Latest Roleplays
April 11, 2022.
“Is it on? Get the camera on my good side, as in whichever side it is pointing because I always look good.”
“It is on.”
P$nny L4ne the Head of Digital Media for HOW smiles at the camera, “hello all of you HOW fans, I got a real scoop for you all today,” she points behind her. “I am currently at the Saint Francis Hospital in Memphis where we should soon see someone leaving and we all have important hard-hitting questions for this man.”
The sliding door automatically opens, and Steve Harrison is rolled out by a nurse his head bandaged but nothing on his knee with Jack Marley to the left of him. They speak softly between each other and Jack walks off. Steve stands up slowly and stretches his arms to the side and then the sky. He cracks his back and then leans against the pillar of the entrance way to the Hospital.
P$nny looks to camera and with a wink begins moving quickly towards Harrison, “we got him.”
Harrisons eyes get big in surprise as L4ne converges on his position, “IS IT TRUE?” she yells at him.
“What the hell?”
She moves the mic back and forth, “the fans want to know, Steve, is it true?”
Harrison looks around, “who the hell are you?”
“P$nny L4ne and I ask the questions around here.”
“The hospital?”
“Stop ducking the question, Harrison and tell us if it is true.”
Steve Harrison looking completely off guard takes a step back. He surveys the area to see if there is anyone that can stop this bombardment of questions, but Jack had disappeared, and he was by himself. “I am leaving the hospital, what exactly am I ducking?”
“Not good enough, we know it is because you are…LACTOSE INTOLERANT!” she emphasizes the statement and stuffs the mics into Steve’s face, he moves his head to side with an annoyed look on his face.
Harrison goes to say something expecting a different question but then just starts laughing when he registers the question, “is this a rib? Did Clay Byrd put you up to this?”
She shakes her head emphatically, “we have it on good record that you are nothing, but a phony fan of milk and the fans deserve the truth.”
Steve’s smile fades, “wait– this is for real?”
“HOW does not like a fake liar, Mr. Harrison so yes this is very much real.”
The Miracle Man sighs, and his shoulders drop, “I am leaving the hospital…”
“HE ADMITS IT, HE IS IN THE HOSPITAL BECAUSE OF MILK!”
Harrison shakes his head angrily at P$nny, “I was saying I am leaving the hospital after a hard-fought battle what type of gotcha bullshit journalism is this and which fox affiliate will it be airing on?”
“You aren’t answering the question.”
“Who in the hell is paying you for this god-awful nonsense you are trying to make us believe is relevant?” Steve has now composed himself mentally, but his face is becoming red as he is seething at the drivel coming his way after being released from the hospital.
P$nny moves her pink hair from her face, “I am handsomely paid by the best wrestler and CEO that HOW has ever had: Michael Lee Best! Now answer the question.”
Steve moves his left hand over his eyes to get the sun out of his head. “Look, I don’t have time to waste on this. If you miss the Miracle Milk so much, I am sure some bodega has some expired bottles in the back.”
She shakes her head and with a rapid tap of her right foot continues, “nobody has seen you drink your precious milk and yet you are out here still making money off it.”
Steve rubs his face obviously becoming more and more confused about this conversation. “Look, I really don’t think anyone cares about the milk anymore or if I drink it. I have a headache and have not properly celebrated my LSD Title victory.” The man we all love attempts to move away from P$nny but she walks in front of him.
“The fans of HOW do not care about your made-up titles they want you to finally admit that you hate milk, cheese, ice cream, and god forbid…butter!”
Jack Marley pulls up in front with a Hyundai Genesis rental car. P$nny jumps out of the way and Steve makes a dash towards the car. “Hey mon, who is that smokin babe?”
“SHUT UP!” Harrison frantically attempts to open the door, “UNLOCK THE DOOR YOU TOOLBAG!”
“Look everyone, Steve is running away from the truth like he ran away from his responsibilities as head of Miracle Enterprise!”
The head of ME turns his head sharply, “WHAT DID YOU SAY?”
“Door is unlocked now, mon, come on. I am starved for some Golden Coral,” The Marley Man says as he watches Harrison turn his head towards P$nny but not let go of the door handle.
L4ne smiles as she gets the exact reaction she wanted, “just that you are nothing but a coward that cannot even admit he is lactose intolerant.”
Steve points at her, his face becoming beat red in fury, “keep my name out of your crappy new show and let this go because it has less of a shelf life as an Arthur Pleasant title reign.”
He opens the shotgun door and slides in carefully as to not hit his head and reopen his head injury and slams the door. P$nny looks on and then turns to the camera, ‘you heard it here first everyone, Steve Harrison is faker then Conor Fuse’s friendship!”
Fade
—
Fight the Powers That Be.
Those in power have the resources to stay in power.
That isn’t some stupid quote…that is just how the world works.
They make it difficult for those they are threatened by.
They create infighting between those attempting to reach a higher ceiling.
They use the media to manipulate stories…or you know–the narrative.
Hah.
The Board have gone out their way to hold onto the power they have attained, and The Highwaymen see through it and plan to bludgeon it.
I won the LSD Title!
Nah… let’s talk about Milk.
The Board Wing Media would have you believe I don’t even have a title since they would rather confuse people about silly pointless things. Look at the shiny dime in my left hand and not the right hand that is investing your paychecks in stonks of failing companies they have shares in. That is America at its Best.
Bunch of tyrannical liars.
I don’t even get time to celebrate before the treacherous hands of The Board come down to try to choke the happiness from my clean-shaven throat. I won’t comment on my visit to the hospital because there is nothing to worry about. I had some blood loss but none of that bothers me because I finally knocked that boulder of my shoulder and won a single title in HOW. They said it couldn’t be done. Conor Fuse in all his idiocy even drafted Arthur Pleasant because he was LSD Champion (at the time hehe-haha) ruining his friendship with David Noble and proving to everyone what a little piece of shit he is.
This Buds for you, Conor.
It is sad how easily Conor has been manipulated by The Board, but I suppose when you spend most of your time detached from reality this is bound to happen. So, when I hear we must work with them in War Games I find myself happy that I don’t have any hair because I would have pulled it all out by now. The sheer thought of having to work with those ignorant wrestlers gives me worse Heartburn then when Clay Byrd cooks dinner for everyone.
Not everything needs to be fried, Clay.
I don’t even have the pleasure to rub this title in everyone’s faces. Those that said I would never win a big match. Those that said Cancer Jiles carried me. Those that said how lazy I had become. Those that said I didn’t have the drive to keep fighting.
Those can all get in line and beg me for a title shot now.
I have a chip on my shoulder…still. I am still a miserable son of bitch because winning a belt hasn’t changed the culture but now, I have an asset in the battle for change. I am not going to pretend I am some fighter for the people because lord knows nobody would believe that anyway. I still have fools calling me a conman like it is some relevant insult that hits deep at my blackened soul.
Newsflash…a conman is liar and I have never lied a day in my life. I am too real for my own good and emotionless little cretins in HOW just cannot understand how that is the case and try to tear me down instead of listening to the truth.
Create an opinion and look for anything to back it up. That is the way of the dupe, and The Board will use that to confuse and work you. Do not come crawling to me when you are penniless and JPD seen burning whatever is left of your credibility. If you cannot look outside your narrow box, then please do not try to challenge me for the LSD Title because you will be humiliated and dragged for your ignorance.
That’s…right.
I laid down a challenge for anyone to step up and face The Suplex Saint.
All I heard were crickets.
It’s like people are afraid of failure and want to see if I happen to be a double champion after Sunday is over. More blood loss for your favorite Miracle Man is all these vultures wish for because they need me up in my eyeballs in hospital bills and injuries to overcome what I am now. Oh, you thought health insurance got better with Lee Best gone. Have you seen how cheap MOB is? This is a goddamn racket ran by a group of assholes, and I will gladly watch them disappear from my sight.
The Board, of course, tosses out the new HoTV Champion at me. They will try to use any advantage they can get muster to keep me out of War Games and harm The Highwaymen at getting revenge.
I could argue this unfair because I have done more than enough in HOW to earn a spot in War Games but that is a loser’s mentality. I will have to fight this monster at some time so it might as well be when a lot is at stake for both of us.
I will not just roll over.
I will fight the powers that be.
We will grab that power for ourselves, and I cannot promise it won’t corrupt but at least everyone will have a clean slate. HOW needs a change and I will lead a revolution that will leave all those who hate change begging for breath when my knee is on their throat. Don’t be that person. Don’t go the easy route. Don’t expect respect. Come and bring me your energy and we can all tear down the wall and give wrestlers the true freedom they deserve.
I am the LSD Champion.
I will be the HoTV Champion.
I may as well win War Games.
I will change the record books and you will all learn to love it or run away to BLUE and be shamed by the other deserters that ran away like spoiled children.
—
April 10th
Security Camera Footage
Steve Harrison walks down the hallway with Jack Marley on the right side of him holding the newly won LSD title. A towel is wrapped around Harrison’s head showing blood seeping through as he walks with a slight limp towards his locker room. Jack looks at him and begins speaking to him, but no audio can be heard on what he is saying. Steve looks down at him with a glossy look in his eyes and just nods his head sluggishly.
They turn a corner where a new camera shows footage and in front of the locker room Clay Byrd, Joe Bergman, and Steve Solex are seen popping champagne bottles towards Steve as they all attempt to celebrate the big title win. Harrison smiles meekly at it as he stumbles towards everyone. Byrd reaches out and snags the tripping Harrison and props him on the wall. He hands Harrison a bottle of champagne and The Miracle Man grasps it. His body is now covered with alcohol and blood, he tilts the bottle back and takes a small sip and he gives a bitter face seemingly not enjoying it.
The Highwaymen begin to laugh as they look at his expression and high five Harrison. They cheer the bottles together and liquid flies all over the hallway as the party started before even getting into the room. Steve gives a small smile as he continues to look out of it. He walks towards the locker room door and opens it and then falls face down inside the room, with half his body in the hallway and his face inside the room.
Everyone circles around him to see if he is ok as Steve Harrisons personal doctor comes from inside the room and checks his pulse. He points to the door and The Highwaymen and Jack lift Steve’s legs up and push him into the room and close the door behind them with a look of concern on his allies faces and panic in Jack Marley’s eyes.
STATIC
“I always get the scoop!”
P$nny L4Ne smiles into the camera in front of her, “I have it on good authority that was bottles of Milk and that is proof that Steve Harrison is lactose intolerant and thus a big fat phony conman.”
CLICK
“How did she get that footage?” the screechy annoying voice of Jack Marley is heard asking.
Steve Harrison slumps back in the couch at his Hotel in Orlando which is far away from the Disney creeps. The Man of LSD Miracles has a beer in his left hand. The left hand begins to lose color as he squeezes the beer bottle harder and harder in anger at the news story about his hospital visit. He takes a sip and then throws it across the hotel room. The beer bottle shatters, glass flying every way but thankfully far enough way that it does not come back and hit Steve, Jack, or the doctor who was standing behind Steve watching the TV.
“Why does she want to harp on this milk nonsense when there are far more important things to point out in that footage,” the doctor responds not taking his eyes off the TV even though it had been turned off. This is something he does because he understands that what he just said was going to get an angry response.
Steve doesn’t even turn around, but The Doc takes a step back as he sees Harrison’s shoulders shaking and then he replies hoarsely, “She got the footage because she is on The Boards payroll. They enjoy being trolls about milk while poking fun at me going to the hospital. There is nothing there they need to understand anyway, doc. I passed out because of blood loss from that harrowing match…that is all…RIGHT!?!”
The doc nods at the back of Steve’s head, “of course that is what we say, sir, but in reality, you know what needs to be done, correct?”
The shaking shoulder shrug, “stop worrying about details.”
Jack shakes his head, “details like dying or being in another coma are not things to stop worrying about, mon!”
The Man of Many Miracles stands up from the couch and turns to look at both Jack and the Doc. “Stop talking about this because there is nothing to see. I am fine,” Harrison does some weak looking jumping jacks, but it could also be because he had been drinking. “I don’t need anybody treating me like a child. If The Board wants to play these stupid games, they will get their stupid prize and it will result in them being embarrassed at War Games when The Highwaymen take all…the…gold.”
Jack sighs and grabs a joint from his pocket and lights it up without as care in the world. “Fine, mon, but also you need to worry about that guy who likes to squash people’s heads.”
Steve Harrison nods his freshly shaved head towards Jack, “it is a rather large obstacle in my way to War Games.”
“Fat joke?”
Steve shrugs, “I call a spade, a spade.”
“Um…I heard STRONK once wrestled a panda, an alligator, and a tiger all at once. He won by tying them together with an anaconda.”
“For real?” Harrison asks his eyebrow raising slightly with a tone that showed he did not believe such a tall tale.
“STRONK is able to slam a revolving door, I heard,” Jack says with fear in his voice.
Harrison rolls his eyes, “Ok, look… he is human just like you and me. It might take him longer to get dressed but we still both wear clothes.”
“He scares bears away from salmon after hibernation season.”
The Miracle Man frowns not enjoying Jack talking STRONK up, “he is nothing but a sentient jar of mayonnaise, and mayo always ruins a sandwich. I am not letting him ruin my winning streak and run to War Games.”
“Like the Miracle Whip!”
Steve smacks his forehead, “no—stop right there, anything but that. I am not blind. I have seen STRONK Godson come into HOW and dominate the competition. He is a meaty guy that moves slow but hits hard.”
“Meat from Golden Coral?”
“Um…”
“Like the gift card you promised him for beating GenoSyde!”
Harrison shifts his weight looking uncomfortable from that question. “Well…that was just some friendly ribbing about his weight and me trying to motivate him to win the match.”
“I don’t know, mon, that doesn’t sound like something STRONK would understand.”
Harrison, the kind man that he is replies, “I think he would just try eating the gift card anyway so there is no way that meathead will remember. I don’t understand why you are trying to dissuade me from wrestling this Sunday, do you honestly think the new flavor of the month can defeat the Suplex Sage?”
Jack takes a hit from his joint and coughs afterwards, “ahem…can you even pick him up?”
“Hmph, I am the taller competitor, I can use that and my amazing leg strength to flip him around on his head,” Steve grabs the joint from Jacks hand and takes a small hit and hands it back to him.
Jack laughs, “yea…I am sure that will hurt him. He speak badder then me.”
Harrison taps his temple with left index finger, “well…I mean anyone can be knocked out if their brain ricochets off their skull enough time.”
“Again…do you think that will hurt him?”
The Miracle Messiah throws his hands up obviously annoyed, “ok, Jack what do you suggest?”
The Jewmaican smiles, “you gotta hit him with the STF, pull that neck back while breaking his leg, mon.”
“You mean my poorly executed STF? That reminds me why haven’t you updated that since Rebecca left?”
“Is it still poorly executed?”
Steve rubs his bald head and shakes his head, “It is good enough.”
Marley nods and blows a smoke ring, “exactly, just go after his legs and weaken his base and then attack like a Komodo Dragon when he is at his weakest and finish him!”
“For real, you have been watching way too much animal planet.”
The doc puts his fingers up, “may I suggest you determine a flaw and then use that to your advantage. He seems to be a man close to a heart attack and I am certain if he eats too much before the match he might go into diabetic shock.”
Harrison’s mouth opens in surprise, “are you saying to wait him out until he dies?”
The Doc shrugs as Jack begins to laugh throw the fog of smoke. “Ok, all of you get out of here, this is not helping at all!” Harrison points to door and they both walk towards it and exit leaving Steve by himself. He walks to the small fridge inside the room and pulls another beer out of it. We are in trashy Orlando so of course it is just a Bud Light. He opens it and tosses the cap towards the broken bottle from earlier.
He takes a big sip. “This is ridiculous why should the great Steve Harrison be wary of some grunting neanderthal? I know he wants to crush his enemies. See them driven before you. And to hear the lamentations of their women, but I will not allow chubby Conan to just get his way against me inside the ring. I am not an animal for you to slay and put over a fire pit, STRONK. I am a vicious bastard that has no problem leaving you unable to use your legs if that is what it takes to leave that ring a double champion. “
Steve sighs and takes another gulp of that crappy watered down beer. It sure ain’t no, less crappy PBR. “That idiot flunky of mine and that insane doctor made a few good points, but I am the LSD Champion, the greatest Tag Team Wrestler of 2021, and The Miracle Man of HOW…I can figure YOU out.”
Harrison walks over to the porch at his hotel walking around a few broken pieces of glass and looks out at the bright sun. “If the sun can still shine bright in this depressing state, then I sure as can move around the eclipse I am facing and take him down to the mat and put my elbows to work. I will leave STRONK bloody. Look at me! I have stitches that have just been taken out in my head and I have a scar on my knee that will never go away.” Harrison smacks both of his cheeks to get himself excited, “I am not a quitter and if I have to bleed again or up the dosage again…I fucking will to achieve this victory.”
He finishes the beer and places it on the ground as the scene fades.