majesty of the “Quintessentially English Empire”.
Phil: I can’t wait to see it, Jules. From what you have told me this will really show the APW audience the philanthropic side to your personality.
Julius: How could you doubt me, old bean? The “Quintessentially English Empire” has always been a restorative movement for the benefit of mankind. Just ask Barry here.
Barry: Yep, I can vouch for that. My bank balance has undergone a ‘restorative movement’ since I started working for Mr. Farquhar.
Phil responds to Barry’s cynicism with a disappointed shake of the head.
Julius: We are upon it. Ahoy captain, full steam ahead! I must give you fair warning Philip. Be prepared to be blown away at the marvel that is my humanitarian operation here in the Philippines. We in the “Quintessentially English Empire” are reaching out to help the impoverished people of the world – I am even giving Johnny Knuckles, the wrestling equivalent of a homeless person, an opportunity to bask in the glow of my brilliance.
Phil: I must say I am surprised, Julius. To think your efforts genuinely aim at improving other people’s lives.
Julius: What can I say? I am like a modern day Lakampati, the Filipino God of fertility, food and drink. I am giving this savage race of people a reason to want to wake up in the morning, a reason not to want to put a bullet to the head and pull the trigger.
As the get closer the tranquil scene of third world prosperity that Julius had promised looks remoter than Tristan da Cunha. What we get a glimpse instead of the local dock that seems to have fallen victim to a group of bandits. Julius’ face turns to one of horror as pillars of smoke rise from the location of his ‘humanitarian operation’. The boat comes into dock, Julius alights and begins to survey the wreckage.
Julius: I cannot believe this! I demand an explanation!
Julius calls over a dock worker.
Julius: You! Get over here.
The dock worker ambles over, a look of confusion on his face.
Julius: What happened here?
The docker has a blank expression on his face.
Julius: This is no good. Barry, go and find the foreman.
Barry scuttles off as instructed; Julius dismisses the dock work with a exasperated gesture.
Phil: I can’t believe somebody would attack a third world relief fund like this.
Julius: The world is full of despicable and callous fiends, Philip. I swear when I learn the identity of the scoundrels who would dare to organise criminal activities against me, I will put an end their parasitic lives.
Phil: It gets worse, Jules. Look over there, it seems like the culprits left some graffiti. They’ve put the word ‘Q.U.E.E.R.’ all over your buildings.
Julius: What are you talking about, man? That is the charity’s name: ‘QUintessentially English Empire Redemption’.
Phil looks quizzically at Julius, but there is absolutely no hint of irony in the Englishman’s words. Barry returns with a man who he says is the foreman.
Julius: Tell me man, what the in the blue blazes has occurred here?
Foreman: Ming pong, ding dong, six a song o six punce, woggy woggy.
Julius: Is this man intoxicated?
Barry steps in here.
Barry: He doesn’t speak English, Mr. Farquhar. He is speaking in the local dialect.
Julius: Well it sounds like gibberish.
Barry: Well you know what these backwards people are like sometimes.
Julius: Quite so. I have had to listen to Johnny Knuckles’ video output this week; I swear listening to that man is like listening to an extraterrestrial.
Barry: Well luckily I spent several months in these parts in my youth; I should be able to translate.
Julius: Splendid. Do get on with it, old boy.
Barry asks the foreman a question.
Forearm: Waaaaang, waaaaang, ooky snooky, hark hark, booger booger, blowmeowntrumpet.
Barry: He says a band of foreigners came yesterday and invaded this place.
Julius: Terrorists! Well, ask him if he knows who they are.
Barry does so.
Foreman: Haaaargh! Gargle gargle, ook, bark, gribble grabble. AMERICAN BASTARDS!
Barry: He says they were American, and they said something about not having a tea party.
Julius: Infidels! What else did he say?
Barry: He also said that they destroyed some cases of clothing sent for the third world children, but the cases with the contraband were unharmed.
Phil: Contraband?
Forearm: Jiggly jiggly, jellywithsugarbeansontop, snicker snicker, boing boing.
Barry: He said you should not worry Mr. Farquhar, it will only take a day to clean up the mess and then he can get back to exploiting Filipino child workers and make you lost of money.
Phil: Is this true?
Julius begins to fidget awkwardly, then laughs nervously.
Julius: Clearly something is lost in translation. What he probably said was the children are upset that they will not be getting the money they sent.
Julius kicks Barry in the shin.
Barry: Yeah, now that you mention it, I think I mistranslated. That sounds more like what he said.
Foreman: Hanky panky number two, weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, JOHNNY KNUCKLES!
The name grabs Julius’ attention.
Julius: WHAT DID HE SAY?
Barry: He thinks the leader was the wrestler Johnny Knuckles.
Julius: That fiend! I should have known he would sink to such devious depths. Come on Barry, we need to find that man and make a strike in the name of “Quintessentially English Justice”.
Julius turns to storm off, but he is suddenly off his feet in a horizontal position and hits the concrete floor back first. He groans in agony. The forearm bursts into laughter, Phil and Barry do their best to suppress their humour.
Julius: Barry, you useless piece of human waste, do not just stand by idly, help me up.
Barry rushes over and helps Julius to his feet. Barry bends down and picks up the culprit – a stray soggy tea bag. The Forearm continues to laugh, pausing briefly to say.
Foreman: FUNNY ENGLISHMAN! YOU GOT TEA-BAGGED!
Julius fumes and storms off as the scene fades.
*
Somewhere in Quezon City the APW Tap Out Champion Julius Farquhar is surveying the scene created by the swarm of more than 2.7 million souls. The camera, following Julius’ gaze, is focussed on a scene on the opposite of the road. Two men approach each other and exchange a warm and smiling handshake. The camera zooms out and as it does Julius looks at the camera.
Julius: Here in the Philippines showing appropriate respect for another person and their status is one a custom of fundamental importance. It is the mark and measure of a person the extent to which they respect other people in society. To ignore this custom is encourage shame, or Hiya, a blemish it can take generations to remove.
It is appropriate that this latest edition of Asylum will be broadcast from the Philippines because at no time more than now has there been a need to instil respect among the ranks of the Asylum roster. Ever since I came from Overdrive I have been committed to making Asylum a much more respectful and credible product. A place that was now run by animals like Rico Casteel, Mike Morrison and Jason Kash, is now elevated by the ubiquitous presence of the “Quintessentially English”. My mission statement has been to spread “Quintessentially English Justice” and return some respect to a world gone made.
My match with Johnny Knuckles could not come at a better time because if there is any man on the roster who needs a lesson in respect it is this man.
Johnny, you can talk all day long, you can talk until you give yourself a toothache, but nothing you say can or will ever change the undeniable fact that you are a loser. You always were. You always will be.
Sunshine, you need to learn some manners, and that means acknowledging those folk who stand above you in the hierarchy. I do not mean you need to buy Reginald Schmidt a bunch of flowers every time you see him, but it does mean you recognise that I am better than you. A better wrestler. A better champion, oh wait you have no idea about that. And an all-round better specimen of humanity.
The irony that seems to be lost on Mr. Knuckles is that as much as he protests that he has no respect for me, what he really wants more than anything else is just the smallest acknowledgement from brilliant athletes like myself. Well, Johnny, you have no reason to continue with your needy drivel about ‘never giving up’ or ‘always being the one left standing’; you will get my full and undivided attention on Sunday and I promise I will apply all of my intellectual and physical capabilities to methodically twisting every sinew in your body in ways you never thought possible.
Julius smiles to himself; he turns around and takes hold of himself, turning back to the camera and showing the article to the world: with his right hand he holds up the APW Tap Out Championship belt; in his left can be seen a four leaf clover.
Julius: Luck is a remarkable notion. I have heard it said by many people that it is the key phenomena that separates success from failure; how does the saying go? Success is 99% talent, 1% luck. Well that may be the case for mere mortals, but for someone like yours truly success is determined by 100% bona fide “Quintessentially English” talent. It is the blue blood in my veins, not the vicissitudes of fate.
I don’t need luck; I don’t need pathetic symbols to cling on to in the hope that one day the ball will drop in my favour. Like a great batsmen, I do not rely on fortune of the conditions, but make the conditions work for. More often than not the result is I score a hundred before the umpires have called for lunch.
The Tap Out Championship belt I hold, Johnny, is nothing to do with luck. Sure it is a symbol, just like this four leaf clover, but unlike the leaf my belt a symbol that speaks of my talent, it tells the world I am among this business’ finest wrestlers. This has nothing to do with luck, but everything to do with the power in these two hands: the power to make others whimper because of the agony I inflict. It is not made of cringing words of self-motivation, as empty as the space between your ears Knuckles, but of deeds, of actions and an achievement your career cannot match in comparison. To be an APW Champion, Knuckles, is not a thing made of luck; but then I would not expect a multi-time loser also-ran to understand that notion.
Julius turns to something off camera and the camera pans to show us what he is looking at. We see a couple exchanging gifts. The voice of Julius is heard as the camera pans back to him.
Julius: Another local custom is the giving of gifts; it appears to be as natural as breathing to this lot. How fitting that my every appearance for APW, my every action, and every word I utter is a gift to the world. Crushing Johnny Knuckles inside the ring will be merely the latest present I offer.
I invite you Johnny to come and try to prove otherwise on Sunday. Bring all your anger, all that misery you claim you can inflict, but do not trust to luck Johnny, because in this game luck is for losers.
Julius: Not far now and you two will learn about the greater majesty of the “Quintessentially English Empire”.
Phil: I can’t wait to see it, Jules. From what you have told me this will really show the APW audience the philanthropic side to your personality.
Julius: How could you doubt me, old bean? The “Quintessentially English Empire” has always been a restorative movement for the benefit of mankind. Just ask Barry here.
Barry: Yep, I can vouch for that. My bank balance has undergone a ‘restorative movement’ since I started working for Mr. Farquhar.
Phil responds to Barry’s cynicism with a disappointed shake of the head.
Julius: We are upon it. Ahoy captain, full steam ahead! I must give you fair warning Philip. Be prepared to be blown away at the marvel that is my humanitarian operation here in the Philippines. We in the “Quintessentially English Empire” are reaching out to help the impoverished people of the world – I am even giving Johnny Knuckles, the wrestling equivalent of a homeless person, an opportunity to bask in the glow of my brilliance.
Phil: I must say I am surprised, Julius. To think your efforts genuinely aim at improving other people’s lives.
Julius: What can I say? I am like a modern day Lakampati, the Filipino God of fertility, food and drink. I am giving this savage race of people a reason to want to wake up in the morning, a reason not to want to put a bullet to the head and pull the trigger.
As the get closer the tranquil scene of third world prosperity that Julius had promised looks remoter than Tristan da Cunha. What we get a glimpse instead of the local dock that seems to have fallen victim to a group of bandits. Julius’ face turns to one of horror as pillars of smoke rise from the location of his ‘humanitarian operation’. The boat comes into dock, Julius alights and begins to survey the wreckage.
Julius: I cannot believe this! I demand an explanation!
Julius calls over a dock worker.
Julius: You! Get over here.
The dock worker ambles over, a look of confusion on his face.
Julius: What happened here?
The docker has a blank expression on his face.
Julius: This is no good. Barry, go and find the foreman.
Barry scuttles off as instructed; Julius dismisses the dock work with a exasperated gesture.
Phil: I can’t believe somebody would attack a third world relief fund like this.
Julius: The world is full of despicable and callous fiends, Philip. I swear when I learn the identity of the scoundrels who would dare to organise criminal activities against me, I will put an end their parasitic lives.
Phil: It gets worse, Jules. Look over there, it seems like the culprits left some graffiti. They’ve put the word ‘Q.U.E.E.R.’ all over your buildings.
Julius: What are you talking about, man? That is the charity’s name: ‘QUintessentially English Empire Redemption’.
Phil looks quizzically at Julius, but there is absolutely no hint of irony in the Englishman’s words. Barry returns with a man who he says is the foreman.
Julius: Tell me man, what the in the blue blazes has occurred here?
Foreman: Ming pong, ding dong, six a song o six punce, woggy woggy.
Julius: Is this man intoxicated?
Barry steps in here.
Barry: He doesn’t speak English, Mr. Farquhar. He is speaking in the local dialect.
Julius: Well it sounds like gibberish.
Barry: Well you know what these backwards people are like sometimes.
Julius: Quite so. I have had to listen to Johnny Knuckles’ video output this week; I swear listening to that man is like listening to an extraterrestrial.
Barry: Well luckily I spent several months in these parts in my youth; I should be able to translate.
Julius: Splendid. Do get on with it, old boy.
Barry asks the foreman a question.
Forearm: Waaaaang, waaaaang, ooky snooky, hark hark, booger booger, blowmeowntrumpet.
Barry: He says a band of foreigners came yesterday and invaded this place.
Julius: Terrorists! Well, ask him if he knows who they are.
Barry does so.
Foreman: Haaaargh! Gargle gargle, ook, bark, gribble grabble. AMERICAN BASTARDS!
Barry: He says they were American, and they said something about not having a tea party.
Julius: Infidels! What else did he say?
Barry: He also said that they destroyed some cases of clothing sent for the third world children, but the cases with the contraband were unharmed.
Phil: Contraband?
Forearm: Jiggly jiggly, jellywithsugarbeansontop, snicker snicker, boing boing.
Barry: He said you should not worry Mr. Farquhar, it will only take a day to clean up the mess and then he can get back to exploiting Filipino child workers and make you lost of money.
Phil: Is this true?
Julius begins to fidget awkwardly, then laughs nervously.
Julius: Clearly something is lost in translation. What he probably said was the children are upset that they will not be getting the money they sent.
Julius kicks Barry in the shin.
Barry: Yeah, now that you mention it, I think I mistranslated. That sounds more like what he said.
Foreman: Hanky panky number two, weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, JOHNNY KNUCKLES!
The name grabs Julius’ attention.
Julius: WHAT DID HE SAY?
Barry: He thinks the leader was the wrestler Johnny Knuckles.
Julius: That fiend! I should have known he would sink to such devious depths. Come on Barry, we need to find that man and make a strike in the name of “Quintessentially English Justice”.
Julius turns to storm off, but he is suddenly off his feet in a horizontal position and hits the concrete floor back first. He groans in agony. The forearm bursts into laughter, Phil and Barry do their best to suppress their humour.
Julius: Barry, you useless piece of human waste, do not just stand by idly, help me up.
Barry rushes over and helps Julius to his feet. Barry bends down and picks up the culprit – a stray soggy tea bag. The Forearm continues to laugh, pausing briefly to say.
Foreman: FUNNY ENGLISHMAN! YOU GOT TEA-BAGGED!
Julius fumes and storms off as the scene fades.
*
Somewhere in Quezon City the APW Tap Out Champion Julius Farquhar is surveying the scene created by the swarm of more than 2.7 million souls. The camera, following Julius’ gaze, is focussed on a scene on the opposite of the road. Two men approach each other and exchange a warm and smiling handshake. The camera zooms out and as it does Julius looks at the camera.
Julius: Here in the Philippines showing appropriate respect for another person and their status is one a custom of fundamental importance. It is the mark and measure of a person the extent to which they respect other people in society. To ignore this custom is encourage shame, or Hiya, a blemish it can take generations to remove.
It is appropriate that this latest edition of Asylum will be broadcast from the Philippines because at no time more than now has there been a need to instil respect among the ranks of the Asylum roster. Ever since I came from Overdrive I have been committed to making Asylum a much more respectful and credible product. A place that was now run by animals like Rico Casteel, Mike Morrison and Jason Kash, is now elevated by the ubiquitous presence of the “Quintessentially English”. My mission statement has been to spread “Quintessentially English Justice” and return some respect to a world gone made.
My match with Johnny Knuckles could not come at a better time because if there is any man on the roster who needs a lesson in respect it is this man.
Johnny, you can talk all day long, you can talk until you give yourself a toothache, but nothing you say can or will ever change the undeniable fact that you are a loser. You always were. You always will be.
Sunshine, you need to learn some manners, and that means acknowledging those folk who stand above you in the hierarchy. I do not mean you need to buy Reginald Schmidt a bunch of flowers every time you see him, but it does mean you recognise that I am better than you. A better wrestler. A better champion, oh wait you have no idea about that. And an all-round better specimen of humanity.
The irony that seems to be lost on Mr. Knuckles is that as much as he protests that he has no respect for me, what he really wants more than anything else is just the smallest acknowledgement from brilliant athletes like myself. Well, Johnny, you have no reason to continue with your needy drivel about ‘never giving up’ or ‘always being the one left standing’; you will get my full and undivided attention on Sunday and I promise I will apply all of my intellectual and physical capabilities to methodically twisting every sinew in your body in ways you never thought possible.
Julius smiles to himself; he turns around and takes hold of himself, turning back to the camera and showing the article to the world: with his right hand he holds up the APW Tap Out Championship belt; in his left can be seen a four leaf clover.
Julius: Luck is a remarkable notion. I have heard it said by many people that it is the key phenomena that separates success from failure; how does the saying go? Success is 99% talent, 1% luck. Well that may be the case for mere mortals, but for someone like yours truly success is determined by 100% bona fide “Quintessentially English” talent. It is the blue blood in my veins, not the vicissitudes of fate.
I don’t need luck; I don’t need pathetic symbols to cling on to in the hope that one day the ball will drop in my favour. Like a great batsmen, I do not rely on fortune of the conditions, but make the conditions work for. More often than not the result is I score a hundred before the umpires have called for lunch.
The Tap Out Championship belt I hold, Johnny, is nothing to do with luck. Sure it is a symbol, just like this four leaf clover, but unlike the leaf my belt a symbol that speaks of my talent, it tells the world I am among this business’ finest wrestlers. This has nothing to do with luck, but everything to do with the power in these two hands: the power to make others whimper because of the agony I inflict. It is not made of cringing words of self-motivation, as empty as the space between your ears Knuckles, but of deeds, of actions and an achievement your career cannot match in comparison. To be an APW Champion, Knuckles, is not a thing made of luck; but then I would not expect a multi-time loser also-ran to understand that notion.
Julius turns to something off camera and the camera pans to show us what he is looking at. We see a couple exchanging gifts. The voice of Julius is heard as the camera pans back to him.
Julius: Another local custom is the giving of gifts; it appears to be as natural as breathing to this lot. How fitting that my every appearance for APW, my every action, and every word I utter is a gift to the world. Crushing Johnny Knuckles inside the ring will be merely the latest present I offer.
I invite you Johnny to come and try to prove otherwise on Sunday. Bring all your anger, all that misery you claim you can inflict, but do not trust to luck Johnny, because in this game luck is for losers.
