Space Dolphins

(off comera)
Figgy struggles to find air. His eyes snaps open from blackness to find more blackness. Space. He’s floating in the middle of god damn space. Figgy, being Figgy, kind of doesn’t give the normal reaction to floating in the middle of space. He simply rolls his eyes and looses a silent sigh.Muttering two words that go unheard in the vacuous void of space.

“Not again”

He repeats that when he spots a speck of silver rapidly zig-zagging through the void. Half liquid, half metal it undulates straight toward our hero. He paddles, trying to turn his person about and away from the craft. A beam of light catches him before his futile flapping can amount to anything. The light increases in brightness, until it completely washes away the black of space.By the time the light fades, Figgy finds himself inside a ball,rotating slowly on it’s longitudal axis to simulate the effects of gravity. A silver ball floating through space, with oversized, over intelligent dolphins at the helm. One rather curious dolphin makes a beeline for the human

“Oh what is this. Obviously mammalian. Of the primate family. no tail but it stands upright? What an odd mutation. And look at the lack of fur. Obviously it lives in mild environments.”

A dolphin with an odd device over its nose pushes the chattery one to the side. An angry look upon its face.

“It’s a human. The same one that massacred one of our research ships leaving the planet. He has a huge bounty on him. Sardines to last a lifetime, and unrestricted access to the prime minister’s library if we take it alive. I ordered you to deploy the capture beam, it’s mine”

Figgy rolls his eyes. Cocking the weapon that makes all the dolphins cower away in terror. His left arm, heavily taped.

“Alright, ya fucks”

A feminine voice breaks through the scene.

“JACOB!”

Figgy shakes his head to find himself inside an office, laying on a chair. Across from him a pantsuited woman, tapping a clipboard in an irritated fashion.

“So. Let me get this straight. You skipped sessions and refills of your medication. That you, know a judge said you have to keep up on. But this was all because you stormed the fox news headquarters and were subdued by a time traveling minion of a voodoo magic puppet?”

Jacob sits up to interject, but she aggressively motions for him to lay back down.
“You died and became...as you put it. Wrestling Jesus. And with a left arm that makes things explode, you stormed fox news again participating in a battle aginst said voodoo puppets and zombies. One your side, there were...as you put it. Dolphins with freakin’ laser beams on their heads. It eventually lead to yo seeing the truth and having a hermaphroditic tryst with a timelord?”

Figgy shrugs slowly and nods.

“Well, yeah. I was very very busy. And there wasn’t a pharmacy in ancient rome. Well there was that creepy guy with leeches...but fuck that guy.”

The scribbling of furious writing can be heard while he speaks.

“I’m doubling the dosage , you’re obviously getting worse with those hallucinations of yours. And don’t tell me a biker gang is filling the capsules with cocaine again. That only works so many times. Now go home, chill out for five seconds and stay away from the ring...you have arthritis...and you’re twenty seven. You’re going to be a broken down old man in a wheel chair before you’re thirty.”

Jacob is nearly pushed out the door, trying to protest but it all being for naught. He sighs out loud when the door slams behind him. He looks to the receptionist. Some red head chick from the local community college, kind of cute.

“She kicked you out again? ...I think you broke a record this time”

Jacob rolls his left shoulder, his heavily taped left arm.

“Yeah, someone needs a lariat”

----

(On Camera)

“It’s been ten years since I was a goofy sixteen year old stepping between the ropes for the first time. After that first match, Mr. Propaganda refused to split a frosty with me...like an asshole. Ok, didn’t know about the type one diabetes, but he could have been nicer about it. Anyway, I bought some whisky off a hobo and got my first tattoo to celebrate my first match/ Yeah, the legality of all that is kind of sketchy...but I was running around with a false identity. I am getting way off track here...shut up, Figgy.”

“Each tattoo was a marking a mile stone. As you can plainly I’ve crossed many of them. Critics can talk about the one milestone I have yet to obtain. But I have dozens of tats for shutting them up. I’ve been on a long road. A perilous road. A road where I wondered countless times why I am on in it. Sure I deduced the simple reasons. My family has been in this since they came off the boat from ireland in the 1890’s. But that’s a weak answer, I’ve been breaking traditions like a mad man from day one. But I honestly can say, it’s because I just can’t sit still. I sit still, I get all fidgety. Neurons fire off rapidly and my mind fills with millions of images in a split second. I literally have to wipe myself out , keep running until I pass out just to get some sleep at night.”


“But I made a promise to myself. After many years of hearing that guy. The guy who bitches about the time spent on the road, the hours in the gym, the backstage politics. I promised myself the day I become jaded by this business. The day I feel even the slightest bit of discontent. It will be the day I stop. I’m a man of my word. I’ve been burned too many times. The last two years have been the most chaotic in my career. I’ve been blown up, electrocuted, ran into way too much barbed wire, thrown against way too many cages. Even when I was commentating here, I was in other companies kicking ass and kicking my own. I saved companies from killing themselves and they spit in my face in return. I think for the first time in my career I can actually say I am done.”

“I ain’t asking for banners and fanfare. Cause I ain’t retiring. I’m just taking a break. Just about every part of my body has some nagging injury I’ve been ignoring for years.So, at least for a while, Tim. This is my hoorah before I take a bit of a break.So. I guess a match where two guys who usually get roaring drunk and tear things up are told they can do whatever the hell they want. It’s a powder keg of awesome.”

“So um...loser pays for shots?...I dunno”