The Scales I'm In [FML NoC PSYCHE Part 4]
Jul 28, 2023 1:39:27 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 1 more like this
Post by flo on Jul 28, 2023 1:39:27 GMT -5
Green.
Densely packed trees, surrounded by thick bushes, and lush vegetation as far as the eye can see. The screen bursts with enough nature that viewers might think they were looking at the everglades – the passionate heart of Florida Men everywhere. But who can know a Florida Man’s heart?
As the image pushes further into the recesses of this jungle, the aesthetics betray the ecosystem on display. Far more white pines begin appearing, which are joined by enough grass to second guess the initial wetland hunch – and by the time the shaky image comes across pavement, viewers will remember why they flunked out of scouts. Taking on a first person perspective, the camera is strolling through a park. Bobbing along as our unseen host tries to focus on the path, and not get distracted by the woods. The camera nods politely at passers-by, most of whom seem to find its friendly nature off-putting. Or maybe there is something else about the protagonist that is causing them alarm? More than one jogger didn’t start their brisk pace until after crossing the camera's path. For these rude reactions, the gasps don’t seem to take the spring out of the camera’s step, as it approaches the end of the green space to reveal that we’ve been strolling through Central Park.
Stepping out of the relatively tranquil forest of Central Park, and into the gridlocked hell known as Manhattan – the camera looks over to The Shops at Columbus Circle. If that is the desired destination, it would be easy to jaywalk over, given the bumper-to-bumper traffic, but instead the POV perspective chooses to stroll down the sidewalk. Walking up to the light, a hand reaches out – pushing the pedestrian call button. Some people might push the button repeatedly, trying to entertain themselves while the light waited to turn green, like multiple presses would somehow speed up the process – but our host shows great patience. He is in no hurry.
Green.
Moseying across the street, the camera nods at children – who look frightened and cling to their parent’s legs. The perspective pays them no mind, making its way into the upscale plaza. The air conditioning hits immediately. A pan takes in the posh trappings, before spotting its desired destination. The blue door of Per Se. Thomas Keller’s French Restaurant overlooking the park. Fine dining with a view of the grounding greens...
No sooner has the camera pushed through the Blue Door, then its path is barred by the maître d.
Maître d':
May I help you?
“Sherman, party of one. Reservation at 6.”
Maître d':
Sir, we have a strict dress code...
“I was concerned Brioni might no longer be in fashion. Is my suit not appropriate for your establishment?”
Maître d':
It’s not that it’s...
A waiter leans in, whispering to the maître d.
Waiter:
...burn victim...
Oh. Realizing his social faux pas, and not wanting to get cancelled for discriminating against the less fortunate, the maître d’s eyes widen slightly in terror. The Per Se employee is too well trained to break into a cold sweat, but his gaze darts about scanning the area to see if any cellphones recorded this horrific lapse in judgement.
“It’s ...what?”
Maître d':
Nothing sir... your table is ready now, my apologies for the delay.
With that the camera is led through Per Se – whose elegant decorum makes it easy to see why the restaurant has three Michelin stars. Wandering past mouth-watering creations, the camera tries not to stray towards any one meal – as staring would not be polite. Arriving at a corner table, with a magnificent view of the park – the camera suddenly stops shaking. There is a clear beat – when a man wearing a blue suit STEPS OUT of the perspective. This implies that we had been seeing the world through this man’s eyes, but now our host has separated from the videographer – who takes a more rigid, clean and professional frame. Those that were experiencing motion sickness can put down the GRAVOL.
Maître d':
Your waiter this evening will be Remy, bon appétit.
Despite being centered in a medium shot, the guest is obscured by a menu he’s observing.
Remy:
Can I start monsieur with something to drink?
“The chef's tasting menu, with a bottle of Le Clos Saint-Hilaire 1998.”
Remy:
Very good, sir.
With that the diner hands his menu to the waiting staff, revealing his face.
Rather than his Wally Gator by way of Gorn look, Florida Man is now sporting the mask of a human.
Shiny plastic hair, skin, and clearly fake eyes, are actually more disturbing than his reptilian visage. Something about the desire to pass as normal, and failing so magnificently, is deeply upsetting. Whether this change of appearance will let Florida Man pass for a human remains to be seen.
SHERMAN:
Good evening XHF. You may be familiar with my previous work, under the broad dehumanizing umbrella of Florida Man. I am now going by my Christian name of Sherman. Some of my previous actions may have given you cause for alarm, but it is my sincere wish that we move past those unfortunate incidents, and into a new understanding.
Remy returns with the Saint-Hilaire – opening it in front of the abomination. Sherman is handed the cork for inspection, before nodding – and the first glass is poured.
SHERMAN:
Please humour that request. It’s vitally important to check any preconceptions that you may have of me, because any disgruntled fan baggage is just going to make you HATE what is going to come next. And you are going to be seeing a lot of me, because I AM going to be the next X*Crown champion.
Florida Man might guzzle this twelve hundred dollar a bottle booze, but Sherman has gone to finishing school. He smells it first.
SHERMAN:
Now I may just be trying to win the championship to spite J-RoK, but on paper I really am the only logical choice.
BEEF had a fantastic run in the Rumble. To listen to him, you'd think he was a rookie who came out of nowhere. Very modest, but false. BEEF had already had XHF runs in the past, but that Rumble performance reminded everyone just how dominating he can be. ...Only most people associate BEEF with GUNS, and its X*Crown monopoly has already put the AWF to shame. Oh, but he is representing DTF in this competition? How quaint. A federation that has a month’s shelf life going straight to the top of the Network. That would go over well with the rest of the affiliates. Then there’s the fact that it is a training facility. The fed that trains rookies immediate has the top star on the Network. Forget the fact that trainee has years of Network experience under his belt, and is basically a ringer. It’s a nice narrative, and would certainly amuse Jack Diamond to no end. I think the Network would find, however, that the short-term amusement would lead to some very long-term problems.
Jack Diamond is also the reason that Sam Sawyer isn’t a viable contender. Tap Out wrestling has spent over a year building up their heavyweight title as the best of the best. Selecting competitors to put on broadways, that take twice as long as the X*Crown multi-mans. That is a conscious micro-aggression. Every federation should see their own title as THE BEST... good for them... but the technical clinic TOW worker style? Would they ever put their heavyweight title under the X*Crown on their own shows? Nah. Alternate shows at best. And given their limited roster, which strap would get the stronger opponents? I’m not saying that TOW isn’t destined to get the crown, and go to the very top – but this early in their own heavyweight championship’s history? The X*Crown would be a curse. Cross Recoba wants that top tier recognition, but another prize to play with? If Recoba was serious, he would have sent a stronger star than Sawyer.
Similar situation for Hardkore World. They are still testing the Network waters, and you can tell they are a little weary of the Global scene. When it came to finding a representative for Overheated, they went with Steve Awesome. Steve is an old XHF hand who has been around the block – can't learn any new tricks - but it makes sense from an HKW perspective. Jonnie Valentine knows that XHF is more familiar with Steve’s work than the rest of their federation, so if he loses they aren’t really embarrassed. Steve hasn’t really been at HKW long enough to be considered one of their own, so there is no downside for them. The only problem is if he actually wins. They have a large pool of talent to draw from for house shows, but like Tap Out – the arena shows rely on a set group of players, and they already have quite a few titles. It would be a similar situation to when Fireside held the crown. Remember that? Not fondly. Every show, the cards, top to bottom, were title fights. So many title fights, the belts lost their lustre, and the roster started to get worn down. The workers were so tired, and the belts meant so little, that we had a RECORD NUMBER of X*Crown winners in that short time. I’m not saying Valentine would create less than ideal wrestling situations to pass the crown around the way that Caffrey did, I’m just pointing out that the X*Crown isn’t good for Hardkore World. It is only good for Steve. He’s selfish enough to win it, but it would hurt a lot of people to fluff his ego.
Perhaps the champion will retain? Then GUNS could maintain control of the crown until at least End of Days. ...Oh, they’re on vacation until November, right? That shouldn’t effect Foxie... Fox; his championship run thus far has felt like a vacation. GUNS pretty much lets talent make their own schedule in terms of dates, but even when he could call the shots, no one will accuse Fox of being a fighting champion. He only had two defences, one against my former alter ego, and I have the feeling if Florida Man hadn’t shown up – Fox would have just decked a child and called it a day. Second one against Death Trap at least wasn’t spur of the moment, and felt competitive. Only Trap was coming off a Sainovic bloodbath – and even then, if you look at the damage he took, I can tell you which competitor did the heavy lifting. Hey, Fox does the bare minimum and looks like gold – good for him. Hit hard, hit fast. Nice economizing. With attention spans shortening, I can certainly see why his two-minute promos get more hits than more methodical approaches... and in the ring, who cares about opponent's safety? He talks the talk, walks the walk – only problem is, he’s more concerned with being champion than behaving like a champion. There are so many potential dream matches in Fox title pairings that the fans would kill for, and if the Network really plays there cards right – they might get ONE in the next three months.
Remy returns with the oysters and pearls dish to start. Nodding in appreciation, Sherman places a serviette on his lap, before selecting the proper fork.
Sherman:
Excuse me.
The former gator takes a bite, stopping to chew, and refusing to speak with his mouth full. It is only after swallowing, that Sherman continues.
Sherman:
The nature of wrestling means that any of the four might get lucky, but for the sake of TOW, HKW, DTF, and GUNS - I am going to defeat them. In terms of my own place on the Network - I am very active and open. Though unbecoming, I have petitioned J-RoK on numerous occasions to book me more often, and have made appearances on other Network affiliates including WUK, HKW, CAR, BONES and GUNS. Why I have wrestled in more matches for GUNS since Fox won them the crown, than Fox himself has. Truly damning. My limited J-RoK appearances in the King of Hokkaido tournament saw me incur a number of losses, so there will be no shortage of potential challengers with viable arguments for title shots – when I pull off the victory.
Remy returns to remove the oyster dish, replacing it with a salad of winter radish. Sherman again waits to finish chewing.
Sherman:
Though perfectly reasonable, concerns that I will immediately drop J-RoK for GUNS should be put to rest. As a WUK tag team champion, the Two Kingdom connection would make for a very uncomfortable working environment if I were to throw Nausicaä Suzuki’s administration under the bus. Besides, worried parties should look no further than Dylan Black. For all the awful treatment that Black has suffered from over the years at the hands of Kira’s business acumen, Dylan still hasn’t quit. Like Black – apparently I’m a glutton for punishment. Another thing we will have in common, is that I’ll be the only other J-RoK X*Crown champion.
The salad gets replaced by Fois Gras, which the menu dubs Terrine of Hudson Valley Moulard Duck. Sherman is about to take a bite when...
Maître d':
Remy!
Remy:
Yes, Renault?
Maître d':
Who put this Slim Jim display in the middle of the restaurant?
Remy:
Sacré bleu! I did not notice it. There were only the elevator repair men- Mon Dieu! We have no elevator! They must have been The Maoists, trying to take down our bourgeois haute cuisine!
Maître d':
And they will have succeeded! There is a Zagat critic due any minute. If he sees all this American jerky – Per Se will be ruined! We must sneak it out without the customers noticing!
Remy:
Dieu merci! We are saved! ...But how can we sneak so many Slim Jims out?
Maître d':
We will put them down our trousers, like the great escape!
Remy:
But Renault, I doubt I can fit that many Slim Jims down my pants.
Maître d':
Damn our French waistlines. If only there was someone who could take this entire Slim Jim load down their trousers in one sitting!
Remy:
Could such a man exist?
That certainly sounds like a problem for Florida Man. Sherman takes in this scene, which is playing out in the middle of the restaurant floor, while finishing his fois gras. Rather than rise to challenge, the man with the face of a man instead turns back to the camera.
Sherman:
A lot of my opponents have had less than charitable things to say about me. Like J-RoK management, the Night of Champion main eventers generally looked down on my previous personas' approach to wrestling. Yet of all the challengers that made it through Overheated – did anyone have a tougher opponent? I may have teased Esmur before the match, but in the ring he brought his work boots. That was an intense fight – and if I’m being honest with myself, I know it could have gone either way. Only... if anyone else had been paired with Esmur, there is no coin flip – he would have destroyed you. So when you’re looking down on me...
Looking across the room, Sherman notices a Mini-Estrella standing a good twenty feet from the bar. From the costume, Sherman would guess that this diminutive wrestler is the mini version of El Combatiante. El Combatiantito. To get past the dress code, the spandex must be made by Brooks Brothers. Having been left out of the battle for El Combatiante’s mask – it is clear that El Combatiantito wants a drink.
El CombatiantITO:
“Qué restaurante tan encantador, debo recordarlo para mi aniversario. Creo que Tina realmente disfrutaría la decoración.”
Florida Man’s Grasp of Spanish translates that too:
“Dang, I sure am sad the big version of me died in that Tokyo Dome fire. When I become big will I too die in a Tokyo Dome fire? Thinking about burning to death as a giant makes me want a drink. But the bar is so far away, and my legs are so short, it will take forever to get there. If only some Good Samaritan could toss this dwarf across the canyon which taunts my thirst. Even though that sport is now frowned upon, and not wildly practiced outside of the shithole known as Australia, perhaps the Lance Armstrong of Professional Dwarf Tossing is somehow nearby, hearing my prayers and can help me on my way.”
Sherman hears El Combatiantito’s cry for help, but finishing school taught him that polite society only looks out for number one. Not going to be tempted. It should be noted that Sherman is compulsively twisting his serviette as a coping mechanism.
Sherman:
Sawyer. I am pretty sure police officers notifying next of kin would give the NAME of the victim. Instead they clarify that it’s your birthmother... and not your mother? Was it their first time delivering the news? “Your Mom – we are referring to Mercedes not Martha by the way.” Nothing about that seemed real. I’m not saying you faked your biological mothers death for sympathy, but those cops were definitely actors. And no self-respecting SAG member is working right now, so they were bad actors. They might be scamming you. Try not to accidentally join a cult, Sam. Also they just addressed you as Sam – didn’t clarify that you were Sam Sawyer. That is fishy. And why do they keep having to track you down? Does your incredibly needy support system keep filing missing persons reports?
Speaking of those inept back-up dancers, Sam, I was really touched when they swore at a previously unseen executive, then proceeded to win him over with the power of friendship. Got some strong Step Up 3 vibes going on. It’s actually realistic, however, because Lopez’d rather risk his own job asking for you to get an extension, then watch your sidekicks wrestle. We aren't even talking about the eight hours they were threatening to perform, he didn’t want to see those clowns do shit for a single minute. That’s how scared or bored he was. Brian Lopez might be as much an executive as those fake cops were cops, but I really identify with how tiresome he finds your crew. (slow clap) “Well done, Joey.”
Incidentally, Lopez does for previously wrestling executives what Marissa Clark does for sports journalism. Did you see her op-ed in Voices of Wrestling? You should check it out, Sam... certainly reads like a paid advertisement. It pretends to grant concessions to your opponents, like it was somehow unbiased – while using language that is clearly geared towards selling you hard as the underdog to beat. The only problem is, even though Marissa is killing herself to make you seem somewhat respectable... even SHE doesn’t seem to believe it. OH WELL, at least when you lose badly – Tap Out won’t blame you for wasting an opportunity that a dozen other stars would have excelled with. Because you’ve already got your excuses lined up. Sawyer just didn’t have time to train... she was in mourning.
Apparently Remy is busy, and Gaston will now be Sherman’s waiter. Removing the fois gras, Gaston puts down what the menu affectionately calls the Pavé of Mediterranean Lubina.
Sherman:
As a side note, Sawyer, you keep bragging about almost winning the X*Crown in your rookie year. From my memories of the Fireside X*Crown scene, weren’t you the only member of the roster NOT to win the strap? Weird flex. Which is to say, I’m very sorry for your loss. Also if you’re not being gaslighted about your dead mom, you’re definitely in on it.
Did you notice how Fox wants to be the big bad guy, but makes concessions for dead relatives? Pick a lane. Before Sherman can dig into the next dish, a certain A-Team leader approaches him.
Col. Hannibal:
FLO! Murdock won big on Wheel of Fortune.... including a trip to Hawaii! So we’re planning to break him out of the asylum so he’ll invite us as his guests. Aloha! Face has already thought of some very clever innuendos involving the word lay! Obviously this plan couldn’t come together without our fifth member, Florida Man – so are you in?
Sherman closes his eyes for a second to block out the hallucination.
Sherman:
BEEF – I watch your interviews and I think to myself: GOD DAMN, what a GREAT X*CROWN champion El Rey, Magnus, or Eminem would make.
Col. Hannibal:
Not to put too fine a timeline on your decision pal, but there is a very good chance another team is trying to trick Murdock into stealing a Russian helicopter pretending it’s part of a CIA mission to Baraq. If he bonds with those imposters, Murdock may take them to Hawaii instead, and B.A. Baracus will not pity us.
This is no different than his summer vacation to Derry, where he had to block out Pennywise. Just count to ten. When Sherman finally opens his eyes, the hallucination has disappeared and Gaston has swapped the Lubina for Maine Diver Sea Scallop.
Sherman:
Steve Awesome...
Maître d' (voice):
Remy! What happened to your pants?
Remy (voice):
I tried to put a Slim Jim down them, and it fell out, Renault. So I kept trying! When I finally succeeded in getting one down, I got arrogant- so I put a second one in, and you see what happened!
Maître d' (voice):
Zoot alor! Zagat will think we have the moral fibre of Pepé Le Pew with your trousers down around your ankles! If only there was someone here who could MacGyver a makeshift belt out of silly string, eight AAA batteries, a vinyl copy of Slayers’ Show No Mercy, Martin Van Pleet’s dentures, mortar from the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and a belt...
Remy (voice):
To fashion our salvation by making a practical object out of such random possessions would take a truly beautiful mind. But does such a genius inventor exist?
Nice try. Not going to fall for it. At this point the serviette that Sherman is twisting in his fist is wound so tight that it has actually drawn blood. The pain keeps Sherman focused on what’s important. Not being drawn back to the Florida side.
Sherman:
Steve Aweso-
A bearded lady pushes her way through the blue door.
Miss Garibaldi:
The MAN says this place don’t gots no drive-thru – and even if it did, they would only serve me if I was in a car. Stepping on a ladies civil liberties! Dang! All I wants to know is – WHICH ONE OF Y’ALL IS GONNA RIDE ON MY BACK LIKE I WAS A CAR SO WE CAN ORDER US SOME FRENCH FRIES?
As a dozen waiters muscle the freedom fighter out the door, Sherman almost rises from his seat to help the valiant woman. Almost. His belly rumbles. It wants fries. Don’t make me drown you, belly.
Sherman:
Fox. I like how every person involved in the Throne of Gold has a story to tell. Sawyer is possibly being brainwashed by a cult, or mourning the death of an absentee gene pool. BEEF is training, and showing everyone that he owes everything to El Rey and not the training facility he actually represents. Steve Awesome is searching for an old man, with random trash talk that doesn’t really gel as part of the cohesive narrative, but bless his heart if he doesn’t try. And then there’s you... feeling put out at having to defend your belt. That is the story right? If you had anything going on beyond being pissed off, I certainly missed it. Wouldn’t be the first time. Now maybe your story isn’t as grand in scope or depth as everyone else’s, but at least the resentment at having to defend the crown is real. Incredibly realistic. How dare we...
Oh no, another hallucination. Close your eyes. Count to ten. Open them. Here goes nothing...
Tinto (holding up piece of paper):
Mister Man – I was cleaning Marty’s attic when I found a map to One Eyed Willie’s treasure.
Nope. Sherman forces his eyes shut. Count to twenty this time. It’s all in your head. Not completely out of your system yet, but you’re almost completely detoxed. Soon you’ll be an average person from nowhere in particular. Breathing deeply, Sherman slowly opens his eyes...
John Matuszak:
SLOTH LOVES TINTO!
Tinto:
Truffle shuffle!
After doing a little dance, Tinto holds up his map with a smile. Ignoring these goonies, Sherman raises his hand.
Sherman:
CHECK, PLEASE!
This human being thing is difficult.
A little shaken from his first test run in a respectable eatery, Sherman walks with a slight hunch as he steps out into The Shops at Columbus Circle. This will pass. Loosening his tie, the former Floridian sits down on a bench. Finding some tourists trying to take pictures behind him, Sherman shifts his body to avoid being asked for assistance. A middle-aged woman helps the two men instead.
Woman:
Standing there? Got it. First time in New York?
Shorter Man:
Thank you, yes. We’re just up from Florida celebrating our fifth anniversary.
Woman:
That's lovely - wait - Florida? You poor dears.
Taller Man:
It’s a little tense there right now, but-
Woman (taking picture):
Well the important thing is you’re here, safe now, and never have to go back to that cesspool.
Shorter Man:
Jacksonville is our home miss. We’re only here for vacation.
Woman:
I know New York is expensive, but there are so many other places you could relocate too...
Taller Man:
...It has many nice qualities. Our jobs are located there, along with our family and friends all living there. We have roots. It has more than its share of intolerant people at the moment, unfortunately, but it’s where we call home.
Woman:
That sounds crazy. I can’t imagine a self-respecting homosexual living in Florida-
Taller Man:
There are all kinds of people living in Florida. The Governor doesn’t have a hundred percent approval rating. Yeah, it’s scary – but there is good there too. You clearly have your own opinions on our state, which we don’t need to share. Thank you for the picture, good day.
The Karen decides to escalate the debate. Normally Florida Man would run to his constituent’s aid, regardless of sexual orientation... but this is Sherman. He is just a man. Finding the hatred to be nauseating, Sherman gets off the bench and starts making for the door.
Sherman:
...
Then he stops. Losing who he is – Gazoo called it.
Sherman:
...A lot of people told me that I was no good – that I was trash. Somewhere along the way I started to believe them. I remember... where it all started to go wrong. The Flag Match. Fireside can’t pay their electrical bill, lights flicker, and suddenly I’m cheating Fox out of his title.
Because Global titles have multiple federations involved, in order to keep the peace, they almost ALWAYS have clean finishes. Matches go until the better person gets the pin or the submission. Little room for debate. Few controversial run-ins. Don't need to start a war. Junior, X*Crown, tag – they are all pretty good about making the new champion look like they actually earned it. I beat you Fox. I earned the Junior title. I ended your incredibly successful run. You wanted out of the division anyway to pursue the X*Crown – congratulations on finally pulling that off, by the way. So I gave you what you wanted, an out to new pastures. You were free to move on to bigger things.
Only it wasn’t enough that you were free... or that you had defended multiple times in matches against me, before I finally beat you. Or that you had avoided being pinned or submitted, but lost on a lousy flag match. The best POSSIBLE out for looking strong in defeat. Instead of going, “after all these epic battles, I was so warn down, this guy was able to climb a pole faster than me” – YOU COULDN’T LIVE WITH THAT, so instead the narrative immediately became "while the lights were out, someone hit me to give that buffoon the steal." I’m no longer a champion; I’m a patsy of one of your enemies. That wasn't cool. So get on your soapbox about personal responsibility, but you sure as hell didn’t own that loss. And pulling me down to explain the finish didn’t even help you. You didn’t need to be protected. Even without a belt, you were on top! ...BUT IT DID BURY ME. All the subsequent bullshit from Vodka’s joke event to Kira’s inability to book me if HIS LIFE depended on it – being treated by the Network like an enhancement gag? That all started with your petulant lies. And they were lies.
...Because the truth is, I was the better man that night, and I’m about to be the better man again.
Reaching up, Sherman claws at his face.
Sherman:
NO. What am I doing? There is nothing wrong with me. I don’t need to change.
Tearing at the human face mask, it is revealed that the crocodile mask is beneath it. With green sticking out under the flesh tone, Sherman looks like one of the Visitors from V.
Sherman:
...Maybe you’re the one that needs to take a LONG LOOK in the mirror.
As Sherman continues to peel off skin, some viewers may find it upsetting, so the camera pans back to the married tourists being harassed by an irate Karen.
Woman:
YOU ARE NO ALLIES! GO BACK TO FLORIDA; YOU PEOPLE DESERVE IT!
“Excuse me miss?”
The Karen turns just in time for Florida Man to throw a custard pie in her face.
Woman:
You son of a-
The second one is a raspberry pie.
Florida Man:
You seem a little stressed, might I suggest eating pie?
The large crowd of angry New Yorkers that were enjoying watching this woman’s wildly hypocritical hate mongering look like they're going to turn on your favourite neighbourhood robbing gator for committing assault. Only one thing for it charges like that-
Florida Man:
FOOD FIGHT!
Florida Man can't solve the world's problems, but he does have bandaid distractions - in pecan flavour mostly. Before you know it, every person in The Shops on Columbus Circle are throwing pies at one another. Where did all these pastries come from? Perhaps the cynical New Yorkers were always carrying them, and FML just brought out their inner Floridians.
Taller Man:
Thank you, Florida Man.
Shorter Man:
We love you, Florida Man.
Florida Man hugs the traumatized couple.
Florida Man:
It’s going to get better.
Sadly our protagonist’s life is dictated by the ironic karma of situational comedies, and no sooner does he promise a better tomorrow than a dozen men in suits descend on the messy hijinks. A familiar face emerges from behind two of the federal agents.
Dan Marino (pointing):
That’s him, that’s the guy!
Oh right – the kidnapping charges.
Florida Man:
Dang.
As the FBI descend on him, Florida Man makes a break for it. Ducking flying pies, Florida Man charges for the exit with all the grace of his hero, Dan Marino. It’s not much of a manhunt, because FML is full of fois gras and it is disgusting. How do humans do it? The feds continue to close in on him. They are gaining. Closer. This is it!
Two agents dive at him.
You wouldn’t know it from his cartoon gator mask, but Florida Man has closed his eyes because he can’t look at the upcoming sack. This is going to be painful.
It should be painful.
Where is the pain?
DING.
The agents hit the floor hard, as The Ultimate Warrior lifts Florida Man up on his back. Guns are drawn, shots are fired, but the FBI is no match for a WWF champion turned little girl’s bike.
Florida Man:
Warrior!
Ultimate Warrior:
Ding!
“And he's not alone.”
A green face peaks up from one of the massive biceps that lead to apparent handlebars. Gazoo is also riding on Warrior’s back. And Sky Force Delta flies behind the bike, the pigeons using their glock to return fire. That is a horrible idea. They probably shouldn’t do that.
Florida Man:
What are you all doing here, Gaz? Am I dead? Is this heaven?
Gazoo (ducking bullets):
We're still on terra firms, Flo. It seemed like you could use a hand.
Florida Man:
But after the way I treated you...
Ultimate Warrior:
DING.
Gazoo:
Warrior is right. You had a momentary lapse of judgement, but that’s just you being you. You wouldn’t be Florida Man if you didn’t occasional do things that threatened the lives of your friends and family. It isn't like we haven't tried the same in the past, and aren't planning to get revenge very soon. Nothing but Floridians here.
Florida Man:
Aw shucks, you guys are the best friends a fella could ask for!
A certain 7-Eleven clerk pops up from behind The Ultimate Warrior’s back as well. There sure are a lot of people riding on this bike. He is really ripped.
Nametag Melvin:
Why don’t we hang out at the Fortress of Solitude until the heat dies down... or Night of Champions, whichever comes first.
Florida Man:
Is it my birthday?
Dan Marino (jumping on board Warrior’s back):
Sorry for narcing fellas. It was unbecoming of a dolphin. These feds are real squares; can I hang out with you guys?
Florida Man (big shitting eating grin is the same one he always has because it is a mask):
Like the Epcot Mafia could stay mad at you, Dan Marino. (wrapping his arms around his friends) Fox was right – taking personal responsibility for your actions is for assholes.
No, that isn’t right. There is a lesson to be learned here.
Florida Man:
...I still feel bad about it-
Gazoo:
Don’t worry Flo, you might have been tempted to destroy your personal relationships for a shot at the gold – just like BEEF, Sawyer and low stakes Awesome did. But you didn’t cause any irreversible harm that you will never be able to come back from, and just makes you a miserable broken person... LIKE FOX DID.
Florida Man:
Well that’s an incredible relief. ...Sucks to be Foxie.
Col. Hannibal (lighting a cigar):
Hawaii it is! FACE says we're all gonna get laid!
YAY! Breaking through a window, The Ultimate Warrior turns towards Central Park. Only before they hit the green space, Warrior starts to fly through the air like Falkor from the Never Ending Story. The final image is a freeze frame – with the Epcot Mafia reunited again, laughing at the trainwreck that was Fox’s marriage.
Seeing other people crawl back their incredibly bad decisions, one can only imagine that the current X*Crown champion is...
Green.
Densely packed trees, surrounded by thick bushes, and lush vegetation as far as the eye can see. The screen bursts with enough nature that viewers might think they were looking at the everglades – the passionate heart of Florida Men everywhere. But who can know a Florida Man’s heart?
As the image pushes further into the recesses of this jungle, the aesthetics betray the ecosystem on display. Far more white pines begin appearing, which are joined by enough grass to second guess the initial wetland hunch – and by the time the shaky image comes across pavement, viewers will remember why they flunked out of scouts. Taking on a first person perspective, the camera is strolling through a park. Bobbing along as our unseen host tries to focus on the path, and not get distracted by the woods. The camera nods politely at passers-by, most of whom seem to find its friendly nature off-putting. Or maybe there is something else about the protagonist that is causing them alarm? More than one jogger didn’t start their brisk pace until after crossing the camera's path. For these rude reactions, the gasps don’t seem to take the spring out of the camera’s step, as it approaches the end of the green space to reveal that we’ve been strolling through Central Park.
Stepping out of the relatively tranquil forest of Central Park, and into the gridlocked hell known as Manhattan – the camera looks over to The Shops at Columbus Circle. If that is the desired destination, it would be easy to jaywalk over, given the bumper-to-bumper traffic, but instead the POV perspective chooses to stroll down the sidewalk. Walking up to the light, a hand reaches out – pushing the pedestrian call button. Some people might push the button repeatedly, trying to entertain themselves while the light waited to turn green, like multiple presses would somehow speed up the process – but our host shows great patience. He is in no hurry.
Green.
Moseying across the street, the camera nods at children – who look frightened and cling to their parent’s legs. The perspective pays them no mind, making its way into the upscale plaza. The air conditioning hits immediately. A pan takes in the posh trappings, before spotting its desired destination. The blue door of Per Se. Thomas Keller’s French Restaurant overlooking the park. Fine dining with a view of the grounding greens...
No sooner has the camera pushed through the Blue Door, then its path is barred by the maître d.
Maître d':
May I help you?
“Sherman, party of one. Reservation at 6.”
Maître d':
Sir, we have a strict dress code...
“I was concerned Brioni might no longer be in fashion. Is my suit not appropriate for your establishment?”
Maître d':
It’s not that it’s...
A waiter leans in, whispering to the maître d.
Waiter:
...burn victim...
Oh. Realizing his social faux pas, and not wanting to get cancelled for discriminating against the less fortunate, the maître d’s eyes widen slightly in terror. The Per Se employee is too well trained to break into a cold sweat, but his gaze darts about scanning the area to see if any cellphones recorded this horrific lapse in judgement.
“It’s ...what?”
Maître d':
Nothing sir... your table is ready now, my apologies for the delay.
With that the camera is led through Per Se – whose elegant decorum makes it easy to see why the restaurant has three Michelin stars. Wandering past mouth-watering creations, the camera tries not to stray towards any one meal – as staring would not be polite. Arriving at a corner table, with a magnificent view of the park – the camera suddenly stops shaking. There is a clear beat – when a man wearing a blue suit STEPS OUT of the perspective. This implies that we had been seeing the world through this man’s eyes, but now our host has separated from the videographer – who takes a more rigid, clean and professional frame. Those that were experiencing motion sickness can put down the GRAVOL.
Maître d':
Your waiter this evening will be Remy, bon appétit.
Despite being centered in a medium shot, the guest is obscured by a menu he’s observing.
Remy:
Can I start monsieur with something to drink?
“The chef's tasting menu, with a bottle of Le Clos Saint-Hilaire 1998.”
Remy:
Very good, sir.
With that the diner hands his menu to the waiting staff, revealing his face.
Rather than his Wally Gator by way of Gorn look, Florida Man is now sporting the mask of a human.
Shiny plastic hair, skin, and clearly fake eyes, are actually more disturbing than his reptilian visage. Something about the desire to pass as normal, and failing so magnificently, is deeply upsetting. Whether this change of appearance will let Florida Man pass for a human remains to be seen.
SHERMAN:
Good evening XHF. You may be familiar with my previous work, under the broad dehumanizing umbrella of Florida Man. I am now going by my Christian name of Sherman. Some of my previous actions may have given you cause for alarm, but it is my sincere wish that we move past those unfortunate incidents, and into a new understanding.
Remy returns with the Saint-Hilaire – opening it in front of the abomination. Sherman is handed the cork for inspection, before nodding – and the first glass is poured.
SHERMAN:
Please humour that request. It’s vitally important to check any preconceptions that you may have of me, because any disgruntled fan baggage is just going to make you HATE what is going to come next. And you are going to be seeing a lot of me, because I AM going to be the next X*Crown champion.
Florida Man might guzzle this twelve hundred dollar a bottle booze, but Sherman has gone to finishing school. He smells it first.
SHERMAN:
Now I may just be trying to win the championship to spite J-RoK, but on paper I really am the only logical choice.
BEEF had a fantastic run in the Rumble. To listen to him, you'd think he was a rookie who came out of nowhere. Very modest, but false. BEEF had already had XHF runs in the past, but that Rumble performance reminded everyone just how dominating he can be. ...Only most people associate BEEF with GUNS, and its X*Crown monopoly has already put the AWF to shame. Oh, but he is representing DTF in this competition? How quaint. A federation that has a month’s shelf life going straight to the top of the Network. That would go over well with the rest of the affiliates. Then there’s the fact that it is a training facility. The fed that trains rookies immediate has the top star on the Network. Forget the fact that trainee has years of Network experience under his belt, and is basically a ringer. It’s a nice narrative, and would certainly amuse Jack Diamond to no end. I think the Network would find, however, that the short-term amusement would lead to some very long-term problems.
Jack Diamond is also the reason that Sam Sawyer isn’t a viable contender. Tap Out wrestling has spent over a year building up their heavyweight title as the best of the best. Selecting competitors to put on broadways, that take twice as long as the X*Crown multi-mans. That is a conscious micro-aggression. Every federation should see their own title as THE BEST... good for them... but the technical clinic TOW worker style? Would they ever put their heavyweight title under the X*Crown on their own shows? Nah. Alternate shows at best. And given their limited roster, which strap would get the stronger opponents? I’m not saying that TOW isn’t destined to get the crown, and go to the very top – but this early in their own heavyweight championship’s history? The X*Crown would be a curse. Cross Recoba wants that top tier recognition, but another prize to play with? If Recoba was serious, he would have sent a stronger star than Sawyer.
Similar situation for Hardkore World. They are still testing the Network waters, and you can tell they are a little weary of the Global scene. When it came to finding a representative for Overheated, they went with Steve Awesome. Steve is an old XHF hand who has been around the block – can't learn any new tricks - but it makes sense from an HKW perspective. Jonnie Valentine knows that XHF is more familiar with Steve’s work than the rest of their federation, so if he loses they aren’t really embarrassed. Steve hasn’t really been at HKW long enough to be considered one of their own, so there is no downside for them. The only problem is if he actually wins. They have a large pool of talent to draw from for house shows, but like Tap Out – the arena shows rely on a set group of players, and they already have quite a few titles. It would be a similar situation to when Fireside held the crown. Remember that? Not fondly. Every show, the cards, top to bottom, were title fights. So many title fights, the belts lost their lustre, and the roster started to get worn down. The workers were so tired, and the belts meant so little, that we had a RECORD NUMBER of X*Crown winners in that short time. I’m not saying Valentine would create less than ideal wrestling situations to pass the crown around the way that Caffrey did, I’m just pointing out that the X*Crown isn’t good for Hardkore World. It is only good for Steve. He’s selfish enough to win it, but it would hurt a lot of people to fluff his ego.
Perhaps the champion will retain? Then GUNS could maintain control of the crown until at least End of Days. ...Oh, they’re on vacation until November, right? That shouldn’t effect Foxie... Fox; his championship run thus far has felt like a vacation. GUNS pretty much lets talent make their own schedule in terms of dates, but even when he could call the shots, no one will accuse Fox of being a fighting champion. He only had two defences, one against my former alter ego, and I have the feeling if Florida Man hadn’t shown up – Fox would have just decked a child and called it a day. Second one against Death Trap at least wasn’t spur of the moment, and felt competitive. Only Trap was coming off a Sainovic bloodbath – and even then, if you look at the damage he took, I can tell you which competitor did the heavy lifting. Hey, Fox does the bare minimum and looks like gold – good for him. Hit hard, hit fast. Nice economizing. With attention spans shortening, I can certainly see why his two-minute promos get more hits than more methodical approaches... and in the ring, who cares about opponent's safety? He talks the talk, walks the walk – only problem is, he’s more concerned with being champion than behaving like a champion. There are so many potential dream matches in Fox title pairings that the fans would kill for, and if the Network really plays there cards right – they might get ONE in the next three months.
Remy returns with the oysters and pearls dish to start. Nodding in appreciation, Sherman places a serviette on his lap, before selecting the proper fork.
Sherman:
Excuse me.
The former gator takes a bite, stopping to chew, and refusing to speak with his mouth full. It is only after swallowing, that Sherman continues.
Sherman:
The nature of wrestling means that any of the four might get lucky, but for the sake of TOW, HKW, DTF, and GUNS - I am going to defeat them. In terms of my own place on the Network - I am very active and open. Though unbecoming, I have petitioned J-RoK on numerous occasions to book me more often, and have made appearances on other Network affiliates including WUK, HKW, CAR, BONES and GUNS. Why I have wrestled in more matches for GUNS since Fox won them the crown, than Fox himself has. Truly damning. My limited J-RoK appearances in the King of Hokkaido tournament saw me incur a number of losses, so there will be no shortage of potential challengers with viable arguments for title shots – when I pull off the victory.
Remy returns to remove the oyster dish, replacing it with a salad of winter radish. Sherman again waits to finish chewing.
Sherman:
Though perfectly reasonable, concerns that I will immediately drop J-RoK for GUNS should be put to rest. As a WUK tag team champion, the Two Kingdom connection would make for a very uncomfortable working environment if I were to throw Nausicaä Suzuki’s administration under the bus. Besides, worried parties should look no further than Dylan Black. For all the awful treatment that Black has suffered from over the years at the hands of Kira’s business acumen, Dylan still hasn’t quit. Like Black – apparently I’m a glutton for punishment. Another thing we will have in common, is that I’ll be the only other J-RoK X*Crown champion.
The salad gets replaced by Fois Gras, which the menu dubs Terrine of Hudson Valley Moulard Duck. Sherman is about to take a bite when...
Maître d':
Remy!
Remy:
Yes, Renault?
Maître d':
Who put this Slim Jim display in the middle of the restaurant?
Remy:
Sacré bleu! I did not notice it. There were only the elevator repair men- Mon Dieu! We have no elevator! They must have been The Maoists, trying to take down our bourgeois haute cuisine!
Maître d':
And they will have succeeded! There is a Zagat critic due any minute. If he sees all this American jerky – Per Se will be ruined! We must sneak it out without the customers noticing!
Remy:
Dieu merci! We are saved! ...But how can we sneak so many Slim Jims out?
Maître d':
We will put them down our trousers, like the great escape!
Remy:
But Renault, I doubt I can fit that many Slim Jims down my pants.
Maître d':
Damn our French waistlines. If only there was someone who could take this entire Slim Jim load down their trousers in one sitting!
Remy:
Could such a man exist?
That certainly sounds like a problem for Florida Man. Sherman takes in this scene, which is playing out in the middle of the restaurant floor, while finishing his fois gras. Rather than rise to challenge, the man with the face of a man instead turns back to the camera.
Sherman:
A lot of my opponents have had less than charitable things to say about me. Like J-RoK management, the Night of Champion main eventers generally looked down on my previous personas' approach to wrestling. Yet of all the challengers that made it through Overheated – did anyone have a tougher opponent? I may have teased Esmur before the match, but in the ring he brought his work boots. That was an intense fight – and if I’m being honest with myself, I know it could have gone either way. Only... if anyone else had been paired with Esmur, there is no coin flip – he would have destroyed you. So when you’re looking down on me...
Looking across the room, Sherman notices a Mini-Estrella standing a good twenty feet from the bar. From the costume, Sherman would guess that this diminutive wrestler is the mini version of El Combatiante. El Combatiantito. To get past the dress code, the spandex must be made by Brooks Brothers. Having been left out of the battle for El Combatiante’s mask – it is clear that El Combatiantito wants a drink.
El CombatiantITO:
“Qué restaurante tan encantador, debo recordarlo para mi aniversario. Creo que Tina realmente disfrutaría la decoración.”
Florida Man’s Grasp of Spanish translates that too:
“Dang, I sure am sad the big version of me died in that Tokyo Dome fire. When I become big will I too die in a Tokyo Dome fire? Thinking about burning to death as a giant makes me want a drink. But the bar is so far away, and my legs are so short, it will take forever to get there. If only some Good Samaritan could toss this dwarf across the canyon which taunts my thirst. Even though that sport is now frowned upon, and not wildly practiced outside of the shithole known as Australia, perhaps the Lance Armstrong of Professional Dwarf Tossing is somehow nearby, hearing my prayers and can help me on my way.”
Sherman hears El Combatiantito’s cry for help, but finishing school taught him that polite society only looks out for number one. Not going to be tempted. It should be noted that Sherman is compulsively twisting his serviette as a coping mechanism.
Sherman:
Sawyer. I am pretty sure police officers notifying next of kin would give the NAME of the victim. Instead they clarify that it’s your birthmother... and not your mother? Was it their first time delivering the news? “Your Mom – we are referring to Mercedes not Martha by the way.” Nothing about that seemed real. I’m not saying you faked your biological mothers death for sympathy, but those cops were definitely actors. And no self-respecting SAG member is working right now, so they were bad actors. They might be scamming you. Try not to accidentally join a cult, Sam. Also they just addressed you as Sam – didn’t clarify that you were Sam Sawyer. That is fishy. And why do they keep having to track you down? Does your incredibly needy support system keep filing missing persons reports?
Speaking of those inept back-up dancers, Sam, I was really touched when they swore at a previously unseen executive, then proceeded to win him over with the power of friendship. Got some strong Step Up 3 vibes going on. It’s actually realistic, however, because Lopez’d rather risk his own job asking for you to get an extension, then watch your sidekicks wrestle. We aren't even talking about the eight hours they were threatening to perform, he didn’t want to see those clowns do shit for a single minute. That’s how scared or bored he was. Brian Lopez might be as much an executive as those fake cops were cops, but I really identify with how tiresome he finds your crew. (slow clap) “Well done, Joey.”
Incidentally, Lopez does for previously wrestling executives what Marissa Clark does for sports journalism. Did you see her op-ed in Voices of Wrestling? You should check it out, Sam... certainly reads like a paid advertisement. It pretends to grant concessions to your opponents, like it was somehow unbiased – while using language that is clearly geared towards selling you hard as the underdog to beat. The only problem is, even though Marissa is killing herself to make you seem somewhat respectable... even SHE doesn’t seem to believe it. OH WELL, at least when you lose badly – Tap Out won’t blame you for wasting an opportunity that a dozen other stars would have excelled with. Because you’ve already got your excuses lined up. Sawyer just didn’t have time to train... she was in mourning.
Apparently Remy is busy, and Gaston will now be Sherman’s waiter. Removing the fois gras, Gaston puts down what the menu affectionately calls the Pavé of Mediterranean Lubina.
Sherman:
As a side note, Sawyer, you keep bragging about almost winning the X*Crown in your rookie year. From my memories of the Fireside X*Crown scene, weren’t you the only member of the roster NOT to win the strap? Weird flex. Which is to say, I’m very sorry for your loss. Also if you’re not being gaslighted about your dead mom, you’re definitely in on it.
Did you notice how Fox wants to be the big bad guy, but makes concessions for dead relatives? Pick a lane. Before Sherman can dig into the next dish, a certain A-Team leader approaches him.
Col. Hannibal:
FLO! Murdock won big on Wheel of Fortune.... including a trip to Hawaii! So we’re planning to break him out of the asylum so he’ll invite us as his guests. Aloha! Face has already thought of some very clever innuendos involving the word lay! Obviously this plan couldn’t come together without our fifth member, Florida Man – so are you in?
Sherman closes his eyes for a second to block out the hallucination.
Sherman:
BEEF – I watch your interviews and I think to myself: GOD DAMN, what a GREAT X*CROWN champion El Rey, Magnus, or Eminem would make.
Col. Hannibal:
Not to put too fine a timeline on your decision pal, but there is a very good chance another team is trying to trick Murdock into stealing a Russian helicopter pretending it’s part of a CIA mission to Baraq. If he bonds with those imposters, Murdock may take them to Hawaii instead, and B.A. Baracus will not pity us.
This is no different than his summer vacation to Derry, where he had to block out Pennywise. Just count to ten. When Sherman finally opens his eyes, the hallucination has disappeared and Gaston has swapped the Lubina for Maine Diver Sea Scallop.
Sherman:
Steve Awesome...
Maître d' (voice):
Remy! What happened to your pants?
Remy (voice):
I tried to put a Slim Jim down them, and it fell out, Renault. So I kept trying! When I finally succeeded in getting one down, I got arrogant- so I put a second one in, and you see what happened!
Maître d' (voice):
Zoot alor! Zagat will think we have the moral fibre of Pepé Le Pew with your trousers down around your ankles! If only there was someone here who could MacGyver a makeshift belt out of silly string, eight AAA batteries, a vinyl copy of Slayers’ Show No Mercy, Martin Van Pleet’s dentures, mortar from the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and a belt...
Remy (voice):
To fashion our salvation by making a practical object out of such random possessions would take a truly beautiful mind. But does such a genius inventor exist?
Nice try. Not going to fall for it. At this point the serviette that Sherman is twisting in his fist is wound so tight that it has actually drawn blood. The pain keeps Sherman focused on what’s important. Not being drawn back to the Florida side.
Sherman:
Steve Aweso-
A bearded lady pushes her way through the blue door.
Miss Garibaldi:
The MAN says this place don’t gots no drive-thru – and even if it did, they would only serve me if I was in a car. Stepping on a ladies civil liberties! Dang! All I wants to know is – WHICH ONE OF Y’ALL IS GONNA RIDE ON MY BACK LIKE I WAS A CAR SO WE CAN ORDER US SOME FRENCH FRIES?
As a dozen waiters muscle the freedom fighter out the door, Sherman almost rises from his seat to help the valiant woman. Almost. His belly rumbles. It wants fries. Don’t make me drown you, belly.
Sherman:
Fox. I like how every person involved in the Throne of Gold has a story to tell. Sawyer is possibly being brainwashed by a cult, or mourning the death of an absentee gene pool. BEEF is training, and showing everyone that he owes everything to El Rey and not the training facility he actually represents. Steve Awesome is searching for an old man, with random trash talk that doesn’t really gel as part of the cohesive narrative, but bless his heart if he doesn’t try. And then there’s you... feeling put out at having to defend your belt. That is the story right? If you had anything going on beyond being pissed off, I certainly missed it. Wouldn’t be the first time. Now maybe your story isn’t as grand in scope or depth as everyone else’s, but at least the resentment at having to defend the crown is real. Incredibly realistic. How dare we...
Oh no, another hallucination. Close your eyes. Count to ten. Open them. Here goes nothing...
Tinto (holding up piece of paper):
Mister Man – I was cleaning Marty’s attic when I found a map to One Eyed Willie’s treasure.
Nope. Sherman forces his eyes shut. Count to twenty this time. It’s all in your head. Not completely out of your system yet, but you’re almost completely detoxed. Soon you’ll be an average person from nowhere in particular. Breathing deeply, Sherman slowly opens his eyes...
John Matuszak:
SLOTH LOVES TINTO!
Tinto:
Truffle shuffle!
After doing a little dance, Tinto holds up his map with a smile. Ignoring these goonies, Sherman raises his hand.
Sherman:
CHECK, PLEASE!
This human being thing is difficult.
A little shaken from his first test run in a respectable eatery, Sherman walks with a slight hunch as he steps out into The Shops at Columbus Circle. This will pass. Loosening his tie, the former Floridian sits down on a bench. Finding some tourists trying to take pictures behind him, Sherman shifts his body to avoid being asked for assistance. A middle-aged woman helps the two men instead.
Woman:
Standing there? Got it. First time in New York?
Shorter Man:
Thank you, yes. We’re just up from Florida celebrating our fifth anniversary.
Woman:
That's lovely - wait - Florida? You poor dears.
Taller Man:
It’s a little tense there right now, but-
Woman (taking picture):
Well the important thing is you’re here, safe now, and never have to go back to that cesspool.
Shorter Man:
Jacksonville is our home miss. We’re only here for vacation.
Woman:
I know New York is expensive, but there are so many other places you could relocate too...
Taller Man:
...It has many nice qualities. Our jobs are located there, along with our family and friends all living there. We have roots. It has more than its share of intolerant people at the moment, unfortunately, but it’s where we call home.
Woman:
That sounds crazy. I can’t imagine a self-respecting homosexual living in Florida-
Taller Man:
There are all kinds of people living in Florida. The Governor doesn’t have a hundred percent approval rating. Yeah, it’s scary – but there is good there too. You clearly have your own opinions on our state, which we don’t need to share. Thank you for the picture, good day.
The Karen decides to escalate the debate. Normally Florida Man would run to his constituent’s aid, regardless of sexual orientation... but this is Sherman. He is just a man. Finding the hatred to be nauseating, Sherman gets off the bench and starts making for the door.
Sherman:
...
Then he stops. Losing who he is – Gazoo called it.
Sherman:
...A lot of people told me that I was no good – that I was trash. Somewhere along the way I started to believe them. I remember... where it all started to go wrong. The Flag Match. Fireside can’t pay their electrical bill, lights flicker, and suddenly I’m cheating Fox out of his title.
Because Global titles have multiple federations involved, in order to keep the peace, they almost ALWAYS have clean finishes. Matches go until the better person gets the pin or the submission. Little room for debate. Few controversial run-ins. Don't need to start a war. Junior, X*Crown, tag – they are all pretty good about making the new champion look like they actually earned it. I beat you Fox. I earned the Junior title. I ended your incredibly successful run. You wanted out of the division anyway to pursue the X*Crown – congratulations on finally pulling that off, by the way. So I gave you what you wanted, an out to new pastures. You were free to move on to bigger things.
Only it wasn’t enough that you were free... or that you had defended multiple times in matches against me, before I finally beat you. Or that you had avoided being pinned or submitted, but lost on a lousy flag match. The best POSSIBLE out for looking strong in defeat. Instead of going, “after all these epic battles, I was so warn down, this guy was able to climb a pole faster than me” – YOU COULDN’T LIVE WITH THAT, so instead the narrative immediately became "while the lights were out, someone hit me to give that buffoon the steal." I’m no longer a champion; I’m a patsy of one of your enemies. That wasn't cool. So get on your soapbox about personal responsibility, but you sure as hell didn’t own that loss. And pulling me down to explain the finish didn’t even help you. You didn’t need to be protected. Even without a belt, you were on top! ...BUT IT DID BURY ME. All the subsequent bullshit from Vodka’s joke event to Kira’s inability to book me if HIS LIFE depended on it – being treated by the Network like an enhancement gag? That all started with your petulant lies. And they were lies.
...Because the truth is, I was the better man that night, and I’m about to be the better man again.
Reaching up, Sherman claws at his face.
Sherman:
NO. What am I doing? There is nothing wrong with me. I don’t need to change.
Tearing at the human face mask, it is revealed that the crocodile mask is beneath it. With green sticking out under the flesh tone, Sherman looks like one of the Visitors from V.
Sherman:
...Maybe you’re the one that needs to take a LONG LOOK in the mirror.
As Sherman continues to peel off skin, some viewers may find it upsetting, so the camera pans back to the married tourists being harassed by an irate Karen.
Woman:
YOU ARE NO ALLIES! GO BACK TO FLORIDA; YOU PEOPLE DESERVE IT!
“Excuse me miss?”
The Karen turns just in time for Florida Man to throw a custard pie in her face.
Woman:
You son of a-
The second one is a raspberry pie.
Florida Man:
You seem a little stressed, might I suggest eating pie?
The large crowd of angry New Yorkers that were enjoying watching this woman’s wildly hypocritical hate mongering look like they're going to turn on your favourite neighbourhood robbing gator for committing assault. Only one thing for it charges like that-
Florida Man:
FOOD FIGHT!
Florida Man can't solve the world's problems, but he does have bandaid distractions - in pecan flavour mostly. Before you know it, every person in The Shops on Columbus Circle are throwing pies at one another. Where did all these pastries come from? Perhaps the cynical New Yorkers were always carrying them, and FML just brought out their inner Floridians.
Taller Man:
Thank you, Florida Man.
Shorter Man:
We love you, Florida Man.
Florida Man hugs the traumatized couple.
Florida Man:
It’s going to get better.
Sadly our protagonist’s life is dictated by the ironic karma of situational comedies, and no sooner does he promise a better tomorrow than a dozen men in suits descend on the messy hijinks. A familiar face emerges from behind two of the federal agents.
Dan Marino (pointing):
That’s him, that’s the guy!
Oh right – the kidnapping charges.
Florida Man:
Dang.
As the FBI descend on him, Florida Man makes a break for it. Ducking flying pies, Florida Man charges for the exit with all the grace of his hero, Dan Marino. It’s not much of a manhunt, because FML is full of fois gras and it is disgusting. How do humans do it? The feds continue to close in on him. They are gaining. Closer. This is it!
Two agents dive at him.
You wouldn’t know it from his cartoon gator mask, but Florida Man has closed his eyes because he can’t look at the upcoming sack. This is going to be painful.
It should be painful.
Where is the pain?
DING.
The agents hit the floor hard, as The Ultimate Warrior lifts Florida Man up on his back. Guns are drawn, shots are fired, but the FBI is no match for a WWF champion turned little girl’s bike.
Florida Man:
Warrior!
Ultimate Warrior:
Ding!
“And he's not alone.”
A green face peaks up from one of the massive biceps that lead to apparent handlebars. Gazoo is also riding on Warrior’s back. And Sky Force Delta flies behind the bike, the pigeons using their glock to return fire. That is a horrible idea. They probably shouldn’t do that.
Florida Man:
What are you all doing here, Gaz? Am I dead? Is this heaven?
Gazoo (ducking bullets):
We're still on terra firms, Flo. It seemed like you could use a hand.
Florida Man:
But after the way I treated you...
Ultimate Warrior:
DING.
Gazoo:
Warrior is right. You had a momentary lapse of judgement, but that’s just you being you. You wouldn’t be Florida Man if you didn’t occasional do things that threatened the lives of your friends and family. It isn't like we haven't tried the same in the past, and aren't planning to get revenge very soon. Nothing but Floridians here.
Florida Man:
Aw shucks, you guys are the best friends a fella could ask for!
A certain 7-Eleven clerk pops up from behind The Ultimate Warrior’s back as well. There sure are a lot of people riding on this bike. He is really ripped.
Nametag Melvin:
Why don’t we hang out at the Fortress of Solitude until the heat dies down... or Night of Champions, whichever comes first.
Florida Man:
Is it my birthday?
Dan Marino (jumping on board Warrior’s back):
Sorry for narcing fellas. It was unbecoming of a dolphin. These feds are real squares; can I hang out with you guys?
Florida Man (big shitting eating grin is the same one he always has because it is a mask):
Like the Epcot Mafia could stay mad at you, Dan Marino. (wrapping his arms around his friends) Fox was right – taking personal responsibility for your actions is for assholes.
No, that isn’t right. There is a lesson to be learned here.
Florida Man:
...I still feel bad about it-
Gazoo:
Don’t worry Flo, you might have been tempted to destroy your personal relationships for a shot at the gold – just like BEEF, Sawyer and low stakes Awesome did. But you didn’t cause any irreversible harm that you will never be able to come back from, and just makes you a miserable broken person... LIKE FOX DID.
Florida Man:
Well that’s an incredible relief. ...Sucks to be Foxie.
Col. Hannibal (lighting a cigar):
Hawaii it is! FACE says we're all gonna get laid!
YAY! Breaking through a window, The Ultimate Warrior turns towards Central Park. Only before they hit the green space, Warrior starts to fly through the air like Falkor from the Never Ending Story. The final image is a freeze frame – with the Epcot Mafia reunited again, laughing at the trainwreck that was Fox’s marriage.
Seeing other people crawl back their incredibly bad decisions, one can only imagine that the current X*Crown champion is...
Green.