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| Scene 2 Int. TWW Arena. 21.19 We fade up. We are looking at a back entrance to the TWW arena. As we watch, it opens and The Graduate steps through into the dimly lit, sparse setting of the backstage area. He is dressed in his blue and red tracksuit; a large sports bag slumped over his shoulder. In his right hand he carries a large bin bag, holding a mysterious large, flat, square item. We watch as The Graduate makes his way across the hall, his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. He reaches a junction in the passage and pauses for some considerable time. The camera zooms in over his shoulder to reveal a sign on the wall… The Graduate appears deep in thought studying the sign, making up his mind which way he should go. Eventually, he takes a deep breath and heads left. The camera stays focussed on the junction. After a couple of seconds, Jay re-appears, walks back across screen and follows the directions towards the arena. We fade out. Fade up again. Now we’re looking at the backstage area behind the curtains leading to the arena. A TWW official is checking the area, talking to somebody on a mobile phone. From the left, The Graduate comes into shot. TWW Official: - "Hey man, you can’t go out there, they’re just finishing setting up for the house show, they’ll be letting the fans in in just a second." The Graduate: - (Growling) "I’m cutting a mother-(bleep) promo, you got that? I can go wherever the hell I want." Jay walks through the curtains. TWW Official: - (Mumbling to himself) "…shouldn’t go out there…" We fade out once more. We fade up again on the Tidaltron, which is showing The Graduate’s trademark sign. "It’s just one of those days" Even though the arena, as revealed by a quick scan around by the cameraman, is completely devoid of fans, and is currently populated only by cleaners, security and assorted other backstage staff, Jay’s music still begins to play over the PA as he makes his way deliberately towards the ring. At some point since his arrival he has disposed of his sports bag, but he still carries the bin bag with it’s mysterious contents. Finally, the savior of wrestling reaches the squared circle. He hurls his bag over the ropes (it appears somewhat light) before clambering in himself. With no ring announcer to hand him a mic, he takes one himself from the commentary table. He taps it to check it is turned on before turning directly into the camera to speak. The Graduate: - "1-2, is this on? (Laughs to himself) Hello everybody! In case you can’t work it out for yourselves, I am talking to you at home. Those of you who seriously have nothing better to do with your time than sit around watching television, worse to sit around watching FOX. Those of you who no doubt tune in at this time daily to catch the latest promos from your favourite TWW wrestlers, guys like Chris Matthews, and Shawn Chase. Well I have long since accepted that I will never be as popular as those guys will, hell, I’ve long since accepted that I’ll never even be as popular as CorX. And I can look each and every one of you in the eye right now and say in all honesty that I don’t care. There was once a Graduate who was obsessed with being popular, obsessed with what other people thought of him. Well, ladies and gentlemen, esteemed TWW viewers, that Graduate is dead. This Graduate is obsessed with one thing, and that is success. Don’t get me wrong please, I don’t want success to prove anything to you, to prove anything to the so-called "athletes" in the back, nor I am bothered about how the distinguished Mr. Swift and his (Makes quotation marks sign with his fingers) "business partner" Mr. Miranda perceive me. It’s a fact; I could scientifically prove it to you if I wanted. I want to succeed for me." Now he reaches for the bin bag. He pulls from it a flip chart, which he proceeds to set up in the center of the ring. The Graduate: - "You see, these days everything comes down to…" He flips open the first sheet of his chart to reveal the word POWER written in heavy black marker in the center of the page. The Graduate: - "That’s right my friends, power! As a wise man once said, "Power Corrupts, Absolute Power is kind of neat". And absolute power is what soon I will possess. I promised you before Shockwave that I would start my march to the top with victory over Suicide, and sure enough, in the center of this very ring on Tuesday night, I pinned the patriotic little English pretender 1-2-3!" He turns the page of his flip chart. The second page contains a diagram. The Graduate: - "This diagram, and I don’t expect lesser individuals such as yourselves to understand it, details my plan for World Domination! A plan which starts here in TWW (He points to the top line of the diagram) and ends (He traces his finger down to the bottom line) well, let’s just say it ends somewhere far better than this. Now, I’m a realist, and this is a long-term idea. For now I have to content myself with the position I find myself in. But as far as I can see, I have a victory to my name against one of this two-bit, low-budget, no-star federation’s supposed title contenders. And maybe I’m just too logical, but it seems to me that that would make me one of this two-bit, low-budget, no-star federation’s supposed title contenders. And yet, this Friday at Critical Conditions, am I main-eventing? Will the fans be seeing any real wrestling high up the card of this momentous first pay-per-view event, which by the way I would not recommend you order? Of course not. Because I am fighting (He points to the name on his diagram) Loki the Trickster…in a library no less. Well, Loki, as you can see from my diagram, you are indeed an integral part of my plan, unintentionally or otherwise you have stumbled onto something big. But don’t let it go to your head, my old Trickster friend. You, as this complex calculation clearly shows, just a stepping stone. Because I am on my way to the top, and stepping over nothings like you is the only way I’m going to get there. Sure, things have got a little personal recently, I may have caused you a little pain, poked a little fun at you, cost you a title shot, you may even, once, have beaten me in the wrestling ring. But to me you are still a nothing. You could never reach me Loki; things between us will never be truly personal. Because quite simply, there is nothing you could ever do to reach me, deep inside. But still, I suppose you’re all expecting a promo addressed to my opponent. And as I said on Tuesday, I’m a traditionalist, so I won’t disappoint: - Loki, you’re old, you’re decrepit, like so much in this federation, in this world, you’re just falling apart at the seams. You’re small, you’re weak, you’re pathetic. You can’t really wrestle, you can just throw yourself around, and you can’t even do that very well. Perhaps the best promo I can give, Loki, is – Look in the mirror! Look at yourself. And then look at me! I’m young, I’m athletic, I’m talented, I’m well-motivated, healthy, clean-living, more intelligent than you could ever be, however many long words you learn and use. In short, I’m good, you’re not, live with it. And this Friday, Loki, we will undoubtedly see a brutal battle. The lucky library chosen to host our unique match will, undoubtedly, never be quite the same again. I will have to adapt my style somewhat to suit the circumstances, but I will still represent everything pure that ever existed between the ropes. And Loki, the outcome is not an issue. I will win. In fact, I have only one concern. You see my friend, as an academic, I’ve spent a lot of time in libraries, and I’ve always been taught that they should be kept silent. So you can imagine, it will be hard for me to lock on the Examination Day this Friday at Critical Conditions, because I know, I just know, that if I do then you’re gonna break the sacred silence by screaming like a baby. That’s my promo done, people. Now hit…my…music!" The PA crackles into life once more… "Nursery Rhymes are said, Voices in my head, Into my childhood, They’re spoon-fed…" The Graduate looks confused as the unusual and utterly unexpected music fills the arena. Suddenly the Tidaltron flickers into life. We see footage which has an eerie, dreamlike quality, the edges are blurred, the color washed out, leaving a dull brown. We see the inside of an old school. It is apparently long-since abandoned, wallpaper hangs from the walls, water drips from the ceilings as we traverse through various corridors. We cut back to The Graduate, stood in the ring staring. A sense of recognition spreads across his face. As the film on the Tidaltron continues, showing us empty trophy cabinets, classrooms with chairs still arranged neatly in rows, The Graduate’s expression grows in discomfort as it dawns on him where this route is taking us. He starts to sweat, gradually discomfort turns to a look of utter terror as we turn down one particularly long passageway. This leads to a single door, which looks pretty normal, a dull brown wood. As we approach the door, we increase in speed to a frantic pace. We reach it in no time, the camera falling on the room number hung in copper in the center: - 33 As soon as the camera has alighted on this figure, the Tidaltron abruptly cuts to black. Simultaneously, the arena lights cut out, plunging everything into darkness. We hear music once again. "Nursery Rhymes are said, Voices in my head, Into my childhood, They’re spoon-fed…" The lights return, The Graduate is on his knees, his head in his hands, shaking. Furious, he gets to his feet. In a rage he attacks his flip chart, tearing the pages out before aiming a flurry of punches at it until the metal frame has bent and it buckles to the mat. Jay falls to his knees again as we fade out. To Be Continued… Scene 3 tomorrow morning! |
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