Flex Johnson [vs.] Jaxx Ryder [vs.] Farmer Dick [vs.] Allen Walker

Good luck.

Scene cuts to a Library, where Allen Walker is patiently waiting for the Library assistance lady to get off of the phone.

Library Lady: [On the phone] Ah, huh. Yuh, Uh tell the boys I'll be stopping by in a couple weeks. I haven't seen em' in a while. What are they, 5, and 7?

Caller: [Minor Muffling]

Library Lady: What? They is 15, and 20? Its, uh been a while I see. Well, I gue--

Walker: Ah, mam?

Library Lady: Well I will be stopping by, soon, and--

Caller: [Muffling]

Library Lady: Virginia? She's been good. I talked to her the other day, and her grandson Paul, he smokes the ganja now. Its all these kids do thes days, they--

Walker: Hello? Mam?

Library Lady: Oh, I know! And I cant say I didnt do it, but they--

Walker: [yelling, urgently] Would you just hang up the damn phone!

Library Lady: Oh Ive got to go Nancy. I'll call you back later.

The crazy old lady hangs up the phone.

Library Lady: Ah, what can I get for you sonny? Dr. Seuss?

She puts on her glasses.

Library Lady: Oh, you are a Man? A handsome one too--

Walker: Look Granny, I've been sitting here for 10 minuets, waiting for you, to get off your stupid phone. I'd like to see a book.

Library Lady: A book? We dont have those.

Walker: Hello?

Library Lady: Oh! Books! Thats right, okay what do you need?

Walker: I need the Oddessy. By Homer.

Library Lady: That should be in Myths, section B2. Ah, take a corner around the stairs, it should be on your left.

Walker: Thank you. Good day.

Walker struts away from the Desk, shaking his head. He takes the lady's directions, and finds the Odyssey. I picks it off the shelve, and sits down at a table.

Walker: ah, its been a while. I haven't read you in quite a While. 7th grade I belive.

He puts his glasses on, and flips through the pages.

Walker: We have much in common Odysseus. Much like you, I will indeed go on an adventur of my own. In the Insurgency Wrestling Federation. My upcoming match, well wont be much of an adventure at all. It will be a slaughter house!

[he laughs]

Yes, yes indeed. Unlike your obstacles, mine are not Cyclopses, and Sea Monsters. No, they are. Well, they are maggots. Scum. Bottom-Life. I was booked in the match, and I thought they were pulling my leg! It cannot be! Someone of my Luxury cannot be placed in the ring, with these. These vermon! These peasents! But, I buckled myself down. Ive realized, maybe I will only have to come across these gutter dusters once. If I'm lucky. Its quite embarrasing.

Much like that crazy old hag at the Desk, they dont deserve to be in my presence. I don't expect these "Wrestlers" will be well prepared. Not well-trained. Ive been wrestling for years, and I just cannot belive that I have to step in the ring with such scum. In all of my years, I have never been so insulted until now. Ive worked my britches off, for this?

You see, theres a "Man" by the name of Farmer Dick. Well you see, Dick is a big slap in the face to wrestling. Its a step back for IWF, and it sure as hell is a step back fro society. He's a dirt bag, Bizzaro Farmer, that decided he wanted to go "Wrastlin"! Oh the pity. I can hardly look at him, and the thought of him with that stupid Cock makes me ill. He can't hold out a conversation, and I doubt he can say his whole alphabet!
Look at it this way. Farmin, and Wrestling they just dont match! I'm sure he thinks they do. But he doesn't know a god damn thing. He's lost in his own world! I say, send that pathetic fool back to the farm! Hell, he's a disgrace to farmers as well!

I can imagine him now. With that stupid, blank look on his face. "Im gonna wrastle, I'm gonna do the big times with the big boys, and then, Im gonna buy some more chickens!" He's about as illiterate as a doorknob, and his IQ is negative! His damn chickens are smarter than he is! The poor bastard is gonna get his ass whooped, and I'm not going to be able to help him. and he doesn't have any friends! I can see why. I mean, besides that damn chiken, hes a lonely bastard. And shave off that god damn beard!
And then, my next "Obstacle" is Flex Johnson. now, hes about as pathetic as Dick, just without the overalls. His look is un proffesional, and he's exactly what gives wrestling a bad name. I can't give him as much dirt as I can Dicko, but he's not a prime time competetor.

One things for sure, I did not come into this company so I can wrestle mid-card hack-jobs like these bastards. Its not in my favor, and I just wont have it.
ah, where was I. Okay, so next Jaxx Ryder. "The Rockstar". He's not a rockstar. He's a watered down Steven Tyler, who cant sing, or wrestle. He's a douchebag! A snot! His attitude is about as fake as Farmer dick's chances of winning, and his look--- Oh his look. It looks like his closet consists of Ed Hardy Tee Shirts, that are much to small. and Hot Topic Womans jeans. His gimmick is dead, and he needs to come to truce with what he is! A phony.
The chains, the peircings, the "Hardcore" attitude, it's about as dead as Osama Bin Laden! Shot down, and tossed at sea. and the mohawk? I don't even have to say anything about that. What he needs to do, is burn his damn wardrobe, and begin listening to quality music. Like Bach, and Beethoven. I mean, atleast Dick is being himself! Jaxx Ryder is a loser.

As you can see, my obstacles are not much. An Inbred Hillbilly, Ice Cube's Rejected twin, and a Lowlive Rockstar Wannabee.

This is what they give me.

Walker stands up and brings the book to the front desk.

Walker: Yes, Ah I'd like to rent this out.

Library Lady: Alrighty Son, wheres your Mommy? I need her to sign this waver.

Walker: Open your eyes god damnit! Im 46 Years old!

Library Lady: Ah, let me turn up my Hearing aid.
----

Library: What was that son?

Walker: I'm signing this book out. Give me a pen.

Walker signs the waver, and checks out the book.

Library Lady: Do you need help finding your mother boy?

Walker: [Screaming] GO TO SLEEP GRANDMA!

Library Lady: If you say so!

Scene cuts to minuets before the match. Walker is caught stepping out of his car, and walking into the arena. Before
he can enter, an Interviewer grabs his shoulder.

Walker: What.

John: Ah yes, I'm John Baker from Wrestling Insider, and the fans want to know what you have in store for us tonight.

Walker: Oh, and Baker, Don't ever touch me again. Now Listen up Mr. Baker.--- Dick, Flex, Jaxx? Bring your notepads to the ring tonight because I'm going to teach you an important lesson. You, are three individuals, that after tonight, I pray that I will never wrestle again. It is embarrasing to my reputation to be in a match, with a bunch of no-bodies like yourselves. Dick, you are the epitimy of pathetic. Your best bet? Get on your tractor, and ride back to the farm, because noone here wants to be around you. You are vile, smelly, unettiquette, pathetic, poor, low, I cannot stress the fact that I will feel extremely uncomfortable putting my hands on you. And wash up, because the oils on your skin are going to make me break out. and I do not, break out. Jaxx? Get in your van, and go home. You are not a rockstar, you are not a wrestler, you are not a man. I can not respect this facade that you are laying apon the universe, I cannot stand your fake attitude, and I despise the fact that you think you can step in the ring with me. Jaxx? You seem to easy about this match. I suggest you get your damn head in the game, and out of your ass. And for god sakes present yourself! Trim whatever that is apon your lip, and heres a good one. Gather up 10 bucks, go down to the hair salon, and get that "thing" you call hair, cut off.

As for me? I'm bringing 10 percent tonight. Because I sure as hell wont have to bring 100. My plans and routines are confidential at the moment, but I suggest you watch closely.

John: Great! This has been Wrestling Insider, with John Baker.

---The camera cuts out---

John: Ah, Mister Walker?

Walker: Yes Baker?

John: May I get a picture?

Walker: Absolutely not. Get your beard trimmed up, and brush your teeth. Maybe then, you can take a picture of me, but I will never, take a picture with you.

Scene fades out.

|-|-| The scene opens with a sky shot of a small yet comfortable looking green farmhouse, with acres and acres of land separating the building from a large red fence. There is a small white house next to the farm, with a tiny deck in front of the house. On the deck we see a rocking chair, and a large, old looking basset hound laying sleeping in the son next to it. Cows roam free with horses and bulls in the green pastures, as the camera pans down closer to the farm exposing chickens and sheep and such in a little lean-to on the farmhouse. Inside of the farmhouse we see a very large man, sitting very awkwardly on a small wooden stool milking a cow. Or at least, attempting to. |-|-|

Farmer Dick: Awww c’mon now Mary Beth… I know you’re getting’ up there in age, but you gotta have a lil’ bit of milk left in your teats.

|-|-| Farmer Dick tugs a few more times, with no avail. He sighs and lets the cows utters out of his hands, much to the cows delight. |-|-|

Farmer Dick: Well fine… you be that way you ornery ol’ bag.

|-|-| Farmer Dick stands and turns around, looking startled as he sees the cameraman. He thinks for a moment before smiling wide and wiping the cow-utter residue onto his stylish blue overalls that cover a light brown pocketed shirt. |-|-|

Farmer Dick: Why howdy there! I done did went and forget ya’ll were comin’ to pay Big Dick a visit! Jeesh is it 8 in the mornin’ already!? By golly, between fetchin’ all the eggs from these dang chickens, and fussin’ with Mary Beth it’s impossible to get a single thing done roun’ here. No wonder the Happy Dick Farm is startin’ to feel the pressure of this dag-gone economy. Anywho, where are my manners? I’m Farmer Dick! It’s nice to meet ya’ll and welcome to the happiest place on earth! The Happy Dick Farm has been flourishing around these parts here in Arkansas for decade after decade. My Papa, Dick Sr. spent his final years alive trying to overcome financial problems, but that stinkin’ economy beat poor Dick too hard. He died of a heart attack last year, God bless his soul. But I digress, I’m here to tell ya’ll city folk that roam roun’ the IWF, Insurgency Wrestling Federation, that Big Dick is comin’ for ya!

|-|-| Dick looks ready to continue talking, but suddenly we see a rather large rooster approach him. Framer Dick’s eyes widen as the massive farm-bird stops in front of him, and Dick bends down and picks him up, much to the roosters dismay. |-|-|

Farmer Dick: By Lordy perfect timin’! IWFians, this here be my prized possession on my farm. I get a little too emotionally attached to my farm animals, but this here takes the cake by far. This here is Tessy, and he’s my prize winnin’ cock! Yes sirry, ol’ Tessy won the award for the biggest cock in all of Arkansas! That’s a very prestigious honor by goodness!

|-|-| Farmer Dick strokes the large cock in his big hairy arms, as the rooster just looks around not sure exactly what’s going on. The farmer returns the bird to the ground, and it waddles away, back to do… whatever it is roosters do. |-|-|

Farmer Dick: Now… what was it I was talking about? Ohhhh yes! My debut in the IWF is this week, and by golly they’re having me debut at they’re Pay Per View! Risin’ Monarchy it’s called. It’s gonna be one hella good time! The promoters there must really like Dick, puttin' him on a Pay Per View in his first match! But I’m not gonna go and be cocky, I’m facin’ some tight competition it seems. You see wrasslin’ ain’t like what it was when I used to watch it. Which kinda brings me to the first thing I wanted to talk about. I heard the rumblin’s around that Farmer Dick is here for nothin’ more than a big fat pay check. One of my opponents for this match, Mr. Flex Johnson seemed to be the most offended by this thought. Well Flex, since you seem to like ‘n’ criticize ol’ Dick, and ya seem to want my story, I’ll letchu in on it I spose.

You see Flex, back when I was just a little Dick, my papa was a wrassler in the Independent scene. He was ‘The Wild Hog’ Dick Country. It wasn’t the kinda fancy wrasslin’ ya’ll have grown into, but it was competition! Two big, rough, hairy fella’s punchin’ eachother until the other didn’t get up. My papa trained me when I was a youngin’, and we even wrassled as a tag team on the Independents before he retired. When he retired well, I had to stay off’a the ropes and help him get the farm back in order.

Ya see Flex, I’m not a wealthy man like yo self, nor am I plannin’ to become one wrasslin’ here with ya’ll. Like I said, my papa and I both had our fair share of the Independents, which weren’t seen as luxurious as they done seem to be now a’days. We’d wrassle for supper, some buiscits and gravy were all we were given for 20-30 minute fights. It seems that ya’ll three I’m facin’ in my debut don’t understand that Big Dick ain’t just someone lookin’ to pop in and pop out with a million dollar check. I love wrasslin’… I always have. I’m not here to get rich, I’m here to get enough money doin’ to keep my farm, doin’ the only thing I love besides farmin’.

Now Flex I ain’t pointin’ you specifically out, because you have a very long, decorated career they done went and told me. But ya got me all wrong if you think I’ve done come here to get rich. They went and told me about your past, and I do emphasis with you Mr. Johnson but as you yourself said, everybody in this world has troubles and hard times. I guess we all just handle ‘em a bit differently. Some people, like myself, try and make those rough times better with hard work and determination. Others, seemingly like you’self, try to use them as a crutch and a podium to judge ervery’body else. I’unno, like I said, Big Dick is pretty ol’ school.

But I digress again. Flex seems to be alright in my book, just a lil’ bit misguided maybe. Maybe a little bit bitter and hardened against this new school direction wrasslin’ has taken. The next fella on my list is… Jacks… Jaxx?... whateva… Jaxx Ryder. “The Rock God”. Well poo, and all these fella’s gettin’ all sour sayin’ Big Dick is in this just for money? That’s all that Rock ‘N’ Roll crap is now’a’day. Money, women, and crack cocaine! Now your parents seemed to have it right kid. Blues, Jazz, them the real kinds of music as far as I’m concerned. If there’s anything Dick likes more than a good ol’ hoedown, it’s the sound of the saxophone. Mmmmmmmhmmmm… good like gravy!

Now for the last fella’, Allen Walker, or “The Luxury”. This guy seems to done went and got a stick up the rear or somethin’, ‘cuz for someone that never meet Big Dick he certainly seems to harbor a lot of bad feelin’s toward me. Shoot, all he did was go and try to insult ol’ Dick. Fact is, almost all of what he said was true. I’m not the brightest hog in the barn for sure, I’m not goin’ta go and win no dag gone beauty contest be’cuz Farmer Dick ain’t no prized chicken, and in my eyes I am a step back for IWF. But I’d like ta think it’s a step back towards the good ol’ days. Ya’ll kids now think that everything has to be “pop culture”. Hard workin’ farm boys who get up at 5:30 in the morning and work their hands bloody until 9 at night just to go to bed and do it all over again ain’t cool in todays society. Definatly not as cool as a rock star… or rap star… or United Kingdom shoot wrassler. I’m never gonna claim to be cool. And I’m not gonna come out here and try to insult you Mr. Walker.

Wrasslin’ isn’t about who’s cool, or who can call who the meanest things. It’s about the fight! The hard work! The competition! By golly it’s about goin’ out there and poundin’ the snot out of a guy, then going back home and restin’ up until you do it again! So as far as this debut match goes? I’m not gonna win the popularity contest, be’cuz I’m not cool. I’m not gonna win the prize for best insult of the night, be’cuz my daddy taught me to respect your opponent, for they’re givin’ up jus’ as much as you are to get inta that ring. And I’m not gonna win the prize for be wrassler of the night, be’cuz I can’t do 3 flips, hell I can’t even do half a flip without splitin’ my noggin. What I can do? Is I can fight. I can use everything my daddy taught me years ago, and I can go out there and do what I do best. Work hard, get my hands dirty, and do my country best.

In short, this Dick is gonna pound ya, and pound ya hard.

|-|-| Farmer Dick nods at the camera and runs his hand through his massive beard with a big ol’ country smile. A few small pigs begin to oink in the background, and the basset hound from the porch approaches Farmer Dick. He bends down and pets the wrinkled dog. |-|-|

Farmer Dick: Awww there you are Bosco! We got work to do, don’t we! So if you kind fella’s will excuse me, I gotta get back to tendin’ to my farm before my son shows up. He’s gonna be watchin’ over things while Dick’s off beatin’ on them IWFians. But don’t worry, I’ll be brinin’ Tessy with me! One thing my papa always told me… never leave your cock behind. Yeeeeehaaawwww I’ll see ya’ll soon!

|-|-| Farmer Dick runs, or more so speed-waddles over to the chickens in the side of the barn and begins collecting eggs as the scene slowly fades to black. |-|-|