The Scales I'm In [FML NoC Part 2]
Jul 26, 2023 11:18:10 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 3 more like this
Post by flo on Jul 26, 2023 11:18:10 GMT -5
The sun beats down on the Epcot Mafia as they make their way onto the Miami Beach boardwalk. Your friendly neighbourhood Florida Man sits atop his Ultimate Warrior - like the former WWF world champion turned little girl’s bike was a Harley. The Sunshine State Stud is swarmed by a flock of pigeons that struggle to keep a glock airborne – Sky Force Delta. Trying to keep up alongside the bicycle despite his short legs, Gazoo is having his green body paint melt off under the oppressive heat. Rounding out the team is NFL great Dan Marino... who has been forcibly confined by the group since an ill-fated tag team attempt back in the Fireside. The chains binding Marino rattle against the concrete ground.
As the ragtag group start to notice other people wandering the boardwalk, their procession comes to a halt. Taking the chain from the Ultimate Warrior’s handlebar, Florida Man picks up the slack, pulling Marino closer. FML shapes up his hero, who has lost quite a bit of weight in the group’s company – then undoes the lock.
Florida Man:
All good things must come to an end. We’ve had a lot of amazing adventures, Dan, but it’s time for-
Before the gator that walks like a man can give a heartfelt goodbye to his hero, Dan Marino is making a break for it... the 61-year-old running like he never did during his quarterback days. The Epcot Mafia watches their most celebrated member dash down the boardwalk.
Gazoo:
You sure this is wise, Flo?
Florida Man:
Where were we going to keep him, Gaz? Since Nametag Melvin banned us from my Fortress of Solitude, we lost access to the freezer. Just as the Israelites were chased into the desert, so too has Nametag Melvin driven us from the 7-Eleven. Who knows what Promised Land we’ll find? Perhaps a Couche-Tard.
Gazoo:
I don’t even think we can mention that chain on the Network.
Florida Man:
See... a journey fraught will peril! It would all be too tough our resident dolphin. No. If you love someone as much as we love Dan Marino, ya gotta let them go. If he comes back, then Dan Marino will be ours forever... but if he doesn’t? He was never our Dan Marino to begin with... but some imposter.
Gazoo:
What if he goes to the pigs?
Florida Man:
Will you listen to yourself, Gaz? Dan Marino is no snitch. Have a little faith-
The second he sees a beat cop, Dan Marino points back at them.
Florida Man:
Stay cool fellas, no need to be alarmed. Dan probably wants the man to give us a citation for bravery, having rescued him from the Maoists.
Listening to Marino for a second, the police officer turns his attention towards our heroes and immediately draws his gun.
Gazoo:
Goddamn Dan Marino!
Florida Man:
Please Gaz, if that pig is brandishing his weapon like that, it suggests that the Maoists may still be lurking near. Perhaps we can still capture these malevolent idealists?
Warning shot.
Florida Man:
MAKE HASTE!
Ultimate Warrior:
DING!
With that the Epcot Mafia charge into a sea of palm trees just as fast as the Ultimate Warrior can carry them – either to beat up antiquated concepts of Chinese communism or make a cowardly retreat from the law, depending on your perspective. On the boardwalk models flock around Dan Marino, welcoming the famed NFL star back to human civilization. Even as he ducks bullets, Florida Man is happy for the dolphin. One less mouth to feed.
J-RoK headquarters. The building is actually rather nice. Without Kira around to sexually harass him, Florida Man actually finds the offices rather pleasant. The hallways are filled with his co-workers, who all looking to bribe him to get in good with Suzuki. That is very thoughtful of them. Quake even brought a wheelbarrow full of empties he can get the deposit on – yeah, Florida Man is looking forward to J-RoK chapter 2. The years that don’t suck. Time for all his hard work of coddling the insufferable Sky Force to finally pay off. Yet as the Floridian rolls around on his piles of random payoffs like he was Scrooge McDuck in the Money Bin, Suzuki returns to her office and the beautiful dream comes crashing to a halt. Some people just don’t know how to play ball.
Things go south fast.
Large faceless figures manhandle our hero, hoisting him up in the air like a toddler. For all his posturing, FML is utterly powerless in their hands. A squirming mass of impotent rage. For all his struggling, all Florida Man can do is draw attention to his pathetic state. The hundreds of well wishers are quick to kick our protagonist while he’s down. The gifts they hold are now used to mock, as they have no intention of forking the retirement fund over – instead pointing and laughing. What did Florida Man ever do to them to deserve such disrespectful treatment? And as funny as they find him being carried off – the shrill voices grow louder as he’s thrown to the gutter. Landing on his masked face, and on broken glass, Florida Man wishes he could melt into the filthy ground – escape with the crud into the sewers.
He hasn’t been this embarrassed since at least the night before.
“THEY’RE ALL GONNA LAUGH AT YOU!”
Florida Mom’s hysterical voice rings out, a reminder that she warned her Florida Son that his carefree antics would be stomped out by the decent people of proper society.
“I TOLD YOU SO!”
Florida Man:
...I... know... ma...
One of the coke cases that Florida Man is using as a pillow falls over, startling him out of his J-RoK nightmare.
Florida Man:
Huh? Uh... thank god... it was all just a horribly dream. That's the last time I eat rarebit before going to bed...
Gazoo:
Nah... that happened, Flo.
Sitting up from his soft drink display bed, Florida Man shoots his image consultant a dirty look.
Florida Man:
How do you know, Gaz? You don’t even know what I was dreaming about! So THERE smart guy, it could easily have just been a dream! Or do you have the powers of Freddy Krueger where you can enter into people’s dreams? Is THAT IT, GAZ? You been holding out on me? ‘cause if you do have that incredible dream entering ability, we should go back there and beat the shit out of Nausicaä! Dang, we might be able to make some inception money off your freaky power...
Gazoo (removes his garden sheer glove):
I am not a dream warrior. You just keep having the same one, from THAT TIME when J-RoK made you look especially awful. And it happened.
Florida Man:
Dang. (shaking head) ...They laughed at me, Gaz. ME – Florida Man. The most super serious character on the XHF Network. Like they didn't even appreciate how serious I was. Where’s the respect? It’s like they don’t even care how many Slim Jims I can stuff down my pants. WHICH IS A LOT, BY THE WAY. Where are their priorities? Don't they realize I could be the man who brings the big belt back? I'm fixing to actually stop BEEF's momentum - and they mock ME? What do I have to do to command these assholes esteem?
Gazoo (raises hands in defence):
Preaching to the choir, Flo.
Florida Man:
Well they’ll all be singing my praises when I get J-RoK the dang X*Crown. (looks around) By the way- where the hell are we?
The Epcot Mafia are hanging out in Casselberry’s Wawa. Our motley crew is trying out a new convenience store base of operations like they were hermit crabs.
Gazoo:
Wawa.
Florida Man:
WA- WHY? (oh no!) Wait – my Fortress of Solitude being destroyed by a restraining order – that wasn’t a dream either was it? Dang. It felt like a dream. How could you play us like that Nametag Melvin? I'm starting to understand Foxie's persecution complex, only it's real in my case, because I'm loveable and everyone is still out to get me for no reason - while he remains a dick. So no more 7-Eleven... but of all the chains we could try instead, why Wawa?
Gazoo:
You thought the name was funny.
Florida Man:
Not as funny as trying to sneak Couche-Tard past the Network censors. Speaking of censors... remember that time Sawyer did that big spiel about their mom being “ravished?” What a triggeringly grotesque display of vile melodrama by an inappropriate asshole. That lady who birthed them sure has been degraded in a lot of exploitative ways to make Sawyer look like they have some sort of emotional depth. Emotional depth of a thimble. Heard she died recently. Talk about milking a dead mom. Hope Sawyer is never up for the TAP OUT strap, or someone might “ravish” their mom’s corpse like it was sweeps week. What an irredeemable asshole. Speaking of irredeemable, this dive ain’t no Fortress of Solitude. Where are the magazines? Where are the fireworks? Wawa fails so hard at being a basic sandwich shop that people claim it’s a convenience store – but it ain’t failing up. There is nothing in it, and it’s so spacious I feel like I’m constantly being watched. (chugs a coffee) Like me stealing a cup of coffee might make this joint go bust. Wawa cannot be our new base of operations. Nah, this dive needs to rebrand itself into a roach-infested bodega... but until it does, let’s jet.
Knocking over the soda display as he gets up, Florida Man staggers past a newspaper stand.
Florida Man (reading paper):
Like that is something to brag about. I could do that with my eyes closed!
Gazoo:
You did. Footage from it has actually gone viral – your TikTok account is doing big numbers. Should really boost your profile going into Night of Champions.
Florida Man:
Ah Gaz, that is just the kind of incredibly cool thing that the XHF don’t want in an X*Crown champion.
Gazoo:
So we’re still rebranding?
AaaaaAaaaaAaaaAaaaaAaaaAaaaAaaaAaaa-
A group of teenagers are glued to their phones, watching footage of Florida Man’s Romulan Ale misadventure. Someone has autotuned our hero's agonizing dry heaving to make the trauma funnier. It really does help. If this awesome footage is as wide spread as Gazoo makes it seem, Florida Man is going to have a hard time convincing the XHF he’s trust worthy. Plus a certain Starfleet cadet may require a second box of wine to get aroused after witnessing the tsunami of puke, and Florida Man isn’t made of money. Rebranding it is.
Florida Man:
Don’t see how I have much of a choice.
Gazoo (clasping hands together):
...Then we should get a focus group to run your new looks past.
North Platte, Nebraska.
A rusty Ford Bronco pulls through a McDonalds drive-thru at night.
Behind the wheel is “Tumbleweed” Bill Stokes – a cowboy gimmick on a man the wrong side of eighty. There is no way he should still be driving, but Stokes hasn’t been charged with vehicular manslaughter yet. His tag team partner probably consumes the road kill. Riding shotgun is Dinosaur Bones, and he didn't even call it. In the backseats sit Florida Man and Gazoo – the foursome carpooling for a POPS tour.
This is the focus group.
Florida Man:
...So Trekker sometimes hangs out at your garage... I don’t suppose she ever mentions-
Dinosaur Bones:
SHE IS NOT THAT INTO YOU... BRO.
Bones nods at Stokes, proud of himself for cushioning the lurid ape gossip with the suggestion of kinship. Eventually picking up on the awkward silence, Bones decides to change the subject.
Dinosaur Bones:
IF YOU ARE THAT UNHAPPY AT J-ROK YOU COULD ALWAYS JOIN MY FEDERATION...
Florida Man:
Sweet! About dang ti-
Your Mother Lovin’ Florida Man is about to jump ships from J-RoK to DINOSAUR BONES, when he looks over at his image consultant. Gazoo raises a green eyebrow. This is a test.
Florida Man:
...thank you for your generous offer. I will take it under consideration. ...But as a matter of principle, I have to win the X*Crown for J-RoK to shove it in Kira and Sky Force’s faces.
Did he do good? There is a moment of silence, before the rest of the car nod approvingly.
“Tumbleweed” Bill Stokes:
Good job partner! I figured for sure you’d jump at the chance to “join” that “fed,” and Bonesy would fill up on you before Ronald Mac finished preparing our grub.
Florida Man:
I really wanted to jump ship, Billy. But part of cleaning up my dang image, means trying to reign in my impulse control "issues."
Dinosaur Bones:
A SHAME, MY FEDERATION HAS A WATER SLIDE-
Florida Man (triple take):
You drive a hard barg-
“Tumbleweed” Bill Stokes (consciously saving FM’s life for the gas money):
Changing your image. Whoowhee, that sure sounds mighty fancy. Have you thought about becoming a cowboy? We are all the rage these days.
Florida Man (uses permanent marker to write “become cowboy” on his arm):
I am now!
Gazoo:
We’re still in the initial stage.
Florida Man (mimes blowing his own brains out):
This is taking forever. I haven’t even had time to take off my mask and hook up with Brendan Harding yet, then send pictures to Foxie. ...Unless I am Brendan Harding... and have been all along... (mind blown) anyway we can speed this rebrand up? Not to rush you, Gaz, but I kind of want to make this old business before Night of Champions.
Gazoo:
You could ask people you want to emulate for advice, or mirror wrestlers whose success you appreciate. ...the easiest way to rebrand is to have a lot of money.
Florida Man:
I have that cool million! ...If only Nametag Melvin would let us back into my Fortress of Solitude.
Gazoo (explaining for the rest of the car):
He has a winning scratch-off, but can’t go in the store.
“Tumbleweed” Bill Stokes:
Well shoot, why not just send someone the clerk don’t know to collect the ticket for you? We’ll do it for you, buckaroo!
Florida Man:
No dice, Billy. You’re like a hundred and still working the indies. If Ric Flair taught me nothing, its that you old timers really love the sport... but mostly keep it up because y'all are desperately in need money...
“Tumbleweed” Bill Stokes (dejected):
...I like the ponies...
Florida Man:
And Bones here would just blow it on McNuggets.
Dinosaur Bones:
THERE IS AN OBJECT YOU CAN TRADE FOR MCNUGGETS?
McDonalds Clerk:
Here is your order.
Seven sacks of food are loaded in through the driver’s window. Stokes barely has time to shift out of the way as Bones starts to gorge himself on the bags. The feeding frenzy is such that a lone McNugget is sent flying through the air- landing on Florida Man’s knee.
Florida Man:
OUCH! THE PAIN! OH, THAT MCNUGGET WAS SO HOT THAT I FEEL I’VE BEEN LEFT WITH A PERMANENT SCAR... I probably got eight hundred thousand dollars worth of emotional damages over this incident! Who knew that fast food was initially warm? They should have a label or something! SYMBOLS THAT EVEN I CAN READ!
Gazoo shakes his head. They were making such good progress towards being slightly less Floridian. This get rich quick scheme is a clear setback from becoming Georgia Man.
Gazoo:
Good try Flo, might even work, but you’ll need to get rebranding money sooner than a lawsuit will provide.
Florida Man:
Dang.
Having finished everyone's meal, Dinosaur Bones looks up.
Dinosaur Bones (returning the conversation to Night of Champions):
THE DOUBLE QUARTER POUNDER REMINDS ME... THAT BEEF IS QUITE THE DISH. AND WHILE THAT STEVE APE LOOKS OUT OF SEASON, A LITTLE PAPRIKA WILL MASK HIS OFFENSIVE QUALITIES.
Florida Man (rubbing leg in actual pain):
Thanks Bon-
Dinosaur Bones (not really paying attention):
LET US CIRCLE THIS DRIVE-THRU AGAIN, SO THEY CAN PRODUCE MORE MCNUGGETS!
Gazoo:
That isn't how it wor-
"Tumbleweed" Bill Stokes:
You got it, Bonesy!
The vehicle begins to circle back to the drive-thru entrance, as the vicious cycle continues. Florida Man makes a mental note that Dinosaur Bones is in desperate need of rebranding. Must be a reptile thing.
The Triple X Club.
Located on a super yacht, the club caters to three-time X*Crown champions – a very exclusive group that currently only has two members.
Those truly elite XHF stars, Dylan Black and Zoran Sainovic – sit on opposite ends of a twenty-foot table in the dining room. At this stage of their six-course meal, the two men are enjoying roasted hydra, when their dinner is interrupted by Florida Man. The Panhandle Prince stumbles in through the help’s entrance, too busy admiring all the super models and mythological animals to watch where he’s walking. The mask also cuts down on visibility, but the permanent smile keeps him positive.
Florida Man:
Howdy fellas! Guess whose coming to dinner?
The two XHF greats look extremely uncomfortable at their uninvited guest.
Zoran Sainovic:
What is zis-
Florida Man:
Don’t get up – this won’t take a minute.
Looking around the room for a seat, FML finally spots one on a far wall. Grabbing an oak throne from the corner of the large room, Florida Man pulls it up to the table. In making himself comfortable, the Floridian leaves a forty-foot gash across the marble floor.
Dylan Black:
How did you get past security? (to Zoran) I thought wrestlers who had won less than three X*Crowns would burst into flames when stepping foot on our hallowed grounds?
Zoran Sainovic (picking up a solid gold telephone):
Zat was ze general idea- I’m getting to ze bottom of zis.
Florida Man (not wanting to be rude):
I’m sorry guys; I didn’t mean to interrupt y’all's black mass.
Zoran Sainovic (holding up hand):
Not at all, it is good zat you were able to bring zis security lapse to our attention. Zank you. I’m just making sure ze next time you try to visit us, you definitely spontaneously combust.
Florida Man (whistling in appreciation):
Technology can do that these days? What an age we live in.
Zoran Sainovic:
Yes. (turning as he gets through to security) Hello, I am currently speaking to one of my lessers, which I was assured would be impossible under our current security plan.
Florida Man (leaving Zoran to his phone call, turns to Dylan):
I was actually just hoping to pick your brain, Mister Black.
Dylan Black (rolling eyes):
Of course you were.
Florida Man:
Well, you see – you’re the only person who won an X*Crown for J-RoK. I am fixing to be the second person to achieve that... given how difficult our management makes Global events; I was just wondering if you had any advice you could share?
Dylan Black:
To become a J-RoK X*Crown champion?
Florida Man:
Yes. Anything at all.
Dylan Black:
You should burn down the Tokyo Dome.
Would that do it? Or is this another impulse control test? Florida Man rubs his hands together thinking about the warmth of the inferno.
Florida Man (having considered the terrorist act):
...Is this a flashback?
Dylan Black (taking a stiff drink):
God I hope so.
Zoran Sainovic (covering the receiver of his phone):
Why is zat?
Dylan Black:
Because then this conversation would be over.
Zoran Sainovic (nodding in agreement with Dylan while returning to his phone conversation):
Oh I see.
Florida Man (nodding too like he sees):
Well if that is the only way to get ahead in the world as a J-RoK employee...
Zoran Sainovic (hanging up):
Apparently zere was a mild system error when zey were implementing ze new Steve protocol.
Florida Man:
The new Steve-
Dylan Black:
Yes, our three time X*Crown champion club just added a rule, “No Steves Allowed” – so if some wrestler named Steve were to somehow claim the championship three times, he couldn’t hang out with us.
Florida Man:
Well you don’t worry about that fellas, you can count on me to make sure that Steve Awesome doesn’t get a chance to party crash your cool pad.
...The Super Frenemies burst into laughter. Florida Man is going to win at NOC instead of Steve Awesome? Have you ever heard anything more preposterous? Tears stream down the celebrated performer's cheeks, before they come to an uncomfortable realization.
Zoran Sainovic:
ha... ha... heh... Wait, you’re being serious?
Florida Man:
Damn right! I have just as good a chance of winning the crown as Steve does-
The gator-faced luchador can’t even finish his statement before The Super Frenemies are once again in stitches.
Dylan Black (holding his ribs):
Stop, stop!
Zoran Sainovic (wiping away tears):
Don’t take it personally Florida, but ze writing is on ze wall.
Dylan Black:
Did you see that panda that Mongo fed him? No one has had that easy a road to Night of Champions since Rat Bastard and Jack Diamond failed to win a match.
Florida Man (clearly hurt at their lack of confidence):
Well, I’m still going to try my best. ...Is there anything I can work on to improve my chances? I just want to become a better Florida Man.
The Final Boss checks his watch. They sure are taking their time recalibrating the jobber incinerating wave device. Might as well make the most of it. The great men share knowing looks, as long as they are stuck with this nuisance, they might as well have some fun.
Dylan Black:
Everything you’ve done to get to this stage? Stop doing it. It’s already been seen. The fans want to be surprised, they HATE consistency.
Pulling out his sharpie, Florida Man writes this sage like wisdom on his arm – “inconsistency.”
Zoran Sainovic (chuckling, and nodding at Black):
Yes, you no doubt have certain moves zat you have become familiar with... but a big title fight is ze best time to learn new moves. Don’t even practice zem beforehand, if you’ve never hit a shooting star press before... ze best time to figure out how, is on pay per view. Why practice when you can get it right ze first time?
Nodding thankfully, Florida Man keeps writing “new moves.”
Dylan Black:
If you do hit a finisher, take your time before making the pin. It’s more about looking like a champion than being the better wrestler.
This is all gold. The sharpie continues, “don’t make pins.”
Zoran Sainovic:
And your support system? Ze family, friends, coaches, trainers, and positive influences you have patching you back up?
Dylan Black:
...Drop them.
Florida Man (stops writing, and looks up confused):
Get rid of my friends?
Zoran Sainovic:
Dead weight. If you want to be a REAL champion, zere is no place for sentiment.
Dylan Black:
The best athletes exist in a state of constant danger. When the world is nipping at your heels, you have no one, and the only person you can stop to break bread with is your worst enemy - you know you've finally made it. Because he’s the only one you can actually trust.
Florida Man (conflicted):
...Maybe I can be a one time X*Crown champion and still keep my-
Zoran Sainovic:
Forget it. You’re going to cut zem loose eventually. Ze sooner you do it, ze easier it will be for everyone.
Florida Man:
...dang.
Head lowered in pain, Florida Man slowly rises from the table. He has a lot of work to do if this rebrand is going to be a success.
Florida Man:
...thanks... I think I have all I need.
With that the Sunshine State Stud staggers off, his mind elsewhere. For their part the Super Frenemies may have started their game with the aim of giving the worst advice possible, but the last jab resonated with them. The two men share faint smiles, before raising their glasses in a sad toast.
There’s was always going to be a club of two.
Leaving the success stories to their lonely existence, Florida Man drags his feet as he slowly exits the floating paradise. So many temptations. And this is for people who have won the X*Crown three times, FML hasn't done it once. Maybe he can get a hammock? That'd be neat. Keep it in perspective before you do anything drastic, Florida Man!
Deeply conflicted, Florida Man steps out into the cold night air. It starts to rain.
The water might be a refreshing sensation after this latest gut punch, but he barely feels the damp sensation through his heavy mask. Yet as numb as he is, the Florida Man is going to need even thicker skin to get past Fox.
Rocking the body language of a beaten man, the Floridian shuffles off deck to a slow fade.
As the ragtag group start to notice other people wandering the boardwalk, their procession comes to a halt. Taking the chain from the Ultimate Warrior’s handlebar, Florida Man picks up the slack, pulling Marino closer. FML shapes up his hero, who has lost quite a bit of weight in the group’s company – then undoes the lock.
Florida Man:
All good things must come to an end. We’ve had a lot of amazing adventures, Dan, but it’s time for-
Before the gator that walks like a man can give a heartfelt goodbye to his hero, Dan Marino is making a break for it... the 61-year-old running like he never did during his quarterback days. The Epcot Mafia watches their most celebrated member dash down the boardwalk.
Gazoo:
You sure this is wise, Flo?
Florida Man:
Where were we going to keep him, Gaz? Since Nametag Melvin banned us from my Fortress of Solitude, we lost access to the freezer. Just as the Israelites were chased into the desert, so too has Nametag Melvin driven us from the 7-Eleven. Who knows what Promised Land we’ll find? Perhaps a Couche-Tard.
Gazoo:
I don’t even think we can mention that chain on the Network.
Florida Man:
See... a journey fraught will peril! It would all be too tough our resident dolphin. No. If you love someone as much as we love Dan Marino, ya gotta let them go. If he comes back, then Dan Marino will be ours forever... but if he doesn’t? He was never our Dan Marino to begin with... but some imposter.
Gazoo:
What if he goes to the pigs?
Florida Man:
Will you listen to yourself, Gaz? Dan Marino is no snitch. Have a little faith-
The second he sees a beat cop, Dan Marino points back at them.
Florida Man:
Stay cool fellas, no need to be alarmed. Dan probably wants the man to give us a citation for bravery, having rescued him from the Maoists.
Listening to Marino for a second, the police officer turns his attention towards our heroes and immediately draws his gun.
Gazoo:
Goddamn Dan Marino!
Florida Man:
Please Gaz, if that pig is brandishing his weapon like that, it suggests that the Maoists may still be lurking near. Perhaps we can still capture these malevolent idealists?
Warning shot.
Florida Man:
MAKE HASTE!
Ultimate Warrior:
DING!
With that the Epcot Mafia charge into a sea of palm trees just as fast as the Ultimate Warrior can carry them – either to beat up antiquated concepts of Chinese communism or make a cowardly retreat from the law, depending on your perspective. On the boardwalk models flock around Dan Marino, welcoming the famed NFL star back to human civilization. Even as he ducks bullets, Florida Man is happy for the dolphin. One less mouth to feed.
THE FABULOUS REBRANDING
OF
FLORIDA MAN
...FOR THE PURPOSES OF STEALING THE X*CROWN
J-RoK headquarters. The building is actually rather nice. Without Kira around to sexually harass him, Florida Man actually finds the offices rather pleasant. The hallways are filled with his co-workers, who all looking to bribe him to get in good with Suzuki. That is very thoughtful of them. Quake even brought a wheelbarrow full of empties he can get the deposit on – yeah, Florida Man is looking forward to J-RoK chapter 2. The years that don’t suck. Time for all his hard work of coddling the insufferable Sky Force to finally pay off. Yet as the Floridian rolls around on his piles of random payoffs like he was Scrooge McDuck in the Money Bin, Suzuki returns to her office and the beautiful dream comes crashing to a halt. Some people just don’t know how to play ball.
Things go south fast.
Large faceless figures manhandle our hero, hoisting him up in the air like a toddler. For all his posturing, FML is utterly powerless in their hands. A squirming mass of impotent rage. For all his struggling, all Florida Man can do is draw attention to his pathetic state. The hundreds of well wishers are quick to kick our protagonist while he’s down. The gifts they hold are now used to mock, as they have no intention of forking the retirement fund over – instead pointing and laughing. What did Florida Man ever do to them to deserve such disrespectful treatment? And as funny as they find him being carried off – the shrill voices grow louder as he’s thrown to the gutter. Landing on his masked face, and on broken glass, Florida Man wishes he could melt into the filthy ground – escape with the crud into the sewers.
He hasn’t been this embarrassed since at least the night before.
“THEY’RE ALL GONNA LAUGH AT YOU!”
Florida Mom’s hysterical voice rings out, a reminder that she warned her Florida Son that his carefree antics would be stomped out by the decent people of proper society.
“I TOLD YOU SO!”
Florida Man:
...I... know... ma...
One of the coke cases that Florida Man is using as a pillow falls over, startling him out of his J-RoK nightmare.
Florida Man:
Huh? Uh... thank god... it was all just a horribly dream. That's the last time I eat rarebit before going to bed...
Gazoo:
Nah... that happened, Flo.
Sitting up from his soft drink display bed, Florida Man shoots his image consultant a dirty look.
Florida Man:
How do you know, Gaz? You don’t even know what I was dreaming about! So THERE smart guy, it could easily have just been a dream! Or do you have the powers of Freddy Krueger where you can enter into people’s dreams? Is THAT IT, GAZ? You been holding out on me? ‘cause if you do have that incredible dream entering ability, we should go back there and beat the shit out of Nausicaä! Dang, we might be able to make some inception money off your freaky power...
Gazoo (removes his garden sheer glove):
I am not a dream warrior. You just keep having the same one, from THAT TIME when J-RoK made you look especially awful. And it happened.
Florida Man:
Dang. (shaking head) ...They laughed at me, Gaz. ME – Florida Man. The most super serious character on the XHF Network. Like they didn't even appreciate how serious I was. Where’s the respect? It’s like they don’t even care how many Slim Jims I can stuff down my pants. WHICH IS A LOT, BY THE WAY. Where are their priorities? Don't they realize I could be the man who brings the big belt back? I'm fixing to actually stop BEEF's momentum - and they mock ME? What do I have to do to command these assholes esteem?
Gazoo (raises hands in defence):
Preaching to the choir, Flo.
Florida Man:
Well they’ll all be singing my praises when I get J-RoK the dang X*Crown. (looks around) By the way- where the hell are we?
The Epcot Mafia are hanging out in Casselberry’s Wawa. Our motley crew is trying out a new convenience store base of operations like they were hermit crabs.
Gazoo:
Wawa.
Florida Man:
WA- WHY? (oh no!) Wait – my Fortress of Solitude being destroyed by a restraining order – that wasn’t a dream either was it? Dang. It felt like a dream. How could you play us like that Nametag Melvin? I'm starting to understand Foxie's persecution complex, only it's real in my case, because I'm loveable and everyone is still out to get me for no reason - while he remains a dick. So no more 7-Eleven... but of all the chains we could try instead, why Wawa?
Gazoo:
You thought the name was funny.
Florida Man:
Not as funny as trying to sneak Couche-Tard past the Network censors. Speaking of censors... remember that time Sawyer did that big spiel about their mom being “ravished?” What a triggeringly grotesque display of vile melodrama by an inappropriate asshole. That lady who birthed them sure has been degraded in a lot of exploitative ways to make Sawyer look like they have some sort of emotional depth. Emotional depth of a thimble. Heard she died recently. Talk about milking a dead mom. Hope Sawyer is never up for the TAP OUT strap, or someone might “ravish” their mom’s corpse like it was sweeps week. What an irredeemable asshole. Speaking of irredeemable, this dive ain’t no Fortress of Solitude. Where are the magazines? Where are the fireworks? Wawa fails so hard at being a basic sandwich shop that people claim it’s a convenience store – but it ain’t failing up. There is nothing in it, and it’s so spacious I feel like I’m constantly being watched. (chugs a coffee) Like me stealing a cup of coffee might make this joint go bust. Wawa cannot be our new base of operations. Nah, this dive needs to rebrand itself into a roach-infested bodega... but until it does, let’s jet.
Knocking over the soda display as he gets up, Florida Man staggers past a newspaper stand.
Tampa Bay Times Headline:
“FLORIDA MAN SETS WORLD RECORD FOR CONTINUOUS VOMITING!”
Florida Man (reading paper):
Like that is something to brag about. I could do that with my eyes closed!
Gazoo:
You did. Footage from it has actually gone viral – your TikTok account is doing big numbers. Should really boost your profile going into Night of Champions.
Florida Man:
Ah Gaz, that is just the kind of incredibly cool thing that the XHF don’t want in an X*Crown champion.
Gazoo:
So we’re still rebranding?
AaaaaAaaaaAaaaAaaaaAaaaAaaaAaaaAaaa-
A group of teenagers are glued to their phones, watching footage of Florida Man’s Romulan Ale misadventure. Someone has autotuned our hero's agonizing dry heaving to make the trauma funnier. It really does help. If this awesome footage is as wide spread as Gazoo makes it seem, Florida Man is going to have a hard time convincing the XHF he’s trust worthy. Plus a certain Starfleet cadet may require a second box of wine to get aroused after witnessing the tsunami of puke, and Florida Man isn’t made of money. Rebranding it is.
Florida Man:
Don’t see how I have much of a choice.
Gazoo (clasping hands together):
...Then we should get a focus group to run your new looks past.
North Platte, Nebraska.
A rusty Ford Bronco pulls through a McDonalds drive-thru at night.
Behind the wheel is “Tumbleweed” Bill Stokes – a cowboy gimmick on a man the wrong side of eighty. There is no way he should still be driving, but Stokes hasn’t been charged with vehicular manslaughter yet. His tag team partner probably consumes the road kill. Riding shotgun is Dinosaur Bones, and he didn't even call it. In the backseats sit Florida Man and Gazoo – the foursome carpooling for a POPS tour.
This is the focus group.
Florida Man:
...So Trekker sometimes hangs out at your garage... I don’t suppose she ever mentions-
Dinosaur Bones:
SHE IS NOT THAT INTO YOU... BRO.
Bones nods at Stokes, proud of himself for cushioning the lurid ape gossip with the suggestion of kinship. Eventually picking up on the awkward silence, Bones decides to change the subject.
Dinosaur Bones:
IF YOU ARE THAT UNHAPPY AT J-ROK YOU COULD ALWAYS JOIN MY FEDERATION...
Florida Man:
Sweet! About dang ti-
Your Mother Lovin’ Florida Man is about to jump ships from J-RoK to DINOSAUR BONES, when he looks over at his image consultant. Gazoo raises a green eyebrow. This is a test.
Florida Man:
...thank you for your generous offer. I will take it under consideration. ...But as a matter of principle, I have to win the X*Crown for J-RoK to shove it in Kira and Sky Force’s faces.
Did he do good? There is a moment of silence, before the rest of the car nod approvingly.
“Tumbleweed” Bill Stokes:
Good job partner! I figured for sure you’d jump at the chance to “join” that “fed,” and Bonesy would fill up on you before Ronald Mac finished preparing our grub.
Florida Man:
I really wanted to jump ship, Billy. But part of cleaning up my dang image, means trying to reign in my impulse control "issues."
Dinosaur Bones:
A SHAME, MY FEDERATION HAS A WATER SLIDE-
Florida Man (triple take):
You drive a hard barg-
“Tumbleweed” Bill Stokes (consciously saving FM’s life for the gas money):
Changing your image. Whoowhee, that sure sounds mighty fancy. Have you thought about becoming a cowboy? We are all the rage these days.
Florida Man (uses permanent marker to write “become cowboy” on his arm):
I am now!
Gazoo:
We’re still in the initial stage.
Florida Man (mimes blowing his own brains out):
This is taking forever. I haven’t even had time to take off my mask and hook up with Brendan Harding yet, then send pictures to Foxie. ...Unless I am Brendan Harding... and have been all along... (mind blown) anyway we can speed this rebrand up? Not to rush you, Gaz, but I kind of want to make this old business before Night of Champions.
Gazoo:
You could ask people you want to emulate for advice, or mirror wrestlers whose success you appreciate. ...the easiest way to rebrand is to have a lot of money.
Florida Man:
I have that cool million! ...If only Nametag Melvin would let us back into my Fortress of Solitude.
Gazoo (explaining for the rest of the car):
He has a winning scratch-off, but can’t go in the store.
“Tumbleweed” Bill Stokes:
Well shoot, why not just send someone the clerk don’t know to collect the ticket for you? We’ll do it for you, buckaroo!
Florida Man:
No dice, Billy. You’re like a hundred and still working the indies. If Ric Flair taught me nothing, its that you old timers really love the sport... but mostly keep it up because y'all are desperately in need money...
“Tumbleweed” Bill Stokes (dejected):
...I like the ponies...
Florida Man:
And Bones here would just blow it on McNuggets.
Dinosaur Bones:
THERE IS AN OBJECT YOU CAN TRADE FOR MCNUGGETS?
McDonalds Clerk:
Here is your order.
Seven sacks of food are loaded in through the driver’s window. Stokes barely has time to shift out of the way as Bones starts to gorge himself on the bags. The feeding frenzy is such that a lone McNugget is sent flying through the air- landing on Florida Man’s knee.
Florida Man:
OUCH! THE PAIN! OH, THAT MCNUGGET WAS SO HOT THAT I FEEL I’VE BEEN LEFT WITH A PERMANENT SCAR... I probably got eight hundred thousand dollars worth of emotional damages over this incident! Who knew that fast food was initially warm? They should have a label or something! SYMBOLS THAT EVEN I CAN READ!
Gazoo shakes his head. They were making such good progress towards being slightly less Floridian. This get rich quick scheme is a clear setback from becoming Georgia Man.
Gazoo:
Good try Flo, might even work, but you’ll need to get rebranding money sooner than a lawsuit will provide.
Florida Man:
Dang.
Having finished everyone's meal, Dinosaur Bones looks up.
Dinosaur Bones (returning the conversation to Night of Champions):
THE DOUBLE QUARTER POUNDER REMINDS ME... THAT BEEF IS QUITE THE DISH. AND WHILE THAT STEVE APE LOOKS OUT OF SEASON, A LITTLE PAPRIKA WILL MASK HIS OFFENSIVE QUALITIES.
Florida Man (rubbing leg in actual pain):
Thanks Bon-
Dinosaur Bones (not really paying attention):
LET US CIRCLE THIS DRIVE-THRU AGAIN, SO THEY CAN PRODUCE MORE MCNUGGETS!
Gazoo:
That isn't how it wor-
"Tumbleweed" Bill Stokes:
You got it, Bonesy!
The vehicle begins to circle back to the drive-thru entrance, as the vicious cycle continues. Florida Man makes a mental note that Dinosaur Bones is in desperate need of rebranding. Must be a reptile thing.
The Triple X Club.
Located on a super yacht, the club caters to three-time X*Crown champions – a very exclusive group that currently only has two members.
Those truly elite XHF stars, Dylan Black and Zoran Sainovic – sit on opposite ends of a twenty-foot table in the dining room. At this stage of their six-course meal, the two men are enjoying roasted hydra, when their dinner is interrupted by Florida Man. The Panhandle Prince stumbles in through the help’s entrance, too busy admiring all the super models and mythological animals to watch where he’s walking. The mask also cuts down on visibility, but the permanent smile keeps him positive.
Florida Man:
Howdy fellas! Guess whose coming to dinner?
The two XHF greats look extremely uncomfortable at their uninvited guest.
Zoran Sainovic:
What is zis-
Florida Man:
Don’t get up – this won’t take a minute.
Looking around the room for a seat, FML finally spots one on a far wall. Grabbing an oak throne from the corner of the large room, Florida Man pulls it up to the table. In making himself comfortable, the Floridian leaves a forty-foot gash across the marble floor.
Dylan Black:
How did you get past security? (to Zoran) I thought wrestlers who had won less than three X*Crowns would burst into flames when stepping foot on our hallowed grounds?
Zoran Sainovic (picking up a solid gold telephone):
Zat was ze general idea- I’m getting to ze bottom of zis.
Florida Man (not wanting to be rude):
I’m sorry guys; I didn’t mean to interrupt y’all's black mass.
Zoran Sainovic (holding up hand):
Not at all, it is good zat you were able to bring zis security lapse to our attention. Zank you. I’m just making sure ze next time you try to visit us, you definitely spontaneously combust.
Florida Man (whistling in appreciation):
Technology can do that these days? What an age we live in.
Zoran Sainovic:
Yes. (turning as he gets through to security) Hello, I am currently speaking to one of my lessers, which I was assured would be impossible under our current security plan.
Florida Man (leaving Zoran to his phone call, turns to Dylan):
I was actually just hoping to pick your brain, Mister Black.
Dylan Black (rolling eyes):
Of course you were.
Florida Man:
Well, you see – you’re the only person who won an X*Crown for J-RoK. I am fixing to be the second person to achieve that... given how difficult our management makes Global events; I was just wondering if you had any advice you could share?
Dylan Black:
To become a J-RoK X*Crown champion?
Florida Man:
Yes. Anything at all.
Dylan Black:
You should burn down the Tokyo Dome.
Would that do it? Or is this another impulse control test? Florida Man rubs his hands together thinking about the warmth of the inferno.
Florida Man (having considered the terrorist act):
...Is this a flashback?
Dylan Black (taking a stiff drink):
God I hope so.
Zoran Sainovic (covering the receiver of his phone):
Why is zat?
Dylan Black:
Because then this conversation would be over.
Zoran Sainovic (nodding in agreement with Dylan while returning to his phone conversation):
Oh I see.
Florida Man (nodding too like he sees):
Well if that is the only way to get ahead in the world as a J-RoK employee...
Zoran Sainovic (hanging up):
Apparently zere was a mild system error when zey were implementing ze new Steve protocol.
Florida Man:
The new Steve-
Dylan Black:
Yes, our three time X*Crown champion club just added a rule, “No Steves Allowed” – so if some wrestler named Steve were to somehow claim the championship three times, he couldn’t hang out with us.
Florida Man:
Well you don’t worry about that fellas, you can count on me to make sure that Steve Awesome doesn’t get a chance to party crash your cool pad.
...The Super Frenemies burst into laughter. Florida Man is going to win at NOC instead of Steve Awesome? Have you ever heard anything more preposterous? Tears stream down the celebrated performer's cheeks, before they come to an uncomfortable realization.
Zoran Sainovic:
ha... ha... heh... Wait, you’re being serious?
Florida Man:
Damn right! I have just as good a chance of winning the crown as Steve does-
The gator-faced luchador can’t even finish his statement before The Super Frenemies are once again in stitches.
Dylan Black (holding his ribs):
Stop, stop!
Zoran Sainovic (wiping away tears):
Don’t take it personally Florida, but ze writing is on ze wall.
Dylan Black:
Did you see that panda that Mongo fed him? No one has had that easy a road to Night of Champions since Rat Bastard and Jack Diamond failed to win a match.
Florida Man (clearly hurt at their lack of confidence):
Well, I’m still going to try my best. ...Is there anything I can work on to improve my chances? I just want to become a better Florida Man.
The Final Boss checks his watch. They sure are taking their time recalibrating the jobber incinerating wave device. Might as well make the most of it. The great men share knowing looks, as long as they are stuck with this nuisance, they might as well have some fun.
Dylan Black:
Everything you’ve done to get to this stage? Stop doing it. It’s already been seen. The fans want to be surprised, they HATE consistency.
Pulling out his sharpie, Florida Man writes this sage like wisdom on his arm – “inconsistency.”
Zoran Sainovic (chuckling, and nodding at Black):
Yes, you no doubt have certain moves zat you have become familiar with... but a big title fight is ze best time to learn new moves. Don’t even practice zem beforehand, if you’ve never hit a shooting star press before... ze best time to figure out how, is on pay per view. Why practice when you can get it right ze first time?
Nodding thankfully, Florida Man keeps writing “new moves.”
Dylan Black:
If you do hit a finisher, take your time before making the pin. It’s more about looking like a champion than being the better wrestler.
This is all gold. The sharpie continues, “don’t make pins.”
Zoran Sainovic:
And your support system? Ze family, friends, coaches, trainers, and positive influences you have patching you back up?
Dylan Black:
...Drop them.
Florida Man (stops writing, and looks up confused):
Get rid of my friends?
Zoran Sainovic:
Dead weight. If you want to be a REAL champion, zere is no place for sentiment.
Dylan Black:
The best athletes exist in a state of constant danger. When the world is nipping at your heels, you have no one, and the only person you can stop to break bread with is your worst enemy - you know you've finally made it. Because he’s the only one you can actually trust.
Florida Man (conflicted):
...Maybe I can be a one time X*Crown champion and still keep my-
Zoran Sainovic:
Forget it. You’re going to cut zem loose eventually. Ze sooner you do it, ze easier it will be for everyone.
Florida Man:
...dang.
Head lowered in pain, Florida Man slowly rises from the table. He has a lot of work to do if this rebrand is going to be a success.
Florida Man:
...thanks... I think I have all I need.
With that the Sunshine State Stud staggers off, his mind elsewhere. For their part the Super Frenemies may have started their game with the aim of giving the worst advice possible, but the last jab resonated with them. The two men share faint smiles, before raising their glasses in a sad toast.
There’s was always going to be a club of two.
Leaving the success stories to their lonely existence, Florida Man drags his feet as he slowly exits the floating paradise. So many temptations. And this is for people who have won the X*Crown three times, FML hasn't done it once. Maybe he can get a hammock? That'd be neat. Keep it in perspective before you do anything drastic, Florida Man!
Deeply conflicted, Florida Man steps out into the cold night air. It starts to rain.
The water might be a refreshing sensation after this latest gut punch, but he barely feels the damp sensation through his heavy mask. Yet as numb as he is, the Florida Man is going to need even thicker skin to get past Fox.
Rocking the body language of a beaten man, the Floridian shuffles off deck to a slow fade.