On Wrestling (Whitehead vs. Flagg)

[Kaji Fireson]

July 24th, 2015
Back Office
Steel Butterfly
Orlando, Florida

Jacob Whitehead, voiceover: God, not another one.

Jason Doyle, voiceover: Hm?

The video cuts in to show a massive man and a much smaller one seated on either side of a desk. The smaller one is hunched over a checkbook while the larger one is leaning back in a truly massive executive chair, a look of incredulity on his face.

Jacob Whitehead: My opponent for this first edition of Deception.

Jason furrows his brow as he scrawls a signature on the check, responding without looking up.

Jason Doyle: What do you mean by "another one" though?

Jacob Whitehead: According to what I've been reading online, this bitch claims to be the devil or magical or some shit.

Alright, hold up for a minute there.

Before we go any further, we have to make something very clear, Jacob. You can't go talking about that stuff. Just because that was Nathaniel Havok's schtick...well, you wouldn’t really have been privy to it, you know? You didn't exactly get an invitation to the Devil's Advocate Ball on the Shores of Cocytus.

Oh. You mean you’ve encountered other people who claimed to have mystical powers before him. From the long, long ago. And it was even a woman you were referring to?

Okay then. Carry on.

Jason Doyle: Well I'd say that's pretty impossible, Jake.

Jacob chuckles, a dark fog hanging over a sound normally reserved for merriment.

Jacob Whitehead: Yeah, well...I've seen some crazy shit in my life.

Jason Doyle: Would you care to elaborate?

Jacob smiles. Like his laugh, it is devoid of all warmth or joy.

Jacob Whitehead: As a matter of fact I would not.

Jason Doyle: Fair enough.

Jason adds one last mark to the check with a bit of a flourish.

Jacob Whitehead: All done with the bills?

Jason Doyle: Yep.

Jacob Whitehead: Good. I'm not making the same mistake twice.

Jason raises an eyebrow as he watches Jacob's expression darken again.

Jason Doyle: And I'm guessing you're not going to elaborate on that either.

Jacob Whitehead: Nope.

Jason nods.

Jason Doyle: Fair enough.

Jason keeps a smile on his face as he packs his checkbook up and pockets it.

Jason Doyle: Instead, let's go back to Miss Flagg.

Jacob holds up his hand.

Jacob Whitehead: Ah ah...not here.

Jason raises an eyebrow, then smiles, nodding.

Jason Doyle: Ah. Right. Fair enough.

------------------------------

July 24th, 2015
Recording Studio
Steel Butterfly
Orlando, Florida

We cut from the dark, cramped office to a larger room.

Well, the only part of it that the camera is picking up is a large beige wall as a backdrop for the upcoming promo, so I guess you'll just have to take my word for the room's size.

Jacob Whitehead is standing up, and at his full height, the height difference between him and his manager is even more dramatic, with the top of Jason's messy, dirty blond hair just about surpassing Jacob's thickly muscled deltoid.

(That's "JD is chest-high to the wrestler" in layman's terms.)

Jason is dressed in a crisp suit, charcoal gray with beige dress-shirt and accents, so in addition to being small, he sort of blends into the wall. Jacob, on the other hand, is dressed in navy blue slacks and a shiny button-front shirt to match it, with both clearly custom-tailored for his remarkable frame. He is glowering at the camera, but it is Jason that speaks first.

Jason Doyle: Hey there, internet. Now you may be wondering who I am. Well don't! My name's not important.

It's Jason if you must know.

But it's not important. This!

Jason gestures with a flourish to Jacob, who just continues glowering.

Jason Doyle: This is who's important. Some of you might remember him. Many of you are new and won't be familiar with him. Well get familiar with him! Because this is Jacob Whitehead. He has been called many things in his career and in his life, but you will all come to know him as...

Jason pauses melodramatically, his chest puffing out as he prepares his most bombastic delivery.

Jason Doyle: The Tormentor.

And if you think that sounds corny, I’ll take you back to 2006.

And no, “Steel Butterfly” is not what he was called. You’re halfway there though.

Jason Doyle: He may be in the undercard this week. It’s alright, we understand. When our illustrious leader, Vice President Johnny Rebel, was an active wrestler, Jacob came around and didn’t have the best run of things. Explanations differ depending on who you ask.

Some say Jacob was never any good and should never have come back to begin with, but those people are clearly not familiar with what hard work is, or the results of said work.

Some say he was misused, which is a train of thought I’m not totally familiar with or able to comprehend in relation to a combat sport. A sitcom maybe, but not professional wrestling. Whatever, those people are not worth listening to either.

Some others say that he was mismanaged, which I believe to be much closer to the truth. After all, with as much success as he saw, both here in APW and in VGW which he joined around the same time, and as much momentum as he was clearly able to build--

Jacob Whitehead: JD.

Jason Doyle: --it is inconceivable to me that anyone with even half a functioning human brain could let this man--

Jacob Whitehead: Jason.

Jason Doyle: --flounder just when he needed the most--

Jacob Whitehead: DOYLE!

Jacob, tired of trying to calmly interrupt his manager’s tirade, shouts loudly enough to rattle the camera, and also makes Jason jump visibly. He almost gets eye-level with Jacob before sinking back down to earth with a heavy thud.

Jason Doyle: My apologies. I got a little off-topic.

Jacob looks down at his manager with a smirk.

Jacob Whitehead: One woman at a time, JD.

Jason Doyle: Right. Well, the first victim for The Tormentor in this new era of Action Packed Wrestling is Nadine Flagg, and you know what I hear?

Jacob’s smirk widens.

Jacob Whitehead: What’s that?

Jason Doyle: That she’s spooky.

Jacob Whitehead: Oh?

Jason Doyle: And scary.

Jacob Whitehead: Oh dear.

Jason Doyle: And possibly not of this world.

Jacob Whitehead: Whatever will I do?

As this exchange has progressed, the pair have been affecting more and more frightened expressions, until Jason is pretending to be positively hysterical.

Jason Doyle: I think you’ll have to give up!

There is a silence. It lasts only five seconds, but after such rapid fire dialogue, it feels like an eternity.

Jacob Whitehead: BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

And then Jacob laughs, again rattling the camera. His peal of laughter rumbles through the room like a wave of rolling thunder. Jason is beaming at the camera, but you can’t help thinking he looks a little uneasy as the giant howls above him.

Eventually Jacob settles down enough for them to continue.

Jason Doyle: What...what’s so funny?

Jacob Whitehead: If this bitch thinks she’s a match for me, she’s going to need all the supernatural devil powers she can get. I’ve taken bigger shits than her.

Jason looks sidelong at the camera, putting his hand up to “hide” his words from Jacob.

Jason Doyle, stage-whispering: (It’s true, he has...the club was closed for a week while we got the smell out.)

Jacob Whitehead: In fact, I’d go so far to say that I want her to have weird voodoo magic, because if she’s just some crazy chick, this is going to be a real boring match for me. I don’t think she’s got enough strength to hurt me, no matter how high she flies, how hard she runs, or how low she kicks.

Jason Doyle, stage-whispering: (Well, he might be pretty peeved if she goes below the belt, so to speak...but that’s illegal, kiddies. That’s a disqualification, and we still win.)

Jacob Whitehead: So bring all the parlor tricks, the lighting tricks, the horror tropes. What I’m bringing is 315 pounds of pure, overwhelming strength that will grind you into a puddle of pasty white sludge with eyeliner streaks. After I am done with you, you’ll be lucky if you’re just looking up at the lights--you might even say the deadlights...

Jason shakes his head a little while Jacob’s not looking.

Jason Doyle, stage-whispering: (No, not so good.)

Jacob Whitehead: ...you’ll wish you’d chosen a different path, one with less pain. Maybe one where you walked out in front of a speeding van.

Jason Doyle, stage-whispering: (Better.)

Jacob Whitehead: Either way, you’ll have a lot of time to yourself to brush up on your dark magic...as long as you don’t need your arms to cast it.

It’ll be a while before they let you out of the body cast.

Jacob smirks, then walks off the set and out of the shot. Jason lingers a bit, doing the stage-whisper gag one last time, though he speaks a little louder this time; he doesn’t have to keep it from Jacob this time, after all.

Jason Doyle: You’ll have to forgive him. He’s not up on his literature, but he’s trying. He tends to focus his energy in...other endeavors.

Jason leaves that cryptic comment hanging as he walks off in the same direction, and a few seconds later, the scene fades to black.