One Killed the Reality Star - A Christmas Special

[Level-Two]

#Theendoftheworld

On the couch in his penthouse suite, Level-One was engaged in an American past time. The glow of the television illuminated his face with the blue light reflection on his face while his right hand invaded a bag of Cheetos. He licked his fingers clean and wiped away what his tongue couldn't on his cheese stained tank top.

''What the heck are you doing!?''

He heard his side kick Andrew Meltzer over his shouldn't but didn't acknowledge him beyond a slight twitch of the head. He proceeded to pluck the remote out from Level-One's lap and then shut off the television.

''The fuck is wrong with you, man?'' Lester asked with his voice stressing a higher octave. ''Go home...''

''Dude, you stink. You smell like you haven't had a shower in like two days.'' Andrew Meltzer tastefully noted.

''It's actually been three to be precise.''

''Do you not know what time of the year it is? We're like just days away from Christmas and your here wasting away watching television.'' Meltzer lectured.

''Wrong. I was here watching tapes of CJ Gates trying not to throw up at how fake this guy is - it's been like ten minutes and he hasn't even called me a fuckhead... what a fuckhead!'' Lester exclaimed.

''Are you at least coming to the Christmas party tonight?''

''Christmas Party?'' Lester asked inspired by his own confusion. ''Wait, there's a Christmas Party? Who's coming?''

''Only the biggest names in Holly Wood?'' Andrew Meltzer said with a quizzical look his face. ''You're the one that set it up, remember?''

''Right.'' He said without a care in the world. ''Well, there's this whole 2012 world ending deal so I thought I'd just sit here and phone shit in, you know? I'd thought I'd chill out and do uninspired promo where I watch CJ Gates uninspiring promos while offering my two sense about his failing career here and there.''

Level-One rips the remote from Andrew Meltzers hand now that he's lowered his guard and flips back on the television where CJ Gates is getting his hand raised by a referee.

''Like here - on this historic night, CJ Gates has actually won a match. I know, given what we've seen lately it's pretty amazing. CJ Gates is pretty much batting a .500 at life and couldn't even hit a home run with Vannah White who's pretty much a high paid prostitute.''

''How much does she charge?''

''The fuck does it matter?'' Lester fired back. ''Remember the time she said she'd pay YOU before she'd ever fuck you? Something tells me that sentiment still applies to this very day, Andrew.''

''You're an asshole - do you know that?'' Andrew Meltzer asked to which Level-One confirmed with a nod of the head and a shit eating grin. ''Listen, get up of your ass and let's hit up that party. Think about it. If this truly is the last day of our lifes - do you really want to spend it worrying about CJ Gates?''

''I don't know.'' Lester said hanging his head low in shame. ''What about you? Do you really want to die a virgin?''

Level-One raised his head slowly and broke out into a fit of laughter while Andrew Meltzer's eyes narrowed. He grabbed his coat in a fit and stormed towards the front door while Level-One reclined in his chair.

''Oh, CJ Gates... you better pray it's the end of the world. At least that way, you can consider this a draw because while all men aren't born equal - they'll all die the same.''



One Killed the Reality Star (2)

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Techno music and strobe lights, it just wasn't a party without them. Inside the exclusive night club we see our villain wearing black dress pants and a white dress shirt being accompanied by his side kick with a lap top, Andrew Meltzer. Lester holding a glass in his hand proceeds to draw a sip of coke a cola and scans the talent on the dance floor. He spots a young lady wearing a Santa hat and a short red skirt that catches his eyes and moves in for the kill...

''Lester!?''

He was stopped dead in his tracks. It was Violet LeWinter and her sister Kia who clung to her sisters arm having a little too much to drink.

''Hey, ladies. Sorry, I'm late.'' Lester smirked. ''Is Kia alright? She's fucking wasted - you know, if the world doesn't end tomorrow she's going to sorrily regret this in the morning.''

''Santa claus isn't even fucking real, guys. '' Kia slurred as she took a drunken step forward. In a gaze she looked past Lester and at Andrew Meltzer clutching his computer. ''Hey, are you brad pitt?''

Lester Only nudged Andrew Meltzer and motioned his head encouraging him to lie. ''Why yes, I am...'' He replied.

Violet rolled her eyes as her sister rested upon Andrew Meltzers shoulders.

''So, where's the boss at?'' Lester asked.

''I don't know.'' Violet said with agitation in her voice. ''I saw him talking with some girl and I haven't seen him since. Terry Marvin said he'll take care of it and went looking for him about twenty minutes ago...''

Meanwhile inside the night clubs bathroom a stall is wide open and Felipe DeLoren is being tied up by a female assailant.

''You scream again and I'll cut off your tongue.'' The beautiful brunette said with a gentle smile.

''Who the hell are you?'' Felipe whispered.

''I'm Kimmy Shiankarda or better known as the victim of Lester Only's celebrity...'' Kimmy sighed. ''As I understand you were the man responsible for making it all happen. You pitched his television show to the networks and they ate it up and as a result he not only took my time slot but they didn't renew my shows contract.''

''Listen lady, I don't know what your function is but I swear to god if you do anything and I mean ANYTHING to ruin the Sindicate's dream match up of Level-One Vs. Terry Marvin at RASSLEMANIA, I will gut you from head to toe and hang your clitoris on Elton John's rainbow colored wall!''

Kimmy Shiankarda stares at an intense Felipe DeLoren as if she didn't grasp the intensity of the situation.

''Elton John? You know, I think he's here tonight.''

Outside the bathroom Terry Marvin impatiently waits in line. The line is about a mile long and doesn't seem to be moving faster.

''This is ridicolous! Do you know who I am? I'm Terry Marvin. I am the APW Undisputed champion. I don't STAND in line and I don't WAIT for nobody! You are looking at the REAL SHOW!''

Two women behind him look at each other in confusion before Terry Marvin throws his arms up in the air and exits the line. On his way back, he runs into Level-One.

''Terry my man! Hey, did you happen to run into Felipe by any chance?''

''No, I've been looking for him all over this place. I was going to check the bathroom but there's quite a line up.''

''Oh, those silly fans. Why would I sign autographs in a bathroom?''

Level-One can't help but crack up at his own joke before he placed a hand on Terry Marvin's shoulder.

''Oh, well. I wanted to speak to you anyways. I know you have a big match with Biggs coming up at Christmas Chaos and I just want you to know that I have your back out there if you need it. Rasslemania is our Super Bowl and putting this entire Sindicate thing aside for a second; wrestling you would be an absolute honor.''

''I wouldn't want it any other way, brother.'' Terry Marvin agreed before the two bumped fists. ''Hey, you aren't over looking CJ Gates by any chance, are you?''

''Who?''

At the bar, the bartender watches one of his customers very carefully. Tonight, he's been here at least three times and each time he's ordered the same drink.

''Coke a cola please.'' Lester Only orders. He watched bartender make his drink as he sat on the stool. ''You look like quite the miserable bastard, don't you?''

The bartender gave him a glance as dirty as Level-One had ever seen.

''Yeah, I get it dude. Life fucking blows, doesn't it? I don't know if you heard about but there's this entire 2012 world ending scenario a brew and between me and you? I think it's all bullshit.''

The bartender handed him his drink. ''You do?''

''Yeah, I mean call me self centered but if it all ended tomorrow it'd probably be the most uneventful, anti climatic, end game scenario possible. I mean... there's just so much to life I haven't done!''

''Fuck you.'' The bartender replied with a dead tone. ''Damn you, damn you to hell!''

The bartender reached under the counter as he broke down with tears streaming down his face.

''I've never been told I had this kind of effect on people...''

''You're rich!'' The bartender screamed. ''You're famous! Your successful. Fuck, you're even good looking and I don't care how gay that sounds! Me? I'm just a bartender. A fucking bartender just trying to make his way and every day, I hear people like you - people that have it all, complain...

I HAVE NOTHING!

It is at this point when the bartender pulled out a pistol and flashed it to Level-One. So, this is how it ends.

''You think this shit is easy you motherfucker?'' Lester shot back. ''365 days a year being on the road for nearly each one of them? You think it's easy being a father walking into your children's room and have them not even recognize their dad from that guy they saw on tv? Do you THINK it's easy missing a Christmas dinner because some PRICK named CJ Gates wants to take away EVERYTHING that you worked for!?''

The bartender said nothing.

''Then do it, you son of a bitch. You hurry up and get over with. You take that gun and you put me out of my fucking misery, RIGHT NOW!''

The man quickly tucked his gun away. ''I have a family too.''

''Then what the fuck are you here talking to me for?'' Lester lectured. ''Go home and hug them and don't you let them go... like I did.''

''She paid me to do it.'' The bartender confessed. ''Kimmy her name was... she paid me to kill you!''

''Why would you do it?''

The bartender leaned over the counter and looked right in his eye. ''I didn't want to have to work another Christmas...''

Lester Only reached into his pocket and removed his wallet throwing it towards the bartender without a care in the world.

''Merry fuckin' Christmas...''

''I'm sorry!'' The bartender said wiping away his tears. ''I swear I was never going to do it! God bless your soul...''

Meanwhile on the other side of the night club Kimmy Shiankarda is engaging in some small talk with Violet and Terry Marvin.

''So, did I tell you guys about the time when me and Ms. Hilton went to this...'' Kimmy started.

''Yes!'' Violet interrupted rolling her eyes and taking a sip from her drink. ''I'm pretty sure you've only told us three times.''

''How about you?'' Terry asked Kimmy lifting his drink in the air. ''Don't you want to hear about the summer, fall and winter of showtime!?''

Kimmy Shiankarda smile slowly faded.

''I'd love to but I am afraid your pathetic little sport isn't worth my time. It is men like you Terry Marvin whom have stolen the spotlight from people like me. You have a talent and I don't see how that's fair for the rest of us!''

At this point, Violet is feeling woozy. Her eyes glaze over and she falls to her knee eventually collapsing unconscious. Kimmy looks over to Terry Marvin who's body is shaking as he inches towards her.

''You stupid twit!'' Terry Marvin shouted. ''You should've have upped the dosage...''

''You think your unbeatable Mr. Marvin?''

Terry Marvin's legs give out as he collapses to the floor. He's able to remain conscious but the drugs have still taken it's toll on him.

''Well, there's our answer.'' Kimmy smiled.

Kimmy Shiankarda turns around and see's Level-One coming her way. Level-One see's Violet and Terry Marvin downed and approaches Kimmy who quickly pulls a switch blade from out of her bra keeping him at bay.

''EVERYONE LISTEN UP!'' Kimmy shouted but the music was too loud. Nobody could hear her - this much is the story of her life.

''Come on Kimmy - drop the knife. Prison isn't the way to revitalize your career... just ask Lindsey.''

''Fuck Lindsey and fuck you, Lester!'' Kimmy cried. ''All I ever wanted was to be SOMEBODY! All I wanted was a platform to express myself and I had that... and then? You, you had to take it all away.''

''I'm sure the Sindicate can pull some strings...'' Lester said inching closer trying to put Kimmy at ease. ''Hey, Rasslemania is coming up. They're always looking for some washed up celebrities to guest announce...''

''Washed up?'' Kimmy parroted in horror. ''I hate you Lester Only!''

A shirtless Andrew Meltzer innocently enough came running on the scene - it was the greatest night of his life.

''Lester, I just got laid man! Come on man - bring it up high!'' Andrew Meltzer bragged as he put up one of his hands waiting for a high five.

Kimmy Shiankarda sprung forward and stabbed the first person who was in reach - the knife protruding through her victims stomach.

''Andrew!''

Other party goers quickly apprehended Kimmy Shiankarda as Andrew Meltzer lay bleeding on the floor with Level-One coming to his aide.

''She got me, Lester...'' Andrew Meltzer said coughing up blood. ''I'm going to die, man...''

''You aren't going to die!'' Level-One said admiring the wound. ''She just nicked you, alright?'''

''Heh, she nicked me.'' Andrew giggled coughing on his own blood. ''Les, if I die tonight - just know that even after all those shitty articles I wrote up about you last year, I never meant any of them.''

''Come on man, get up - stop fucking around!'' Level-One demanded but Andrew Meltzer couldn't.

''You know what blows the most about this?'' Andrew asked his friend with a smile. ''I'm not going to be able to see Level-One Vs. Terry Marvin. That's every wrestling marks dream... ergh.''

The end.

---

You can't beat me.

I know it's hard to hear and even harder to accept but this is your reality, CJ. To be honest, I have never struggled so hard to get my ass out of bed until today. As a matter of fact this address from me to you is about for hours late as I battled with my alarm clock time and time again pleading with myself to allow me five more minutes...

I have wrestled world champions and legends inspired by the aura of competition - hell, I've lost sleep over having to wrestle a complete nobody like Kid Dynamo pondering the what iffs? However, one thing always remained unchanged - my inspiration for competition. CJ, I have been more enthusiastic to wrestle complete nobodies then I do you. At least when you look into their eyes - there's something there. They truly believe they can beat me. They truly believe they can be a world champion. They believe that one day, they'll be a legend! You? You're dead already. You may be here in the flesh but you're absent in both the mind and soul. I am ashamed I have to wrestle you as if I need to beat you again to prove my worth.

At Christmas Chaos when we're standing opposite from each other, I am going past your dead eyes and remind you that you mean nothing to me, CJ.

Nothing.

You're a drain on this company suffocating anything and everything around you that still has life. Your personality type is John Doe - a fucking carbon copy being deprived of fresh air. You are stale and void of all emotion AND the only entertainment value you offer is when you're getting your piss taken from guys like me and Terry Marvin! You became the face of this promotion only after I turned the other cheek and when given the opportunity to prove otherwise, it's your golden boy mug that carried the swollen body bags under your eyelids! Face it, we can't co exist. As long as I'm around, you'll never be anything special. You'll never be anything more then just a gatekeeper who acts as a litmus test and keeps the undeserving out - but hey, kudos...at least you got a tour of the castle that one time.

So given all this - it's easy to understand why I find myself lacking inspiration, CJ. You think I want to sit in front of this camera and trash you... again? You think I find joy in having to make a trip out days before Christmas to prove to the world beyond a reasonable doubt that I am and always will be better than you? No. I already done all this, CJ! However, it is your refusal to acknowledge this that makes this match possible. You continue to grandstand and outright lie to yourself and all your loyal GatesTown fans and lead the morons to believe you still have something left deep within that I haven't yet beat out of you. Though, I understand. The prepubescent children that accounts for the majority of your fan base have yet to grasp the errors of their own naivety.

That's their excuse, what's yours?

I mean do you honestly think you've actually earned this opportunity, CJ!? Much like your space buddy captain dipshit Biggs - you were a beneficiary of the Sindicate! You were both hand picked because we both already knew we could beat you. Unbeknownst to you ignorant children, you were had as much as to do with our plan as we ourselves did! So, in the name of the Christmas spirit, I'll be sending you both over some Sindicate themed merchandise for the Holidays. Thanks for playing and congratulations on being the first two honorary members of the official, non official team Sindicate! Your efforts are very much appreciated and will not be forgotten.

Still, I can find it in my heart to thank you for a job well done but I am saddened to hear you still haven't given me my due credit. It was my hard work and my constant acts of protest that made this match the contendership match it is - rather then a mindless brawl inspired by your jealousy it was going to be if I let you have your way. As a result - my actions over the past several weeks have been MORE then justified! I have proven beyond a reasonable doubt that guys like you who sit around and wait their turn are nothing more then chumps, easy marks and suckers. If it wasn't for me, you'd be still waiting your turn - sometime AFTER Rasslemania when the APW is running low on viable options to the point where they'd actually consider you!

Not only am I the REASON this match is occurring but the only reason anyone is remotely interested in this match beyond is because of me and the efforts of the Sindicate put forth into fooling the fans into believing you're a legitimate threat! For example, I couldn't allow a cretin like Chris Hart show you up on television and so I took it upon myself to execute a well timed intervention! There is nobody on this roster then understands Hollywood and the media better than myself and if I didn't step in the P/R disaster that would follow in the likely event you lost would be harmful to your image and credibility as a viable contender for the APW championship.

By now those idiots have already bought their tickets, ordered their pay per views and have booked a day off work not knowing that they have been scammed by the Sindicate! Am I going to get in trouble for what I have done? NO! Why? Because it's all about the bottom line, CJ! What I have done is good for business and put money in the pockets of those far more powerful then both you and I. Hell, if anything - I'm going to get a friggin' pat on the back and a promotion in the form of a RassleMania main event!

You know, I've been reading the message boards and one of your idiotic fans said that I don't respect any of my opponents. They say, I don't sell my opponents talents enough. They said that one day when I am trashing an opponent for having no skill, I will lose to them and I will be looked at as the biggest idiot alive... well to that I say, THAT DAY ISN'T GOING TO BE TODAY!

I have SOLD you, CJ! I have manipulated you. I have controlled you. I have made you work! In fact, you can start calling me your pimp daddy and I'll start referring to you as my BITCH! I tried to build you up, I tried to make you look good and it's STILL not enough! Fuck, I even laid down for you and you still couldn't the seemingly impossible... pin me for three seconds for the first time in your life. I'd argue that if you didn't have it in your heart then, you aren't going to have it in your heart when beating me matters the most! How DARE you think you can CHOOSE when to beat me! How DARE you pass up an opportunity virtually any competitor in this business would DIE for! How DARE you act like a win over me wouldn't be the single most important thing in your ENTIRE career - including your uneventful run as Undisputed Champion, a title which I have given it's prestige!

HOW DARE YOU!

If anyone is underselling what his opponent has to offer it's you, Sir Gates! At no time have you addressed me as anything more then an arrogant asshole worthy of your criticism! You stand before me as a disrespectful schmuck who hasn't yet found it in himself to fall to his knees and WORSHIP THE WRESTLING GOD AT THE HELM OF HIS FEET! However, it's not your lack of worship that is your greatest sin but your lack of belief! Your lack of belief you openly express in which you claim that I am NOT the wrestling GOD the records books say I am! Have you even READ the record books, CJ!? IT IS GOSPEL! There is UNDENIABLE PROOF of my existence!

Over one hundred wins - wins dating back to a time before the world even knew the likes of you existed! And time and time again, your wrestling god has given you the signs and yet you choose to ignore his calls. Time and time, he has visited you in the square circle and you thumb your nose in his direction and with pleasure you spit upon his name! Deep down, you can feel the weight of the wrestling's gods judgements coming crashing upon your fragile shoulders - these same shoulders that could barely hold the weight of the championship it once rested upon! However, CJ... there is always time to repent. There is always time for you to accept the existence of your wrestling god and spread the word of your endorsement to your fellow APW Mega Stars so they too can accept me as being the best thing in their pathetic life's!

You have NO right to judge me of all people, Gates! Each one of my wins were well earned and ended with your shoulders pinned to the canvas for at least three seconds! The last time I checked this isn't a silly video game and there is NO such thing as style points! I have beaten you one on one on two seperate occasions in addition to eliminating you from the chamber match and out preforming you in the Turkey Bowl when I aided Callahan in eliminating you from the match. So tell us CJ Gates... why should ANYONE believe that THIS TIME is any different?

SANTA CLAUSE ISN'T FUCKING REAL, CJ!

You? You're just like Santa Claus. You are APW's symbol of hope. You are APW's fat little fraud! Every other month you wobble out and pretend like you have a bag of new tricks but anyone who's ever counted on you just receives a stocking full of shit. The APW pretends like your some viable contender to the legions of children and mental midgets that cheer you on but they know full well it's just one big HOAX! And one day CJ? Your fans will finally grow up and realize that you aren't Santa Claus and Santa isn't real - they'll also admit to themselves that CJ Gates was never who he said he was!

CJ there comes a time where we all finally grow up. There was a time long ago when I wanted to be a policeman. A fire fighter. A doctor... somebody that actually brought something of worth to the world but I quickly realized the world doesn't work like that and I found myself running out of options. Every year, I'd send good ol' santa letter... and whomever they hired to read that shit probably had a hard attack as they realized how much of a troubled child I really was. I'd ask Santa Claus to shove his fat ass down the chimney and let me board his fucking sled out of hell... but he never fucking made it down here. I guess he just left me here to rot.

Well, your bullshit fairy tale ending isn't going to be spoken into existence, either.

You are the underdog and I am the shovel that buries you! You are the little choo-choo train that couldn't, wouldn't and never fucking did! You are the lottery winner who lost his ticket! You are the cancer patient that does NOT survive! You are...

You are CJ Gates.

I will knock you to the pavement. I will leave you lying on the road to Rasslemania looking up at the stars wondering what your life could've been with the sound of a sieren singing - a sound so soothing it'll put your mind at ease... so close your eyes.

This is the end.[/center]