The Internet's Out? ...Well, what's on Cable?
Jan 15, 2023 19:40:37 GMT -5
Lee Stone and TheNewBreed like this
Post by markflynn on Jan 15, 2023 19:40:37 GMT -5
OOC: Got the idea for this when the board's servers were down. They came back up while I was writing this. I still liked the idea enough to write it. No offense meant on anybody, just making jokes
A dark room.
Pitch black.
In the center of the room, your eyes can make out a silhouette of a big, square box.
...As your eyes adjust, the box's shape becomes more defined... Familiar.
It’s a television.
An ancient television.
The kind with dials on the side and an antenna on top.
…
Enter Stage Left.
Mark Flynn.
“Hey, ladies and germs! It’s your ol’ pal, Mark Flynn.”
…Flynn scratches his head.
“I thought I’d take an opportunity to give you a peek behind the curtain of how a Mark Flynn promo gets made. See, I spend hours… HOURS… Watching game tape, combing through results, cross-referencing promotional tweets… Slowing down matches AND promos to 25 percent speed."
“All in the effort of NOT ONLY understanding my opponent. Parsing through his (or HERS (it’s 2023)) in-ring actions and words like I’m examining the schematics of a machine of war, dissecting its components for its weakest point to strike!”
Flynn sticks a finger in the air.
“BUT ALSO… To create quality, entertaining content.”
“So, this morning, I crack my knuckles, brew a fresh cup of coffee, go to pull up the ol’ WGWF Network to start data-scraping every single Johnny Cable match…”
…Flynn’s eye twitches.
“And the WGWF board servers? Are down.”
Flynn exhales, trying to calm himself down from freaking out...
“When will they be up? According to our fearless, peerless leader, Majority Owner of the WGWF, ‘Chronic’ Chris Page…”
Flynn retrieves from his back pocket a notecard.
He lifts it to his face.
“...’Don't... Know.’...”
…Flynn lets the notecard fall to the floor like an Autumn leaf.
“Leave it to ‘Chronic’ Chris Page to book the BIGGEST CROSSOVER EVENT IN WRESTLING TODAY. The DECLARATION of WAR CCPE launches onto the rest of the sport… Like the ATOMIC BOMB being dropped on the unsuspecting Nagasaki that is EVERY FUCKING SCRUB DOOMED TO FAIL AGAINST US…”
…
Flynn sighs.
“And the day of the show, turns out he went and bought SECOND-HAND server storage.”
Flynn rubs his temples.
“Worst. Agent. EVER.”
…Flynn inhales, regathering his composure!
“Still! I would never leave an audience disappointed! We don’t NEED the internet to have a good time, kids!”
Flynn taps his nose mischievously.
“Every setback is just an opportunity to get creative finding a solution. And since I’m wrestling ol’ Johnny Cable this week, and Modern Technology has all but FAILED us today…”
Flynn grins.
“I say, why don’t we rewind back to the way we *used* to entertain ourselves… And see what’s on the ol’ Cable box.”
Flynn flips the knob on top.
FIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
The box lights up.
Static.
Flynn flips the knob again.
Still static… But somehow louder.
…
Flynn scratches his chin. “Hmm. I’m starting to see why we abandoned these.”
…Flynn holds up a finger.
“Hang on, I have an idea.”
Suddenly, SMACK!
Flynn’s right hand slaps the top of the box!
In a flash, the fuzzy static evaporates… And an image appears.
“Haha! Sometimes, they just need a little force to get going…”
The picture further clears up…
And the channel dial on the side of the box flips to ‘1’…
CHANNEL 01: NEWS
We see a newsdesk. Sitting at the desk with perfectly coifed newsman hair and stack of papers in his hand.
It’s‘King of the Midcarders' MASTER OF REALITY, Mark Flynn.
Flynn straightens the papers against the desk and looks into the camera.
“This just in: Tragic News. John Cable, Dead at 62.”
…
“Or, y’know, however old he was.”
The screen pans to a picture.
“John Cable, controversial social media personality and…” Flynn squints at notes like he’s double-checking the page. “Wrestler? Wow, I never knew that about him!”
Flynn straightens his factsheets once more.
“Allegedly, Cable died by asphyxiation late last night. Despite doing all they can, medical professionals claim they caught the hazard that killed John Cable too late to perform any life-saving procedures…”
“Apparently, Mister Cable had been in a position to choke to DEATH… ever since he challenged Mark Flynn, biting off WAAAAAAAY MORE than he could chew.”
“Funeral services will be held on Sunday, the night after CCPE vs The World, where the many who hate Cable will likely line up and take turns spitting on his gra-”
Flynn double-takes at his notes.
“...Oh, whoops!” Flynn turns beet-red.
“I got my wires crossed, folks. This is NEXT week’s news!”
Flynn puts on a shit-eating grin!
The dial flips again…
CHANNEL 02: THE SCIENCE CHANNEL
Flynn is standing on an old-school TV set, wearing a lab coat and a pair of goggles.
“Our next experiment comes from lil’ Davey DuBois in Duluth, Minnesota. Davey writes…”
“Great question, Dave, my boy! Now, real fossils occur when organic material like an animal’s corpse is buried under the earth for thousands and thousands of years. As layers of sediment build on top of the material, the ground hardens and firms, providing a natural protective barrier! This barrier encases and preserves the bone structure, which is how we can identify creatures that died off naturally centuries ago!”
…
“Of course, that’s not how John Cable himself formed! Let’s start our SCIENCE DEMONSTRATION!”
Flynn claps twice.
An unmanned metal cart rolls from off-stage onto the set.
Atop the cart is a bubbling green liquid.
Flynn reaches into the pocket of his labcoat and slips a rubber glove… SLAP! Tightly on his right hand.
“Now, this is hydrochloric acid.”
Fun Science Fact: Normally, hydrochloric acid is colorless! We added green food dye for fun!
Flynn lifts the beaker. It's lightly smoking...
“It’s non-constructive, it burns whatever it touches and it makes a big mess if not handled with care!” Flynn taps the top of the acid flask with his index finger.
“In other words, this is a great metaphor for John Cable’s words.”
Flynn sets down the flask gently on the table. He claps again.
Lowered from the ceiling on a string, like a big white piñata…
Is a large ball of… Kleenex?
“Now, this is a cocoon of tissue paper. A REAL cocoon protects a developing pupa as it matures into its adult form. However, this cocoon is thin and incredibly fragile. It couldn’t withstand the SLIGHTEST application of pressure.”
The cocoon very gently drops to Flynn’s eye level. Flynn puts his hands under it carefully, to show it off without breaking it.
“Here? We have a rock-solid analogy for John Cable’s ego.”
Flynn rubs his hands together.
“Now, for the experiment…”
“Let’s say, something incredibly innocuous happened… Like… Oh, I don’t know… Someone tweets that a wrestler probably shouldn’t call themselves ‘The Mandingo’ in 2023, given the incredibly sensitive historical context of that word.”
“See, a healthy person, with a stable ego, might say ‘this is an emotional, controversial topic, I’d best save my words inside and choose them carefully, that I might sensitively and intelligently share my opinion’...”
Flynn sneers an evil grin as he scoops the flask of acid off the table…
“Let’s see how John Cable would handle that situation…”
Flynn pours the hydrochloric acid into the tissue piñata…
And obviously, what bits that don’t immediately disintegrate, end up a wet, floppy mess that collapses straight onto the floor of the SCIENCE SET™.
“As you can see, Cable’s fragile ego collapses at the idea that anyone would believe differently than he would. And his half-formed thoughts SPEW EVERYWHERE. The discourse is inflammatory… Leaving a big, unintelligible mess.”
"Next, we'll talk about how juuuuuuuust little force it takes to break John Cable's arm... If you know where to twist!"
The dial flips again
CHANNEL 03: PBS
INSIDE THE WRESTLER’S STUDIO.
James Lipton is sitting on a couch on a stage. Across from him, of course, is Mark Flynn.
“Mister Flynn, obviously, based on what you’ve said so far…” Lipton pauses, as if selecting the perfect word from a library of choices.
Flynn sips at the coffee on the arm of his couch.
“It would SEEM… Or rather, one could infer, that you don’t see John Cable as something to fear. Do you… have ANY concerns about John Cable going into your match with him at CCPE vs The World.”
…Flynn scratches his chin, setting his coffee down.
“Well, James, CONCERN is a relative emotion. You understand?”
James nods, as if having been bestowed upon a pearl of sage wisdom.
“Do I have… ANY concerns going into my match with John Cable? Sure. I’m CONCERNED that Chris Page spelled my name wrong on the trophy he hands us when we win the main event elimination match BY DEFAULT… Because all the CCPE competitors have beaten the non-CCPE wrestlers in a clean sweep. I’m CONCERNED that John Cable will get himself #CANCELLED between now and next week and I’ll be in the ring at the big show, wrestling a giant censored-out blur.”
Lipton laughs affably. He reaches out and slaps Flynn on the knee in a jovial fashion.
“You’re, of course, being coy.”
Flynn stares down at the knee Lipton just slapped, with laser precision and a brewing rage in his eyes…
“But, surely, Mister Flynn. As a world champion caliber wrestler, you must have a realistic assessment of John Cable’s ability in the ring. Genuinely, no joke, what level of challenge do you believe the mind behind the New Breed Foundation poses to you...”
…Flynn points at the host.
“Touch me again, Lipton, and I’ll rip your f***ing arm off.”
…Lipton sweats.
“Now, Jimmy, you want to talk about whether or not I feel challenged, right? You want to talk about whether or not I’m WORRIED about my opponent?”
Flynn chews his tongue thoughtfully.
“Why don’t we put John Cable on a scale of my worries?”
Flynn stretches out his arm, extending his fingers flatly just above his head.
“See, at the top of the worry scale? There’s Peter Vaughn. I’m facing him at XWF Snow Job in two short weeks. He’s a five-time world champion across five different wrestling companies. He’s the winner of the World Series of Wrestling and, arguably, the greatest talent in the industry today. We’ve competed against each other four or five times and split the wins…”
Flynn snorts.
“So. That’s the top, right?”
Lipton nods. Flynn drops his hand a few inches in the air.
“Then, under that, Tristan Slater. I’m facing him at WrestleWars next month. Tristan and I have been battling in a blood feud for over a decade now. I’m leagues better than him, but he’s a crafty one… And a known cheater.” Flynn winks. “So, I have a reasonable expectation that Tristan will be coming to that show with a few tricks up his sleeve.”
Lipton smiles. “Ah, I see. You’re saying that you face so many more legitimate threats on a regular basis, that Cable simply doesn’t comp-”
“I’M NOT F***ING DONE, JAAAAAAMES.”
…
Flynn drops his hand a few inches.
“After that… Raion Kido hiring a locksmith to help him open his 24/7 briefcase that he’s held onto for EIGHT MONTHS.”
Another six inches. Flynn is now down to his ribs.
“Below that… I have a dentist appointment coming up. I forgot to floss one time three months ago. I can’t explain it… But I just KNOW he’ll open my mouth and immediately bring that up.”
Flynn drops his hand another foot.
“Below that, Jenny Myst getting a 24/7 briefcase in a month. I think she knows how to use one, but I couldn’t get pinned by Jenny Myst if she superglued my back to the canvas.”
Flynn stretches forward in his chair to keep dropping his hand. It’s now a foot off the ground.
“Then, birds.”
…
“I’m sorry. Birds?”
“Birds.”
”...Just… Birds in general?”
Flynn squints like that’s a stupid question. “You ever see a timelapse video of a bird blinking, Lipton? They don’t have eyelids like you and me. They blink sideways using a membrane. It takes one-hundredth of a second.”
“...I see.”
“And again.” Flynn re-asserts his hand is a foot off the ground. “They give me the creeps, but you put me in the ring with a bald eagle, I’ll break its goddamn wings off if the title’s on the line.”
The hand drops six inches.
“Then, Sam Voxx. Terrible wrestler, but she’s allegedly a witch. And I hate magic.”
Flynn takes a knee as… Snp. The hand claps onto the stage.
“And right there. Riiiiiight on the bottom. Is John Cable.”
Lipton takes a note. “I see… Well, I understand you’ve brought a clip to promote the match?”
Flynn nods, smiling. “Yes. Johnny Cable and I actually competed together in the West Coast Rumble earlier this month.”
Lipton smiles, looking at the camera.
“Well, let’s cut to that, then, shall we?”
The dial flips…
CHANNEL 04: CARTOONS
A cartoon world!
A boxing bell rings!
It’s a scuffle! A Kerfuffle even!
A group of rubbery-armed grapplers all jockey for control, throwing wild fists and kicks in every direction!
A big pile-up of fifteen toony tanglers turns into a big dustcloud of limbs and shouting!
WHAM!
Suddenly, everyone splits off in different directions! CLANG! They all hit separate turnbuckles!
Standing in the center of the circle is a Big Ape of a man. John Cable. A single-hair atop his otherwise shiny dome. The size of a mountain! Set to dominate by sheer muscle!
He raises his fists to the cheering crowd!
…Suddenly a hand tugs his tights from underneath! Cable frowns staring down!
About half his size, and with a face that’s like 85% beard.
It’s Cartoon Mark Flynn.
Flynn fishes into his pockets… And retrieves a big wooden sign!
It reads ‘GET OUTTA MY RING’.
The giant Cable scratches his head.
The smaller Flynn frowns, double-checking the sign… Before slapping his forehead, realizing Cable is probably too stupid to read.
Flynn points at Cable! Then points outside the ring!
…
Cable points and laughs at the tiny Flynn threatening the mountain of the man that is The Beast!
Flynn narrows his eyes unamused.
Cable stomps one foot! The entire ring seems to earthquake around him!
He stomps the other foot! The ring shakes even more!
Flynn’s rubbery legs bob and up down with Cable’s power!
…Flynn squints, spitting on his hands and rubbing them together!
He stomps one foot!
…The ring is stagnant.
…He leans down and whispers at the ring.
“C’mon man, you’re making me look bad here…”
SWIP! The massive Cable grasps Flynn as easily as a grape off the vine!
He grasps the back of Flynn’s tights… Yaaaaaaaanks them backwards aaaaaaaaand…
RELEASE! The back of Flynn’s tight slap into his ass, catapaulting him like a slingshot towards the ropes!
Flynn twists in the air… Bouncing straight off the ropes! And rebounds back towards Cable!
Cable is a sitting duck…
Until a giant blonde head dives in the way! Cable gets knocked to the mat and the blonde head flops over the ropes aaaaaaaaaand…
…And splat! Is eliminated.
The leviathan Cable looks over the ropes at his friend, that giant stupid blonde head… Who sacrificed himself to keep Cable in the match.
...Tears fill Cable's eyes! He's bawling!
He pulls out a skull from behind his back… And the Beast starts mumbling and grumbling the ‘Alas Yorick’ monologue, in tribute to his dearly departed friend,Tristan Slater that giant moronic head.
In the center of the ring, Flynn has pulled up a chair and a box of popcorn.
“So, wait, he can’t read… But he knows Hamlet?”
Cable’s ear perk! The Beast's face reddens! He charges towards Flynn!
Cable jogs up…
But, by the time he arrives, Flynn is gone…
And in his place is a… Bearded Amazon Delivery Driver?
“Package for John Cable!”
Cable points at himself.
The Driver (definitely not Flynn) gives him a slip.
“Sign, please.”
Cable writes a big X on the sheet.
The driver gives Cable a small brown package.
…Cable scratches his noggin. He opens it…
WHAM! A fist comes out the package! Cable sprawls ass-over-teakettle towards the ropes!
He swings his arms wildly to balance himself…
CAN HE STOP HIMSELF FROM FALLING?
…He teeters so close to the abyss…
…
Phew! He’s still in the match.
He breathes a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from his brow.
For a second there…
…
What’s that sound?
Cable looks behind him!
Flynn, now dressed like a lumberjack, is sawing the ring under his feet!
Cable gasps! The gargantuan Cable heaves the ENTIRE RING INTO THE AIR, EVEN WHILE HE’S IN IT!
And then lowers it down, flipped around!
Haha! Now, Flynn is near the outside and Cable himself is in the center! Flynn is sawing himself out of the ring!
…Still, Flynn saws.
And he finishes.
…And the entire ring around Flynn’s feet drops, including Cable.
Cable faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalls.
WHAM!
And John Cable is eliminated.
That whimsical mass of hair turns and smiles into the camera.
“Ain’t I a stinker?”
The dial flips again…
CHANNEL 05: SPORTS
“What a hit! Let’s get an Instant Replay on that one! That might be our Shot of the Week! Brought to you by Fireball! If you want to feel like you just got punched in the throat by someone whose fists are covered in Cinnamon, try Fireball!”
We see a freeze frame from the West Coast Rumble. Cable is holding onto the ropes at the side of the ring.
“Now, watch this, Cable is on the side of the action! What do you think he’s thinking there, Mark?”
“Well, Mark. If I’m John Cable, I might be thinking about how little is in my 401k OR how little hair is on top of my head. But, whatever is going through his mind, it’s not the match, because he’s standing out there in No Man’s Land.”
“Now, watch this!”
The shot plays forward in slow-mo…
“Riiiiiiiight… HERE!” The shot freezes again. We see Flynn, in the corner turnbuckle, making eyes at Cable.
“THAT is why Mark Flynn is one of the most dangerous talents in wrestling today, Mark. He’s got VISION. Other, less experienced wrestlers might have been distracted by Raion Kido and Peter Vaughn jockeying for control in a grapple…”
On the left side of the screen, a white scribble is drawn over Vaughn and Kido…
“Or even Debonair going toe-to-toe with Mark Cross…”
On the screen’s right side, another white scribble.
“But, as Sun Tzu once said, in the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity. Flynn looked at this chaotic ring, full of talent, and spotted a vulnerable Cable, with his eye so far off the ball, it’s basically in another zip code.”
A big white arrow is drawn from Flynn to Cable.
“Now, watch this!”
Sure enough, Flynn breaks into a sprint, played in slow-motion!
“Flynn is lightning quick. The average ring is about 20 feet by 20 feet, and that’s a distance Flynn can clear in less than a second if he knows where he’s going!”
Flynn sprints… Cable is still sucking air, trying to regain his composure.
“Flynn is looking to pick up the easiest elimination in the world on John Cable, when all at once…”
Suddenly, from just off-screen, Tristan Slater shoulder-blocks Cable, sending him sprawling to the mat and out of the way of Flynn’s knee…
Aaaaaand…
“Slater takes a knee square to the dome for Cable! Which is crazy on a number of counts, Mark.”
“Absolutely, Mark. Ya gotta remember, YES, OF COURSE, the West Coast Rumble is every man for himself… But the big story going into this match was Slater, Cable and Bane against Vaughn and Flynn. At this point in the match, all six men are in the ring and the first man out could swing the tide of battle.”
“Not only could, but DID, Mark! Slater got eliminated here and Bane just two competitors later. Two more later and we see a majorly one-sided defeat, that ended with Flynn and Vaughn outlasting their entire competition.”
“And this was AFTER Slater guaranteed that he wouldn’t let either of them walk out the WGWF Champion, correct, Mark?”
“He did, Mark. And, before you ask, one of them did win the whole thing.”
“Which brings us to this point. Why the HELL would Tristan Slater sacrifice himself to keep JOHN CABLE in the match?”
“That’s like, in chess, sacrificing your queen for a pawn.”
“That’s like, in Scrabble, throwing away all your vowels for an ‘X’ tile.”
“That’s like, in Tic-Tac-Toe, throwing away the center square so you can draw one of those Superman S’s in the margins on the page.”
“An absolute waste, Mark. As proven by the fact that Slater, Cable and Company were HUMILIATED at the West Coast Rumble.”
POP.
The screen goes dark.
Smack.
…
SMACK.
“...Ugh, sorry, kids. Only five channels AND the thing overheated… Sure, we got to have fun for a little bit. But, this ol’ TV? It’s a relic.”
Flynn lifts a flip and opens the back of the TV…
He reaches in and retrieves…
A broken bulb.
He shakes it. It rattles.
Flynn tsk-tsks.
“This baby runs on fuckin’ tubes, kids! It’s so far out-of-date, its heyday was closer to Lincoln’s assassination than the here and now! It should be left in a retirement home. Not even for the old people to watch… JUST to sputter and spark and NOT WORK, as people just reminisce about what it USED to be able to do…”
Flynn grins.
“Kinda like John Cable.”
…Flynn digs his shoulder into the back of the old-timey TV…
And pushes!
THE BOX TOPPLES! SHATTERED GLASS! The massive TV box is crushed under its own weight! The thin wooden sides flop over and the wires spark and fizz.
“However…”
Flynn snaps his fingers.
A new 4K, UHD, UHF, LED, LCD, AC/DC, Roku Grogu SmartER TV is rolled on a cart.
80 inches and thin as a needle.
The image looks so good that your eyes actually can’t perceive how good it is.
“I live in the present. Sure, I’m an older guy too, Cable. But I’ve been installing the updates. I’ve been fighting the new kids, learning their tricks. I’ve battled the best in this fucking industry, day-in and day-out for YEARS.”
“This year ALONE, I’ve logged wins against the best to ever lace boots and run ropes. I’m talking Corey Smith, Corey Black, Raion Kido, Peter Vaughn, Bobby Bourbon, Charlie Nickles… I won the fucking Cannabis Cup, a tournament that featured the best talent that SEVEN FUCKING FEDS HAD TO OFFER.”
“I went to the goddamn Tara Fenix Charity Event and fought Team Action Wrestling VIRTUALLY SINGLE-HANDEDLY. And I would’ve eliminated them all by myself if the official didn’t have his head up his ass.”
“I AM state of the art. John is the antique.”
“Me? I am the SINGLE-GREATEST ADDITION THAT THE WRESTLING INDUSTRY HAS EVER SEEN. I AM THE FUCKING INNOVATION THAT CHANGED THE GAME FOREVER. People watch what I do and know that things will never be the same!”
“I’m Netflix, I’m DisneyPlus. I’m the 3D screen in your home, I’m the VR wrapped around your skull. I’m new and once you’ve seen me, you wonder how you EVER lived without me.”
“I AM THE FUCKING FUTURE OF ENTERTAINMENT ITSELF.”
…Flynn smiles, sadly. Like he’s about to drop a bitter truth.
“Meanwhile, John-John?”
Flynn shakes his head.
“He’s still just Basic Cable.”
“And it's time we join together… And cancel our subscription…”
Flynn exits stage-right.
Scene…
…
……
………
Flynn pops back in.
“Hey, seriously, what happens when all the CCPE guys win our matches? Big pizza party in the ring or what?”
A dark room.
Pitch black.
In the center of the room, your eyes can make out a silhouette of a big, square box.
...As your eyes adjust, the box's shape becomes more defined... Familiar.
It’s a television.
An ancient television.
The kind with dials on the side and an antenna on top.
…
Enter Stage Left.
Mark Flynn.
“Hey, ladies and germs! It’s your ol’ pal, Mark Flynn.”
…Flynn scratches his head.
“I thought I’d take an opportunity to give you a peek behind the curtain of how a Mark Flynn promo gets made. See, I spend hours… HOURS… Watching game tape, combing through results, cross-referencing promotional tweets… Slowing down matches AND promos to 25 percent speed."
“All in the effort of NOT ONLY understanding my opponent. Parsing through his (or HERS (it’s 2023)) in-ring actions and words like I’m examining the schematics of a machine of war, dissecting its components for its weakest point to strike!”
Flynn sticks a finger in the air.
“BUT ALSO… To create quality, entertaining content.”
“So, this morning, I crack my knuckles, brew a fresh cup of coffee, go to pull up the ol’ WGWF Network to start data-scraping every single Johnny Cable match…”
…Flynn’s eye twitches.
“And the WGWF board servers? Are down.”
Flynn exhales, trying to calm himself down from freaking out...
“When will they be up? According to our fearless, peerless leader, Majority Owner of the WGWF, ‘Chronic’ Chris Page…”
Flynn retrieves from his back pocket a notecard.
He lifts it to his face.
“...’Don't... Know.’...”
…Flynn lets the notecard fall to the floor like an Autumn leaf.
“Leave it to ‘Chronic’ Chris Page to book the BIGGEST CROSSOVER EVENT IN WRESTLING TODAY. The DECLARATION of WAR CCPE launches onto the rest of the sport… Like the ATOMIC BOMB being dropped on the unsuspecting Nagasaki that is EVERY FUCKING SCRUB DOOMED TO FAIL AGAINST US…”
…
Flynn sighs.
“And the day of the show, turns out he went and bought SECOND-HAND server storage.”
Flynn rubs his temples.
“Worst. Agent. EVER.”
…Flynn inhales, regathering his composure!
“Still! I would never leave an audience disappointed! We don’t NEED the internet to have a good time, kids!”
Flynn taps his nose mischievously.
“Every setback is just an opportunity to get creative finding a solution. And since I’m wrestling ol’ Johnny Cable this week, and Modern Technology has all but FAILED us today…”
Flynn grins.
“I say, why don’t we rewind back to the way we *used* to entertain ourselves… And see what’s on the ol’ Cable box.”
Flynn flips the knob on top.
FIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
The box lights up.
Static.
Flynn flips the knob again.
Still static… But somehow louder.
…
Flynn scratches his chin. “Hmm. I’m starting to see why we abandoned these.”
…Flynn holds up a finger.
“Hang on, I have an idea.”
Suddenly, SMACK!
Flynn’s right hand slaps the top of the box!
In a flash, the fuzzy static evaporates… And an image appears.
“Haha! Sometimes, they just need a little force to get going…”
The picture further clears up…
And the channel dial on the side of the box flips to ‘1’…
CHANNEL 01: NEWS
We see a newsdesk. Sitting at the desk with perfectly coifed newsman hair and stack of papers in his hand.
It’s
Flynn straightens the papers against the desk and looks into the camera.
“This just in: Tragic News. John Cable, Dead at 62.”
…
“Or, y’know, however old he was.”
The screen pans to a picture.
“John Cable, controversial social media personality and…” Flynn squints at notes like he’s double-checking the page. “Wrestler? Wow, I never knew that about him!”
Flynn straightens his factsheets once more.
“Allegedly, Cable died by asphyxiation late last night. Despite doing all they can, medical professionals claim they caught the hazard that killed John Cable too late to perform any life-saving procedures…”
“Apparently, Mister Cable had been in a position to choke to DEATH… ever since he challenged Mark Flynn, biting off WAAAAAAAY MORE than he could chew.”
“Funeral services will be held on Sunday, the night after CCPE vs The World, where the many who hate Cable will likely line up and take turns spitting on his gra-”
Flynn double-takes at his notes.
“...Oh, whoops!” Flynn turns beet-red.
“I got my wires crossed, folks. This is NEXT week’s news!”
Flynn puts on a shit-eating grin!
The dial flips again…
CHANNEL 02: THE SCIENCE CHANNEL
Flynn is standing on an old-school TV set, wearing a lab coat and a pair of goggles.
“Our next experiment comes from lil’ Davey DuBois in Duluth, Minnesota. Davey writes…”
Dear Professor Flynn,
How does a fossil like John Cable form in nature?
Thanks!
Davey
How does a fossil like John Cable form in nature?
Thanks!
Davey
“Great question, Dave, my boy! Now, real fossils occur when organic material like an animal’s corpse is buried under the earth for thousands and thousands of years. As layers of sediment build on top of the material, the ground hardens and firms, providing a natural protective barrier! This barrier encases and preserves the bone structure, which is how we can identify creatures that died off naturally centuries ago!”
…
“Of course, that’s not how John Cable himself formed! Let’s start our SCIENCE DEMONSTRATION!”
Flynn claps twice.
An unmanned metal cart rolls from off-stage onto the set.
Atop the cart is a bubbling green liquid.
Flynn reaches into the pocket of his labcoat and slips a rubber glove… SLAP! Tightly on his right hand.
“Now, this is hydrochloric acid.”
Fun Science Fact: Normally, hydrochloric acid is colorless! We added green food dye for fun!
Flynn lifts the beaker. It's lightly smoking...
“It’s non-constructive, it burns whatever it touches and it makes a big mess if not handled with care!” Flynn taps the top of the acid flask with his index finger.
“In other words, this is a great metaphor for John Cable’s words.”
Flynn sets down the flask gently on the table. He claps again.
Lowered from the ceiling on a string, like a big white piñata…
Is a large ball of… Kleenex?
“Now, this is a cocoon of tissue paper. A REAL cocoon protects a developing pupa as it matures into its adult form. However, this cocoon is thin and incredibly fragile. It couldn’t withstand the SLIGHTEST application of pressure.”
The cocoon very gently drops to Flynn’s eye level. Flynn puts his hands under it carefully, to show it off without breaking it.
“Here? We have a rock-solid analogy for John Cable’s ego.”
Flynn rubs his hands together.
“Now, for the experiment…”
“Let’s say, something incredibly innocuous happened… Like… Oh, I don’t know… Someone tweets that a wrestler probably shouldn’t call themselves ‘The Mandingo’ in 2023, given the incredibly sensitive historical context of that word.”
“See, a healthy person, with a stable ego, might say ‘this is an emotional, controversial topic, I’d best save my words inside and choose them carefully, that I might sensitively and intelligently share my opinion’...”
Flynn sneers an evil grin as he scoops the flask of acid off the table…
“Let’s see how John Cable would handle that situation…”
Flynn pours the hydrochloric acid into the tissue piñata…
And obviously, what bits that don’t immediately disintegrate, end up a wet, floppy mess that collapses straight onto the floor of the SCIENCE SET™.
“As you can see, Cable’s fragile ego collapses at the idea that anyone would believe differently than he would. And his half-formed thoughts SPEW EVERYWHERE. The discourse is inflammatory… Leaving a big, unintelligible mess.”
"Next, we'll talk about how juuuuuuuust little force it takes to break John Cable's arm... If you know where to twist!"
The dial flips again
CHANNEL 03: PBS
INSIDE THE WRESTLER’S STUDIO.
James Lipton is sitting on a couch on a stage. Across from him, of course, is Mark Flynn.
“Mister Flynn, obviously, based on what you’ve said so far…” Lipton pauses, as if selecting the perfect word from a library of choices.
Flynn sips at the coffee on the arm of his couch.
“It would SEEM… Or rather, one could infer, that you don’t see John Cable as something to fear. Do you… have ANY concerns about John Cable going into your match with him at CCPE vs The World.”
…Flynn scratches his chin, setting his coffee down.
“Well, James, CONCERN is a relative emotion. You understand?”
James nods, as if having been bestowed upon a pearl of sage wisdom.
“Do I have… ANY concerns going into my match with John Cable? Sure. I’m CONCERNED that Chris Page spelled my name wrong on the trophy he hands us when we win the main event elimination match BY DEFAULT… Because all the CCPE competitors have beaten the non-CCPE wrestlers in a clean sweep. I’m CONCERNED that John Cable will get himself #CANCELLED between now and next week and I’ll be in the ring at the big show, wrestling a giant censored-out blur.”
Lipton laughs affably. He reaches out and slaps Flynn on the knee in a jovial fashion.
“You’re, of course, being coy.”
Flynn stares down at the knee Lipton just slapped, with laser precision and a brewing rage in his eyes…
“But, surely, Mister Flynn. As a world champion caliber wrestler, you must have a realistic assessment of John Cable’s ability in the ring. Genuinely, no joke, what level of challenge do you believe the mind behind the New Breed Foundation poses to you...”
…Flynn points at the host.
“Touch me again, Lipton, and I’ll rip your f***ing arm off.”
…Lipton sweats.
“Now, Jimmy, you want to talk about whether or not I feel challenged, right? You want to talk about whether or not I’m WORRIED about my opponent?”
Flynn chews his tongue thoughtfully.
“Why don’t we put John Cable on a scale of my worries?”
Flynn stretches out his arm, extending his fingers flatly just above his head.
“See, at the top of the worry scale? There’s Peter Vaughn. I’m facing him at XWF Snow Job in two short weeks. He’s a five-time world champion across five different wrestling companies. He’s the winner of the World Series of Wrestling and, arguably, the greatest talent in the industry today. We’ve competed against each other four or five times and split the wins…”
Flynn snorts.
“So. That’s the top, right?”
Lipton nods. Flynn drops his hand a few inches in the air.
“Then, under that, Tristan Slater. I’m facing him at WrestleWars next month. Tristan and I have been battling in a blood feud for over a decade now. I’m leagues better than him, but he’s a crafty one… And a known cheater.” Flynn winks. “So, I have a reasonable expectation that Tristan will be coming to that show with a few tricks up his sleeve.”
Lipton smiles. “Ah, I see. You’re saying that you face so many more legitimate threats on a regular basis, that Cable simply doesn’t comp-”
“I’M NOT F***ING DONE, JAAAAAAMES.”
…
Flynn drops his hand a few inches.
“After that… Raion Kido hiring a locksmith to help him open his 24/7 briefcase that he’s held onto for EIGHT MONTHS.”
Another six inches. Flynn is now down to his ribs.
“Below that… I have a dentist appointment coming up. I forgot to floss one time three months ago. I can’t explain it… But I just KNOW he’ll open my mouth and immediately bring that up.”
Flynn drops his hand another foot.
“Below that, Jenny Myst getting a 24/7 briefcase in a month. I think she knows how to use one, but I couldn’t get pinned by Jenny Myst if she superglued my back to the canvas.”
Flynn stretches forward in his chair to keep dropping his hand. It’s now a foot off the ground.
“Then, birds.”
…
“I’m sorry. Birds?”
“Birds.”
”...Just… Birds in general?”
Flynn squints like that’s a stupid question. “You ever see a timelapse video of a bird blinking, Lipton? They don’t have eyelids like you and me. They blink sideways using a membrane. It takes one-hundredth of a second.”
“...I see.”
“And again.” Flynn re-asserts his hand is a foot off the ground. “They give me the creeps, but you put me in the ring with a bald eagle, I’ll break its goddamn wings off if the title’s on the line.”
The hand drops six inches.
“Then, Sam Voxx. Terrible wrestler, but she’s allegedly a witch. And I hate magic.”
Flynn takes a knee as… Snp. The hand claps onto the stage.
“And right there. Riiiiiight on the bottom. Is John Cable.”
Lipton takes a note. “I see… Well, I understand you’ve brought a clip to promote the match?”
Flynn nods, smiling. “Yes. Johnny Cable and I actually competed together in the West Coast Rumble earlier this month.”
Lipton smiles, looking at the camera.
“Well, let’s cut to that, then, shall we?”
The dial flips…
CHANNEL 04: CARTOONS
A cartoon world!
A boxing bell rings!
It’s a scuffle! A Kerfuffle even!
A group of rubbery-armed grapplers all jockey for control, throwing wild fists and kicks in every direction!
A big pile-up of fifteen toony tanglers turns into a big dustcloud of limbs and shouting!
WHAM!
Suddenly, everyone splits off in different directions! CLANG! They all hit separate turnbuckles!
Standing in the center of the circle is a Big Ape of a man. John Cable. A single-hair atop his otherwise shiny dome. The size of a mountain! Set to dominate by sheer muscle!
He raises his fists to the cheering crowd!
…Suddenly a hand tugs his tights from underneath! Cable frowns staring down!
About half his size, and with a face that’s like 85% beard.
It’s Cartoon Mark Flynn.
Flynn fishes into his pockets… And retrieves a big wooden sign!
It reads ‘GET OUTTA MY RING’.
The giant Cable scratches his head.
The smaller Flynn frowns, double-checking the sign… Before slapping his forehead, realizing Cable is probably too stupid to read.
Flynn points at Cable! Then points outside the ring!
…
Cable points and laughs at the tiny Flynn threatening the mountain of the man that is The Beast!
Flynn narrows his eyes unamused.
Cable stomps one foot! The entire ring seems to earthquake around him!
He stomps the other foot! The ring shakes even more!
Flynn’s rubbery legs bob and up down with Cable’s power!
…Flynn squints, spitting on his hands and rubbing them together!
He stomps one foot!
…The ring is stagnant.
…He leans down and whispers at the ring.
“C’mon man, you’re making me look bad here…”
SWIP! The massive Cable grasps Flynn as easily as a grape off the vine!
He grasps the back of Flynn’s tights… Yaaaaaaaanks them backwards aaaaaaaaand…
RELEASE! The back of Flynn’s tight slap into his ass, catapaulting him like a slingshot towards the ropes!
Flynn twists in the air… Bouncing straight off the ropes! And rebounds back towards Cable!
Cable is a sitting duck…
Until a giant blonde head dives in the way! Cable gets knocked to the mat and the blonde head flops over the ropes aaaaaaaaaand…
…And splat! Is eliminated.
The leviathan Cable looks over the ropes at his friend, that giant stupid blonde head… Who sacrificed himself to keep Cable in the match.
...Tears fill Cable's eyes! He's bawling!
He pulls out a skull from behind his back… And the Beast starts mumbling and grumbling the ‘Alas Yorick’ monologue, in tribute to his dearly departed friend,
In the center of the ring, Flynn has pulled up a chair and a box of popcorn.
“So, wait, he can’t read… But he knows Hamlet?”
Cable’s ear perk! The Beast's face reddens! He charges towards Flynn!
Cable jogs up…
But, by the time he arrives, Flynn is gone…
And in his place is a… Bearded Amazon Delivery Driver?
“Package for John Cable!”
Cable points at himself.
The Driver (definitely not Flynn) gives him a slip.
“Sign, please.”
Cable writes a big X on the sheet.
The driver gives Cable a small brown package.
…Cable scratches his noggin. He opens it…
WHAM! A fist comes out the package! Cable sprawls ass-over-teakettle towards the ropes!
He swings his arms wildly to balance himself…
CAN HE STOP HIMSELF FROM FALLING?
…He teeters so close to the abyss…
…
Phew! He’s still in the match.
He breathes a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from his brow.
For a second there…
…
What’s that sound?
Cable looks behind him!
Flynn, now dressed like a lumberjack, is sawing the ring under his feet!
Cable gasps! The gargantuan Cable heaves the ENTIRE RING INTO THE AIR, EVEN WHILE HE’S IN IT!
And then lowers it down, flipped around!
Haha! Now, Flynn is near the outside and Cable himself is in the center! Flynn is sawing himself out of the ring!
…Still, Flynn saws.
And he finishes.
…And the entire ring around Flynn’s feet drops, including Cable.
Cable faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalls.
WHAM!
And John Cable is eliminated.
That whimsical mass of hair turns and smiles into the camera.
“Ain’t I a stinker?”
The dial flips again…
CHANNEL 05: SPORTS
“What a hit! Let’s get an Instant Replay on that one! That might be our Shot of the Week! Brought to you by Fireball! If you want to feel like you just got punched in the throat by someone whose fists are covered in Cinnamon, try Fireball!”
We see a freeze frame from the West Coast Rumble. Cable is holding onto the ropes at the side of the ring.
“Now, watch this, Cable is on the side of the action! What do you think he’s thinking there, Mark?”
“Well, Mark. If I’m John Cable, I might be thinking about how little is in my 401k OR how little hair is on top of my head. But, whatever is going through his mind, it’s not the match, because he’s standing out there in No Man’s Land.”
“Now, watch this!”
The shot plays forward in slow-mo…
“Riiiiiiiight… HERE!” The shot freezes again. We see Flynn, in the corner turnbuckle, making eyes at Cable.
“THAT is why Mark Flynn is one of the most dangerous talents in wrestling today, Mark. He’s got VISION. Other, less experienced wrestlers might have been distracted by Raion Kido and Peter Vaughn jockeying for control in a grapple…”
On the left side of the screen, a white scribble is drawn over Vaughn and Kido…
“Or even Debonair going toe-to-toe with Mark Cross…”
On the screen’s right side, another white scribble.
“But, as Sun Tzu once said, in the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity. Flynn looked at this chaotic ring, full of talent, and spotted a vulnerable Cable, with his eye so far off the ball, it’s basically in another zip code.”
A big white arrow is drawn from Flynn to Cable.
“Now, watch this!”
Sure enough, Flynn breaks into a sprint, played in slow-motion!
“Flynn is lightning quick. The average ring is about 20 feet by 20 feet, and that’s a distance Flynn can clear in less than a second if he knows where he’s going!”
Flynn sprints… Cable is still sucking air, trying to regain his composure.
“Flynn is looking to pick up the easiest elimination in the world on John Cable, when all at once…”
Suddenly, from just off-screen, Tristan Slater shoulder-blocks Cable, sending him sprawling to the mat and out of the way of Flynn’s knee…
Aaaaaand…
“Slater takes a knee square to the dome for Cable! Which is crazy on a number of counts, Mark.”
“Absolutely, Mark. Ya gotta remember, YES, OF COURSE, the West Coast Rumble is every man for himself… But the big story going into this match was Slater, Cable and Bane against Vaughn and Flynn. At this point in the match, all six men are in the ring and the first man out could swing the tide of battle.”
“Not only could, but DID, Mark! Slater got eliminated here and Bane just two competitors later. Two more later and we see a majorly one-sided defeat, that ended with Flynn and Vaughn outlasting their entire competition.”
“And this was AFTER Slater guaranteed that he wouldn’t let either of them walk out the WGWF Champion, correct, Mark?”
“He did, Mark. And, before you ask, one of them did win the whole thing.”
“Which brings us to this point. Why the HELL would Tristan Slater sacrifice himself to keep JOHN CABLE in the match?”
“That’s like, in chess, sacrificing your queen for a pawn.”
“That’s like, in Scrabble, throwing away all your vowels for an ‘X’ tile.”
“That’s like, in Tic-Tac-Toe, throwing away the center square so you can draw one of those Superman S’s in the margins on the page.”
“An absolute waste, Mark. As proven by the fact that Slater, Cable and Company were HUMILIATED at the West Coast Rumble.”
POP.
The screen goes dark.
Smack.
…
SMACK.
“...Ugh, sorry, kids. Only five channels AND the thing overheated… Sure, we got to have fun for a little bit. But, this ol’ TV? It’s a relic.”
Flynn lifts a flip and opens the back of the TV…
He reaches in and retrieves…
A broken bulb.
He shakes it. It rattles.
Flynn tsk-tsks.
“This baby runs on fuckin’ tubes, kids! It’s so far out-of-date, its heyday was closer to Lincoln’s assassination than the here and now! It should be left in a retirement home. Not even for the old people to watch… JUST to sputter and spark and NOT WORK, as people just reminisce about what it USED to be able to do…”
Flynn grins.
“Kinda like John Cable.”
…Flynn digs his shoulder into the back of the old-timey TV…
And pushes!
THE BOX TOPPLES! SHATTERED GLASS! The massive TV box is crushed under its own weight! The thin wooden sides flop over and the wires spark and fizz.
“However…”
Flynn snaps his fingers.
A new 4K, UHD, UHF, LED, LCD, AC/DC, Roku Grogu SmartER TV is rolled on a cart.
80 inches and thin as a needle.
The image looks so good that your eyes actually can’t perceive how good it is.
“I live in the present. Sure, I’m an older guy too, Cable. But I’ve been installing the updates. I’ve been fighting the new kids, learning their tricks. I’ve battled the best in this fucking industry, day-in and day-out for YEARS.”
“This year ALONE, I’ve logged wins against the best to ever lace boots and run ropes. I’m talking Corey Smith, Corey Black, Raion Kido, Peter Vaughn, Bobby Bourbon, Charlie Nickles… I won the fucking Cannabis Cup, a tournament that featured the best talent that SEVEN FUCKING FEDS HAD TO OFFER.”
“I went to the goddamn Tara Fenix Charity Event and fought Team Action Wrestling VIRTUALLY SINGLE-HANDEDLY. And I would’ve eliminated them all by myself if the official didn’t have his head up his ass.”
“I AM state of the art. John is the antique.”
“Me? I am the SINGLE-GREATEST ADDITION THAT THE WRESTLING INDUSTRY HAS EVER SEEN. I AM THE FUCKING INNOVATION THAT CHANGED THE GAME FOREVER. People watch what I do and know that things will never be the same!”
“I’m Netflix, I’m DisneyPlus. I’m the 3D screen in your home, I’m the VR wrapped around your skull. I’m new and once you’ve seen me, you wonder how you EVER lived without me.”
“I AM THE FUCKING FUTURE OF ENTERTAINMENT ITSELF.”
…Flynn smiles, sadly. Like he’s about to drop a bitter truth.
“Meanwhile, John-John?”
Flynn shakes his head.
“He’s still just Basic Cable.”
“And it's time we join together… And cancel our subscription…”
Flynn exits stage-right.
Scene…
…
……
………
Flynn pops back in.
“Hey, seriously, what happens when all the CCPE guys win our matches? Big pizza party in the ring or what?”