▶The Hugh Solomon Show
*Applause*
The studio audience follows the prompt perfectly, clapping politely as a host with far too white teeth hops onto the stage, standing before a big glowing sign of “The Hugh Solomon Show.” The clapping dies down as Solomon opens his arms to his audience.
“Thank you, thank you, and welcome to what is bound to be yet another amazing show!” He speaks with the perfect talk-show tone, his toothy grin never leaving his face. He sits himself in one of two plush-looking armchairs that framed the bright sign on stage.
“You didn’t come to listen to me talk to myself all night, did you? So, let’s not keep you waiting any longer!” This apparent catchphrase gets a polite response from the studio benches.
“My guest tonight is a man that in the world of professional wrestling needs no introduction, so I keep it brief. He is a multi-time world champion, a multi-time hall of famer, a Fortune 500 CEO and the man that hopes to turn his record-setting second Golden Intentions win into his third CWF World Championship at WrestleFest. Please welcome, Danny B!”
More polite applause as Danny, draped in a beautiful black suit, accented with gold and red pinstripes. Danny shakes hands with Solomon before settling himself into the remaining seat, sipping on the glass of water left for him.
“What a day it is when a living legend sits across from you. It’s a pleasure to have you here.”
“It’s a pleasure to be here, who doesn’t want to be featured on the…” Danny’s eyes flicker to the sign on the wall “... Hugh Solomon show?” The host’s smile never flickers.
“You’re too kind. So, let’s talk about it. How does a man who spends his youth training to be a wrestler, his early adult years putting people through tables become such a successful businessman? Hugh asks in his perfect tone.
LIKE HE GIVES A SHIT.
“Hugh. There’s two ways to be successful in the world of business these days. A leg-up or a social media following. Luckily for me. I had both when I inherited the company.” Danny responded in the same, polite tone he had used during the introduction, his eyes unwavering.
“I find that a surprising answer.” Came the response from the host, moving his hands a little as he spoke. “Most would say that hard work and dedication are the keys to success.
“They’d also spent their time writing fake inspirational posts for LinkedIn. Every day, tens of thousands of people around the world work hard and show dedication, many in conditions we could only see in our nightmares. They aren’t rich, or powerful, but I am. Don’t get me wrong, since I found myself in the position I am in, I have had to work to keep it, after all, the fall is that much worse when you’re higher up in the first place.”
ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY PUSH YOU.
Danny blinks out the twitch in his eye.
“Interesting insight. You mention, of course, that you already had a following when you transitioned to the boardroom. This, of course, came from your now-legendary wrestling career. What was it that made you decide to hang up the boots and lace up the wing-tips?”
“The time was right. I had achieved everything I could achieve. In just a few short years, I accomplished more than most do in their entire careers. When the injuries started catching up, I decided it was time to move away from one element of the business and into another, and that’s when I launched CWR. I’d had a taste of boardroom life when I had taken over as CWF commissioner, and I liked that role. CWR may not have panned out in its first iteration, but it sowed the seed for what I wanted to do next.”
“Interesting. But, we aren’t here to talk about your achievements while wearing a suit and tie. We’re here to talk about WrestleFest. How did a man who had left it all behind all those years ago be in this position today?”
“I had no choice.”
“And what do you mean by that?” Hugh responded quickly, sounding more like a therapist than an interviewer.
“I was hauled into 2326 against my will.” Danny replied totally deadpan, looking Hugh dead in the eye.
“Right, but that is behind us now isn’t it? Why are you still here?
THEY WON’T FUCKING LET ME GO.
“The reason I left the business in the first place is because I had finally let go of loose threads. I learned that it was OK to leave things unfinished.” Danny uncrosses his legs and leans forward. “This business is an addiction Hugh. It’s so hard to leave it behind when you’re in. For those not in the know…” He turned towards the audience as he continued. “... Wrestling retirements aren’t exactly absolute. It’s rarer to stay retired than to not. I did my obligation, but when we came back, I had unfinished business.”
LIKE NOT BOWING DOWN TO A SYSTEM TRYING TO FUCK YOU.
His little finger twitched.
“So. I guess that brings us neatly to where we are now then doesn’t it? WrestleFest, the main event. Hell in a Cell. You challenge Gordy King for the Championship. You’ve gone on record many times now to state that you believe you should already be champion, and it’s fair to say you’ve had your chances. What makes this time different?”
Danny bit back his original response, using the water glass as a cover for the slight flicker of malice that crossed his face. When he looked up again at the unsettling, plastered-on smile of the show host, he was calm and ready to respond.
“I’m going to take that question and put a pin in it for now. You are right, I have talked a lot about my feelings regarding how we got here…”
EVERY FUCKING CHANCE TORN AWAY.
“...To the point of exhaustion, if Caledonia’s words last week are anything to go by. I have strong opinions. No one has ever accused me of being a whisper in the wind. I don’t like to let things weigh on my chest; when I have an issue, I voice it. Doesn’t exactly make me popular, but I have one life, I am not wasting it on hiding who I really am. No one ever changed the world by keeping quiet.” Danny trailed off, visibly going back through the last few sentences in his hand. “Sorry, got a little sidetracked there, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did, and I would like to press the point further, but right now we have to take a break. Be right back, folks!” The show jingle followed Hugh’s words. As soon as it was over, the energy in the room shifted. People filed onto the stage, some murmuring to others, some surrounding the host, others wiping the surfaces and refilling glasses.
Once the makeup woman had left her post in front of Solomon, Danny got a glimpse of him. Gone was the plastic smile and dead eyes, replaced by a shadow of a man, sunken and darkened by life. A face that wore every fake moment, every sad story, every shallow thought as a scar of death. The host caught his guest's eye, and the real man instantly vanished in favour of the chipper, TV-Ready show host that the camera loved so much. That smile returned, every tooth in his mouth on display, every one a dazzling white. Just in time, too, as the jingle played again and the crowd, as if directed, began clapping again.
“Welcome back! We’re still here with WrestleFest main eventer, Danny B! So, before the break we were talking about how this attempt was going to be different from your last attempts…”
NO, YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT IT FUCKHEAD.
“...care to elaborate further.”
NO, NOT REALLY.
“You know, I could sit here and talk a lot about what has been, and what could have been different…”
LIKE A FAIR SHOT?
“...but the reality is, it doesn’t matter what has been. What matters is now. WrestleFest is where the lights are brightest. It’s the biggest stage we have, the biggest moment in our year. Some people aren’t capable of handling that pressure. So many people crumble when that many people are screaming at them; so many look out at a crowd like that and are just the proverbial deer in headlights. Not me. This is where I shine. That moment I talked about. That’s my moment.”
IT’S ALWAYS BEEN MY MOMENT.
“Interesting…”
I KNOW IT’S FUCKING INTERESTING.
“...This is the second time you have been in the Main Event of WrestleFest, isn’t it? Fair to say that the last time didn’t exactly go your way?” Danny swore he saw a flicker in the host’s eyes.
“Ah, the End Games Match.” Ripper started carefully, looking as if he was looking back nostalgically. “That wasn’t my best night…”
“In truth, WrestleFest hasn’t really been your best night at all, has it?” Hugh interrupted, leaning forward. “WrestleFest two was the night you lost to the Blue Scorpion."
“Yes. You’re right. I was still finding my feet at that point…”
“So what you said before, that was nonsense then, was it?”
WHERE ARE YOU GOING WITH THIS, YOU STUPID OLD FUCK?
Danny’s hand twisted into a claw.
“There is always time to rewrite history, so long as you’re still breathing. What you’re forgetting is what happened after those matches. I may have lost to Scorpion in one of the worst nights in my career, but on the next Pay Per View? What happened then?”
Danny waited for a response from the smarmy host. It didn’t come.
“I won my first world championship. After I lost the End Games? I won my first Golden Intentions match. I don’t ever stay down long. I would consider that bad news for Gordy. I lost to Caledonia on the last show, sure, but when I lose big, I bounce back bigger.”
AND THIS TIME, I CAN’T AFFORD TO LOSE. I WON’T LOSE. HE’LL HAVE TO KILL ME FIRST.
“You mention your opponent, Gordy King. You’ve become quite familiar with each other over the last few months, haven’t you?
CAN’T GET RID OF THE PRICK.
“We have, yes. I want to say that we’ve developed a bit of respect for one another, but that would be unfair. I don’t believe he respects me the way he should. He has been granted passage past me in a way that means he has not yet had to face me at full force…
HANDED OPPORTUNITY AFTER OPPORTUNITY. THE GOLDEN GOOSE HAS BEEN HANDED HIS GOLDEN EGG. LET’S SEE HIM HOLD IT WHEN THE NOOSE TIGHTENS.
…But this time is different…
THIS TIME HE’S ALL MINE.
…As for the first time, its just him and me. I cannot convey just how excited I am to finally…
RIP HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF
…face him man-to-man, no more distractions.”
This answer elicited a polite applause from the crowd, which surprised Danny a little. He relaxed, sinking into the chair.
“Interesting…”
I SWEAR TO FUCKING CHRIST HIMSELF
“...Those are all pretty words. Easy to say that here, but what happens if Gordy just outwrestles you again? It wouldn’t be the first time.
I WONDER WHAT YOU WOULD LOOK LIKE IF I PULLED AWFUL FUCKING TIE. DO YOU GO PURPLE, OR ARE YOU A PUCE MAN?
“How many times has he held that belt now? Three? That’s more than you and you’ve got nearly 20 years of experience on him? Isn’t it fair to say that he’s just outright a better wrestler?
That smile. That smile. That…
“Maybe.”
NO.
“He’s younger than me, doesn’t have decades of bruises, breaks and beatdowns propping up his tired bones. He’s still got that pep, that youthful charm, that Canadian exuberance.
THE MOST PUNCHABLE FACE IN THE BUSINESS
But Hell in a Cell isn’t a wrestling match; it’s sanctioned war. Gordy has faced many trials in his short CWF career.
YOU’RE LYING RIPPER. WHY ARE YOU LYING?
But he’s never faced anything like this. This is what I thrive on. I was born to fight in environments like these.
YOU WERE BORN TO PUT PEOPLE LIKE GORDY KING DOWN FOR GOOD.
It was always going to be an uphill fight for Gordy, but he made it personal. He tried to use my own tactics against me. Commendable as it was, it was a critical error in his game plan…”
Hugh held up a hand to cut Danny off. Ripper’s eyes narrowed.
“We don’t have time for one of your sililoquies this evening.”
Danny sat stunned. Hugh didn’t follow up on this statement. No one in the studio seemed to be breathing. All stood still for a very, very long moment.
“Maybe you’re right.” Danny found himself saying, just to break the air. “Why don’t you ask another one of your excellent questions, Hugh Solomon of the Hugh Solomon Show? By the way, Hugh’s Hour was right there; didn’t fancy the alliteration?”
Finally, that smile slipped. Barely, but enough for the Ripper to feel the satisfaction.
“Well, it seems as if we are out of time for this evening…”
“Nope. We have loads of time left.”
Hugh lets loose the most abhorrent rehearsed showbiz laugh.
“As charming as ever, Danny.”
CHARMING. THAT’S A NEW ONE.
“Thank you, but we aren’t finished here today.”
“Aren’t we? I mean, you haven’t said anything new for months. Why would tonight be any different?”
“I think that’s a fair comment. I’ve been very held up on one small, unimportant perceived slight. OK, maybe more than one…
MAYBE? ARE YOU FUCKING DENSE, RIPPER?
But believe me when I say that my vision is clear for now. My focus is entirely on Gordy King and that Championship that I have not held in over ten years. I have nothing left to prove, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to lay down. My final day in the ring is coming, sooner rather than later; I plan to retire where I belong…
ON THEIR FALLEN CORPSES
… at the top of the mountain, with the title belt secured around my waist, where it should have been all along. Gordy just happens to be in my way.
AND SO HE MUST DIE.
“Interesting…”
Daanny wasn’t entirely aware of the glass shattering in his hand until he heard the gasp.
YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO THROW IT AT HIM.
"Why?"
SERIOUSLY. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU?
He was twirling a shard of glass between his fingers as the show staff descended upon him at a rapid pace.
ARE YOU GOING TO SHOW THEM WHO YOU REALLY ARE?
He stood as the staff tried to pull the shard away from him.
NONE OF THIS IS REAL. NO ONE WILL MISS HIM. DO WHAT YOU NEED TO DO.
He could hear screaming. He wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Maybe it was more than one person? He could feel it on his arm. It was so blindingly bright. He couldn’t feel his fingers.
THIS IS WHO YOU ARE. THIS IS WHO YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN. STOP HIDING BEHIND EXCUSES. STOP FINDING REASONS TO GIVE UP. TELL ME WHAT YOU MUST DO.
“Gordy King will fall. I will finish him.”
BE WHAT YOU WERE ALWAYS MEANT TO BE. REVEL IN WHO YOU ARE. YOU ARE THE COLOUR RED IN A WORLD FILLED WITH BLACK AND WHITE.
“I will save myself. My end will only ever be at my own hand.
WE ARE ONE. WE ARE FINAL.
“We are The Ripper.”
WE ARE OBLIVION.
That smile… that smile… my smile… Welcome to the madhouse.
