[GUY]

SOMETIME IN 1998

Inside the living room. The loud sounds of a wrestling program could be heard coming from the box looking television. That television directly across from the clearly out-dated and poor taste in design looking couch. A young eight year old Guy was starting to stand up on the arm of the couch. In his left hand he was holding an old beat up pillow. His squeaky voice heard shouting over the commentary taking place on the television.

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- By Gawd! He’s climbing the cage!

With his feet steady on the arm of the couch. He gripped the pillow and proceeded to place it across his shoulders. Holding his arms over the top of very tightly and looking down at the couch cushions just below where he stood.

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- Say goodnight Pillow Man!

No hesitation or fear in the child. The eight year old leaped from the arm of the couch and flipped himself upside down. Slamming the pillow into the top of the pillow cushions while landing on his own head and neck. The impact of his tiny body landing on the couch was just enough to jolt the cough against the coffee table next to the arm that he leaped from. Hearing the lamp that set on that table rocking. The child turned around and tried to grab it.

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- No! No! No!

His tiny hands just missed the lamp as it rocked off the edge of the table and hit the hardwood floor of the living room. Instantly the loud sound of shattering glass seemingly echoed throughout the entire trailer. His child expression went as white as a ghost. Looking down at the broken lamp with fear and disappointment. All of the sudden the loud almost hateful like screaming could be heard from down the hall.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

Before he could even attempt to answer the voice that called from the back of the trailer. The angry footsteps could be heard stomping towards the living room. Right then he tried to scoop up the broken pieces of the lamp. Not that it was going to do anything. As he picked them up and went to stand up with them in hand. He was cut off short by the imposing figure of his mother. She took one look at him, the broken lamp, and what was on the television. Her blood boiling. Redness consuming her face.

[ M O T H E R ] -- How many times. How many times have I told you about this stupid shit?!

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- Mom. I’m...

[ M O T H E R ] -- Answer me boy!

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- Yes ma’am. You’ve told me too many. Too many times.

[ M O T H E R ] -- Too many goddamn times is right!

She stomped just a couple inches over to the television. The wrestling program was still playing as she flipped the knob to the TV and shut it off. Turning her angry gaze back to the child. In that moment the child felt bad for the lamp breaking, but was it really warranting this type of anger? Her voice got louder when she spoke up. Letting that frustration truly boil over.

[ M O T H E R ] -- No matter how many times I tell you. No matter how many times I repeat myself. You are too stupid to listen to what you are told!

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- Mom. I am really sor...

[ M O T H E R ] -- Enough of the back talk you little shit!

Before he even had a chance to react to her words. That open hand of hers met his face with a firm SLAP to the side of his jaw. Jolting his head to the side. Instantly the child was consumed by emotion. Pain from the lap. Fear from her tone of voice. Sadness from how angry she was. Regret for breaking the lap. A lot for him to process all at once. To the point tears started to roll down his cheek. Seemingly only angering his mother.

[ M O T H E R ] -- Knock it off before I truly give you something to cry about!

The child sniffled trying to hold back the tears. As the last thing he wanted to do was make the situation worse for himself.

[ M O T H E R ] -- You remind me of your father more and more each day. Emotional and useless. When are you going to get your act together?! Are you going to grow up to be a nobody just like him?! Jobless?! Unable to provide for your family?!

There were clearly some unresolved issues between his mother and his father. All of which she was projecting onto him. By no means was it fair or something that he had to deal with. Yet, right now as a child. This was normal. This was something he had to put up with. Trying to hold those tears back. He looked back at her. Shaking his head trembling.

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- No ma’am! I’m going to grow up to be a wrestler. The best one and make lots of money!

[ M O T H E R ] -- Ha! Delusional just like him. Having unrealistic dreams just like him!

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- No mom. I’m really going to be a wrestler.

[ M O T H E R ] -- You are a spitting image of him. It disgusts me!

She turned her face away from the child for a moment. That true look of disgust and disappointment covering her entire expression. It didn’t exactly make the child feel any better. His mother was meant to be supportive. Meant to believe in him and his dreams. Yet that was something she couldn’t seem to stomach. Finally she turned back to him.

[ M O T H E R ] -- I don’t want to see any more of that wrestling nonsense in this house. No more watching it. No more playing it. No more even mentioning it.

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- Please don’t! Please don’t Mom!

[ M O T H E R ] -- You heard what I said!

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- Why?! Why?! It makes me happy!

[ M O T H E R ] -- I will not repeat myself!

He felt like his heart was being shattered into hundreds of pieces. Just like that broken lamp. The one true thing that made him happy as an eight year old boy was being ripped away from him. The tears were back. Rolling down his cheek. This was the worst thing that could happen to him. Or at least the worst thing that his little mind would allow him to think what could happen to him anyway. His mother still looked at him with disgust.

[ M O T H E R ] -- Now clean all of this up! Then take your ass to bed. Do you understand me?!

The child looked up at his mother. Trying to hold back those tears and keep his emotions in check. Not something that was easy. Something that he wouldn’t learn to master for years to come. He just nodded his head very slowly and spoke with a shaky voice.

[ L I T T LE . G UY ] -- Yes ma’am.

Still holding onto some of those broken pieces to the lap. He dropped down to his knees in order to clean up the rest of it. His mother took one disappointing look at his child before turning her back to him. Stomping out of the living room and back down the hall of the trailer to where her bedroom was. With the child all alone again. He finally let his emotions all the way out. Weeping as he picked up those pieces. Thinking to himself over and over again. How could she do something like this to him? How could she take the only thing that made him happy away?

How could she tell him his dream was unrealistic? How could she be so heartless and cruel to him? Little did Guy know at that time. That was flesh and blood that was willing to do that to him. It wouldn’t get better with others in the world. That included random people he would come across and even others that he would consider family and friends. His wants, his desires, and his dreams were never taken seriously by anyone other than himself. And sometimes, just sometimes all you need is yourself.


Everyone was seated around the dinner table. Most of which was finished up at this point. Guy gets the privilege on this night to join the Harris-Reynolds family for dinner. Sliding his empty plate towards the middle of the table where Alessandra was gathering everyone else’s. With Oliver’s plate out of his way. He was leaning across the table with excitement. Doing his best to get Guy’s attention. Something that was second nature anytime Guy was around. It just puts the child on another level.

[ O L L I E ] -- Hey Guy! Hey Guy!

[ G U Y ] --  Ollie! My dude! What can Guy do for you?!

[ O L L I E ] -- Come paint with me! I got so many new things to show you!

[ G U Y ] --  Ooh! Guy wishes he could, but we’ll have to rain check it for another time.

[ O L L I E ] -- But why?

[ A L E S S A N D R A ] -- Oliver. Guy said not this time. That’s a good enough reason. He’s an adult.

[ V A N E L L O P E ] -- Questionable.

[ A L E S S A N D R A ] -- Don’t even start little lady.

[ G U Y ] --  Pfft! Everyone, it's fine! It’s fine!

Waving his hands about as if it was going to ease the little bit of tension going on. Oliver was sitting back down in his chair. Arms folded across his chest and sulking. About that time Guy turned his attention back to the child.

[ G U Y ] --  Guy is just in the middle of a very intense training camp right now. He’s got a tournament to win. Winner gets a handicap match with the Road Warriors. Guy wants to take down the greatest tag team in history! But to get there I gotta get past the Popstar Kiddo.

Oliver still pouted. Not exactly pleased with not getting his way, but being the age that he was. That was kind of expected. About that time Calvin found himself reaching across the table to grab the remaining dishes from dinner and looked at Guy with a puzzled look on his face.

[ C A L V I N ] --  Uh. Hate to burst your odd bubble here, pal. But the winner of the tournament isn’t getting a handicap match with the Road Warriors.

[ G U Y ] --  Nonsense! It’s called Blast From The Past for a reason, Cal! Guy knows what he signed himself up for. He’s taking them down!

[ C A L V I N ] --  No. You don’t know what you signed up for. It’s called Blast From The Past to honor wrestlers before us. You’re not facing the Road Warriors as a winning prize. Especially considering they’re not even on planet earth anymore.

[ G U Y ] --  They didn’t become Astronauts and go to space, Calvin. Don’t be silly now!

[ C A L V I N ] --  They’re dead, Guy! That’s what I mean by they don’t exist on Planet Earth anymore.

For a moment there was silence that kind of consumed the dining room. Everyone is looking at Calvin for being so brutally honest. Guy seemed confused by the comment a bit. Only for him to lean in towards Alessandra and make a side remark.

[ G U Y ] --  Pshtt! Sounds like someone is jellin’ Guy might get to face the Road Warriors and he doesn’t get to do the same thing.

[ V A N E L L O P E ] -- Well he is old and falling apart.

[ G U Y ] --  Huzzah! What a zinger! Suck a big on Calvin!

[ C A L V I N ] --  I’m old and falling apart. Meanwhile you’re grounded and spending this weekend in your room.

As soon as those words came out of her father’s mouth. It was the spiteful nature of the pre-teen to just mock her father’s statement with facial expressions. Calvin turning his attention back to Guy.

[ C A L V I N ] --  Believe whatever the heck you want, but honestly. It’s not going to hurt you to paint with Oliver for like an hour. That training camp isn’t going to do you any good.

[ G U Y ] --  Huh? What do you mean it’s not going to do Guy any good?!

[ C A L V I N ] --  You’re facing J2H. No training camp is going to be able to help you in that situation. It’s just going to be one round and you're done type of situation in this tournament.

[ G U Y ] --  Are you saying you don’t think Guy can beat Popstar Kiddo?!

[ C A L V I N ] --  I mean come on Guy. I know you’re a little delusional at times, bud. But even deep down you know you’re not defeating J2H.

[ A L E S S A N D R A ] -- Wow Calvin. A little harsh don’t you think?

[ C A L V I N ] --  Not at all! He knows. You know. I know. Everyone at this table knows. He’s not going to beat J2H. Yes, it sucks that’s how things played out. First round and that’s who he has to get in the ring with. That’s the nature of the beast with this tournament. I couldn’t even beat J2H. Granted I had a shitty tag partner weighing me down, but look at who we’re talking about. It’s Guy. Fun loving goofy Guy. That just doesn’t cut in the big leagues.

Silence consumed Guy. He just sat there at the table looking over at a man that he considered one of his best friends. A man that was now telling his entire family that he didn’t believe that Guy had it in him to win a match. Not against the so-called great J2H. Guy pushed his hands against the edge of the table and pushed his chair back. The legs of the chair scraping against the floor made a squeaky sound for a brief moment. With Guy slowly standing up.

[ G U Y ] --  Thank you for dinner Alessandra! Guy is very appreciative, but it’s time for him to go.

[ A L E S S A N D R A ] -- You sure you don’t want to stick around for dessert? I made something with banana in it. Just for you.

[ G U Y ] --  Ah yiiis! Very kind of you, but Guy really does have to go.

[ C A L V I N ] --  Guy. Sit down. You love Banana too much to skip out on this.

[ G U Y ] --  You know Cal... Guy expected more from you. He really expected you to be in his corner. That’s what best friends are supposed to do.

[ C A L V I N ] --  Hey now. There’s no point in making this personal. I’m just being honest with you. Make sure the blow isn’t as devastating with things do go sour.

[ G U Y ] --  Only thing that’s gone all Sour Patch Kids is our friendship. Thanks for letting Guy know who you truly are.

That was seemingly all the man in the cape had to say. He made his exit out of the kitchen and eventually to the front door. Everyone in the kitchen was glaring at Calvin, as they all heard the door shut a moment later. Alessandra narrowed her eyes in the direction of her husband. Calvin with a genuine look of shock on his face.

[ C A L V I N ] --  Babe...

[ A L E S S A N D R A ] -- I don’t even want to hear it. You better find a way to fix this and fix it fast. That man has been nothing but supportive of you. You should have done the same!

[ V A N E L L O P E ] -- Imagine being a massive tool, Dad.

[ O L L I E ] -- You hurt Guy’s feelings! I don’t like you any more!

[ C A L V I N ] --  Come on you guys! I’m trying to make sure he isn’t disappointed when this is all said and done! That’s all.

[ A L E S S A N D R A ] -- And like I said... Fix it!

His wife’s eyes narrowed in his direction. Both of his children pushed themselves up from the kitchen table and walked away. The realization setting in on Calvin. That maybe just maybe he hadn’t done the right thing after all. But then again everyone had to see his point. Guy had never been considered a serious threat. Guy had never been considered championship material. Guy had never been considered a Main Event player. He was just the comedic relief for all of Sin City Wrestling. How was he suddenly going to be able to shake that image and overcome the greatest man that had ever been in SCW? It just didn’t seem realistic.

The time had almost come. In less than six hours Climax Control would be under way and the next round of the Blast From The Past tournament would be all anyone was talking about. Another chance for history to be made for the company. With the scenery opening up at that particular moment to reveal a very long all white arena pulling itself into the venue of the building. Within a few seconds the limo came to a stop. Being put into park rather quickly.

The close up shot of the front license plate finally revealed more than enough. The plate reading “J-2-H” right across it. That’s when the limo driver could be seen stepping out of the driver’s side in a hurry and quickly jogging around the limo to the backdoor on the passenger side. Tugging on the handle of the door and pulling it open. Almost right away a pair of nice dress shoes could be seen hitting the concrete pavement. Before the cameras panned out some.

Revealing what everyone was expecting to be J2H. Instead it was a very sharply dressed GUY with what appeared to be a very boy-band like blonde wig on top of his head. Shouldn’t have taken the viewers very long to make the connection. Guy was clearly doing his best to mock the former four-time Heavyweight Champion and former Blast From The Past winner. It didn’t tale long at all for him to start walking all arrogant like and combing over his wig with his hand.

“I’m the great and amazing J2H!”

Guy offered up a smirk. Almost a spitting image of what J2H’s would look like.

“I remind everyone every single promo I cut. That I have done everything there is to do. I constantly sell the roster short and talk about how no one ever stands a chance against me. Because I’m the only one that can stroke my ego these days. I talk about all my title reigns every single promo too. Only way I can make myself stay relevant in conversations here in Sin City Wrestling. I also like to pretend to be a tough guy and act like I can just beat every single person up. Although, I look like I’ve never been in a fight a day in my life!”

Once again he was fully mocking J2H with his next actions. Cracking his knuckles like he was a tough guy. All while continuing to walk towards the cameras.

“I say edgy things like calling people idiots and saying they don’t deserve to live at the same time as me. For no other reason than I am stuck in the year two thousand and ten on what I think an effective Bad Guy is in wrestling. My catchphrase is so generic and boring, but I can’t help myself with ending every single promo I cut with “That’s Real Talk, Bitch” because I think it’s just so clever and so witty. And that’s all that matters. Me. Me. Me. The great, amazing, and all powerful J2H...”

All of the sudden as soon as those words came out of his mouth. Guy followed up with making a massively childish fart sound with his mouth. He held up his right hand to the cameras to which he proceeded to give a thumbs down to go along with those fart sounds.

“Sweet cream on an ice cream sandwich. Guy is trying to be nice here, but you have got to be the most boring generic vanilla flavored wrestler in all of professional wrestling. Not just Sin City Wrestling. Goodness gracious! How in da heck do you not see that? How in da heck do other people not see that?! How does no one literally chant “GENERIC CAW NUMBER ONE” at you anytime they see you in the ring or have to listen to you speak?! It’s enough to make Guy want to run into oncoming traffic just to never experience it again. You absolutely do not hit the mark that you think you are hitting. It’s twenty twenty five Popstar! It’s time to step the game up!”

Holding his finger up towards the camera. He gave it a little wang. Very ‘tsk-tsk’ like.

“Guy gets why you don’t want to though. Change is kind of a very scary thing. Especially when you’re a one trick pony and when you’ve had the Holy Christian fellas' lips tattooed to your bum for the majority of your career here. Never really had to work for much. It was just handed to you over and over again. Heck. How many times have you played the Houdni act over the years? Disappear for months at a time. To reappear and be thrown right back into the limelight! Rinse and Repeat. Rinse and Repeat!”

“Freakin’ lame as all heck if you ask Guy, but like he said. He gets it. You’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter. This one trick you learned has always worked out for you. No need for you to feel like you should change. But the times have changed my fren. Competition is stiffer. Competition is better. Sin City Wrestling is in a place where it doesn’t live or die by da lamest wrestler of all time J2H. As much as you like to think it does. You could not be more wrong, doofus.”

By that point Guy had reached the back doors of the arena. Yanking that door open to let himself in. Only to start unbuttoning that dress up shirt he had on. The moment the door closed and he started to walk down the hall.

“But you’re not worried about Guy, isn’t that right? You aren’t worried about what Guy can do in the ring. No worried about what Guy can do outside the ring. Heck, you won’t even give Guy the proper credit he deserves for some of the greatest marketing campaigns this company has ever seen. Remember Two Guys, One Cape? All Guy’s idea. Made this company lots and lots of money with that idea. You won’t even acknowledge Guy as the most entertaining King or acknowledge him as the single greatest referee that SCW has ever had. It’s more than just your ego J2H. It’s more than you just not being able to believe someone is better than you at anything. No, the main reason you’re not worried about Guy is because no one else is.”

There was a small shift in his tone of voice. He almost sounded ‘hurt’ and ‘bothered’ at this exact moment.

“The second Guy signed up for this tournament and had every intention of going the distance to get that Handicap Match with the Road Warriors. Everyone laughed at him. Everyone wrote Guy off. Everyone said that Guy wouldn’t make it past round one. So many times Guy heard the voices of fans, his friends, and even his family say things like: “Guy is too goofy.” or “Guy is just too unserious” or even “Guy is just good at being a comedic relief. Not the great wrestler type.” Every single time Guy heard that...”

“It bothered him. It hurt his feelings. It really made Guy feel bad about himself. Because the truth is no one knows who Guy really is. No one knows what Guy has been through. No one knows the hardships or the struggles Guy had to go through to get to this very moment. No one knows the untold story of Guy. Yet each and every single one of them are so quick to make a judgment like that and try to discredit Guy right out the gate. Not even willing to give him a chance. Yourself included J2H. Which is expected with you. But Guy didn’t expect it from the others.”

A pause consumed the Caped Warrior for a moment.

“If that’s how people choose to be. It’s their right to do so. If that’s who you choose to be. It’s your right. However opinions are very much like butt-holes, folks. Everyone gots one. It doesn’t make one more impressive than the other. And with that being said Guy isn’t going to let you get to me, J2H. He’s not going to let your ego bother him. He’s not going to let your lame, overplayed, and tired schtick get under his skin. Guy isn’t going to be bothered by your words. Nor is he going to be bothered by the words, the thoughts, and the opinions of everyone else.”

“Guy doesn’t need fake people in his corner anyway. Now that you’ve all exposed yourselves for who you are. Guy knows not to trust you and take everything you say going forward with a grain of salt. J2H, you might not have the belief or understanding that I could upset you and win. What was meant to be Guy’s minions. They might not think he can win. Everyone in the back might not believe Guy can win. But Guy believes in himself and that’s all that matters. Guy is prepared to dig down deeper than he’s ever dug before and shock the world!”

The expression on the painted man’s face helped tell a story. He was a very determined man. He very much believed in himself. He believed that he could pull this off, but the reality was just because you believed in something didn’t mean it was always going to come true. A harsh reality that he might end up having to face despite all of this self motivation.

“Guy does have one question for you Mr. Popstar. The moment that your King defeats you. Because it can and WILL happen. How do you recover from that? Hmmmm? Because as much as people like to imply that Guy isn’t smart. He is indeed. Very-very smart. This win would be the biggest win of Guy’s entire wrestling career. It would go down in the history of Sin City Wrestling as the biggest upset victory of all time. But when that happens, how do you recover? Because you know as well as Guy knows people’s opinions of you will change.”

“Oh how the minions are fickle the moment something doesn’t fit their narrative or opinion. They won’t be singing your praises as the greatest man or the greatest wrestler to ever exist here. No, instead all the bad names they want to call Guy. They’re going to start calling you those names. Names like a joke. Names like a loser. Names like a clown. You are quick to say you don’t care about these ‘idiots’ as you’ve called them in past. You’re even quicker to say they mean nothing to you. But we all know what the facts are J2H. if you’re not the center of attention. You melt down.”

“You become a little unhinged. You lash out. Kind of like a terrible twos toddler. Guy fully expects that when you lose and people start to hurl those insults. The moment you lose to Guy and reality sets in. The moment that everything you have ever worked for in SCW becomes overshadowed with a single victory. You’re going to have a full on meltdown, lash out, be that toddler Guy just mentioned, and then you’ll go crawling back into the hole. You like to retreat too for months at a time when everything isn’t about you. Good. Let that happen, but don’t come back this time.”

Finally the pacing of the man came to a stop. Finding himself right outside a locker room door with his name plastered over the front of it. The expression on Guy’s face still remained narrow and serious.

“J2H. You may be a four time Heavyweight Champion. You may be a former Blast From The Past tournament winner. You might be a certified Main Eventer. You are without a doubt a legend in these halls and the Hall of Fame status confirms that. You won it all., and done it all. However, the one thing you are not. You are not King. You are not the Incredible Guy With Cape. And you aren’t worthy of facing the Road Warriors at the end of this rainbow bridge partner. That’s only a privilege and honor for yours truly. Prepare to get MURKED tonight by King Guy. Been a long time coming for you!”