Latest Roleplays
As we fade in from black we are treated to the sight of Missy Monet, who is highly engaged in her Instagram feed, probably catching up on all the latest Odell Beckman Jr. gossip that’s going down. She is standing about ten feet away from the camera, and seemingly has no idea that it is even on. Missy is wearing an extremely tight red spaghetti strap shirt which the statement “the cup filth over” is an understatement — seriously we’re like a slight sneeze from a NC-17 rating.
And just as you’re about to ask the question where’s the Simon guy, the top of his begins to creep up from the bottom of the screen. Loveless is close enough that you can see the end of the black roots of his hair end and the dye blonde job of his hair begins. As the rest of his face begins to emerge, he is wearing a pair of Aviator sunglasses that cover his eyes and lacks any sort of emotion on his face, but looks as if he hasn’t shaved in a couple of weeks. His nose damn near hits the camera before he opens his mouth.
LOVELESS: “Missy!”
There is no response from his manager.
And as if there were a director running this show, the camera suddenly cuts and Simon disappears. Once again all that is in the frame is Missy showcasing her ability to thumb through her phone. For a second time, Simon’s head slowly crawls onto screen, this time he enters from the right and now has a smirk on his face.
LOVELESS: “Missy!”
For a second time, there is no response from his manager.
And for the second time there is a weird cut which makes Simon disappear and puts Missy back on the screen by herself. As if no time has passed whatsoever, or as if she hasn’t done anything other on this day rather than thumb through her IG or Snapchat, Missy continues to be in the same position. However, it has gotten a little colder in the room. For the third time now, Simon’s head begins to creep onto the screen, from the left, both close and slowly into view.
LOVELESS: “Missy!”
This time, however, she does respond by looking up from her phone towards Simon and giving a “huh” sound.
LOVELESS: “It finally happened! After all of this time away from us, the red dot on the camera turned on again. Do you know what this means, Missy? Do you? It means that my prayers have finally been answered by GOD himself and we’re back in business! That’s what it means, Missy.”
MISSY: “Is that god with just a capital G or…”
LOVELESS: “Nope, we’re not doing that again. Just chew your gum and when I tell you to do the thing, do the thing.”
Loveless points towards Missy without ever turning his head towards her and she seemingly obliges by just going back to popping some bubbles and thumbing through her phone once again. Simon gets his whole face in front of the camera, nearly knocking it down with how close he is and it must be said for someone who dyes his hair that color and doesn’t shave much he oddly has really smooth skin regardless. Slowly, he takes off his aviator sunglasses and stares directly into the camera.
LOVELESS: “I feel like we need a second introduction, I feel like it has been so long that I need to let you people know who I am exactly. My name is Simon Loveless and I am a professional wrestler for High Octane Wrestler. Yes, I am a member of this roster, in fact I have been a signed member of this roster since the beginning of July. What’s that? You don’t believe me? You must have forgotten when I smacked HOW Hall of Famer Chris Kostoff over the head with a chair a couple of times one week and then the very next week I beat him in the middle of the ring. I did that! That was me!
I’m not lying. I’m undefeated for my in-ring career in HOW. Hell, I’m the twentieth ranked wrestler on this roster… Missy, am I lying?”
Simon snaps his fingers towards Missy which grabs her attention long enough to pop her gum and shake her head in a resounding no motion in response. She goes right back to her phone stuff as Simon brings his fingers back down.
LOVELESS: “Of course, it’s been nearly a month since my last appearance on any form of HOW programming, so I understand if you might not remember. But fear not, now that the camera has returned to me and the red light has gone back on they’re going to put me back on television and I swear that I am never, ever going to let this camera out of my sight again. I swear to GOD that I will never let that happen… do you hear me GOD? Even if someone were to pluck out my e–oh wait, wait.
Strike that.
We can edit that out later. Remind me Missy to edit that out later. Yeah? And also get that other thing ready, because I’m getting close to giving you the signal.”
Simon sort of waves his hand towards his manager, but she doesn’t seem to be paying all that much attention to what he’s saying at this point.
LOVELESS: “But the important thing is that I’ve got the camera here now, the light is on and I’m ready. I’m so ready for Refueled thirty eight. I’m so ready to reintroduce myself to all the members of the HOW locker because a long time ago, I promised a Summer of Loveless, and while it might be getting late, summer still isn’t over yet. Now, I understand that originally my opponent was supposed to be Gilda Starr but she’s gone and gotten her face slapped on the side of a milk carton. And in her place I will be facing off against another HOW Hall of Famer, Jatt Starr.”
At this point Missy chimes in without looking up from her phone.
MISSY: “You’re fighting the guy in the wheelchair?”
Simon rubs his face with his hand, turns towards Missy and responds.
LOVELESS: “Yeah, that one.”
Simon turns back towards the camera.
LOVELESS: “And you’d think that I would be happy about this. That I would be all giddy about facing yet another HOW Hall of Famer as I look to forge my own legacy in this place. You’d think I would be looking forward to beating the piss out of another crippled has-been wrestler, but I ain’t! And I’ll tell you why I ain’t. Because I can smell this particular brand of bullshit from a mile away, even among all the piles of bullshit that professional wrestling tends to leave lying around, this brand sticks out. I see the damn screw job coming from a mile away, I know a ringer when I see one and Jatt Starr is a damn ringer. Sure, he was in a wheelchair, sure he hasn’t wrestled in a dozen or so years, but that’s what he wants me to think. I’m not falling for the rope-a-dope, Jatt. Put on a wig, some lipstick and however else you want to dress it up, it’s still bullshit.
Management is approving this, right? You’d think they would let a crippled old man in a wheelchair into the ring with me? A man who is willing to bash a chair over the head of Kostoff? I’d tip the wheelchair over in a heartbeat and stomp the feeble old man into a grave. There’s no way the reality of situation is what we’ve been led to believe. I know there’s something going on here. I know what this is really. It’s a conspiracy against me, Missy. It starts at the top and now includes Jatt Starr. He probably made his daughter disappear too, while we’re at it. Has anyone searched him?
They’re all against me. Conspiring to bring me down. And the worst part, Missy, is that I don’t even know why.”
It’s at this point that Missy must have heard her name again and looks up from her phone. Oddly enough though, she has something to add to this conversation.
MISSY: “Don’t conspiracies require at least three people?”
LOVELESS: “Yes, Missy.”
MISSY: “Who is the third person in your little conspiracy theory then, Simon-bear?”
LOVELESS: “Mario Maurako. Probably. Well, maybe. Jatt Starr is connected to the highest levels of the roster, the highest levels management. It could be anyone, honestly. But that’s the beauty of it all… a plan where you don’t see the twist coming, like a M. Night Shamal-whatever movie before he sold out. You know the twist is coming, you just don’t know where it could be coming from. And that’s what makes it a conspiracy, Missy. Everyone is suspect.”
MISSY: “Well, it’s not me.”
Simon has no response to that and just gives it a couple of seconds before Missy is once again distracted by the pretty, pretty lights of the internet.
LOVELESS: “I’m not happy HOW. Hell no. I know a scam coming a mile. I was born into the world of professional wrestling, my father and my mother were both wrestlers. I’ve seen them screwed over by promoter after promoter in similar fashion. Promised one thing, just to be taken for the ride. I’d be there waiting at home in Seattle while my father wastes three days of his life making the trip down the coast. They’d tell him, ‘come on down to Los Angeles and face this guy, it could be your big break!’ But in reality that was just them getting their hooks into my father to get him to the show and then bam, they’d hit him with the ringer. No big break that week, just enough cash to pay for a night’s dinner for one while he’s missing his only son’s birthday.
Then he’d come home and tell me ‘what are you going to do about it? Complain to management? I’d never work in that town again.’ Promoters taking advantage of the desperate lives of wrestlers trying to make ends meet… that’s it, isn’t it Starr?
My desperation of getting back on television here in HOW brought this idea on for you, didn’t it? Announce my match, send the camera with the little red light and then boom switch it up for the ringer. What am I going to do about it? Complain to GOD?
Pffffft… no win situation for me. Jatt Starr, I’ll give you this… you’re playing one hell of a mind game on me right now.”
Simon pauses, rubs his face on more time before putting his sunglasses back onto his face. He then turns towards Missy away from the camera and gives her the thumbs up. Which takes her a couple of moments to actually notice him doing, before she understands that that was the cue that he’s been hinting the entire time. Missy does some quick work with her thumbs on the screen and sure enough Creed’s “My Sacrifice” begins to play in the background from Missy’s phone. Take it away Scott Stapp!
LOVELESS: “Nope, I’m going to show up. I’m going to go toe-to-toe with yet another HOW Hall of Famer and continue to crawl and scratch my way up the rankings, damn any man that tries to stand in my way. Conspiracy or not, I will etch my name into the record books anyway that I seem fit. You’re not going to like it, you’re not going to enjoy what I do… but I don’t care.”
Simon pauses, as the song continues to play in the background.
LOVELESS: “I will have my day in the sun. I will make you all remember that this was the Summer of Loveless, and I will one day down the road have fireball thingies spin around the screen and blow up announcing my entrance into the HOW Hall of Fame. Even while this shitty Creed song plays in the background.”
Simon jabs his finger into the lens of the camera as Scott Stapp finishes crooning and the screen cuts to static before fading out..