[Slowly, we fade in to the lavishly decorated apartment of Spiros the Great. Spiros is sitting at the table in his kitchen, his hands clasped in front of him.]
“Another week, another disappointment.”
[He shakes his head slowly.]
“More empty threats unfulfilled. More pointless boasts fallen by the wayside. Seriously, you’d think that by now, Ken would have learned to just shut the fuck up and accept his role in the OSW. But still, he keeps talking. And talking. And talking. Like a fuckin’ yapping dog, irritating anyone who can be bothered listening. ‘Lessons’ this and ‘humble’ that. Yeah, Spiros gets it, you used to be a Karate Teacher. But guess what?”
[He leans a little closer to the camera, his voice lowering.]
“No-one gives a shit.”
[He leans back, the wooden chair creaking slightly.]
“Despite all your fuckin’ talkin’. Despite you not pickin’ up a win.. [His hands involuntarily clench into fists] You’re still fuckin’ talkin’. Again. And so another disappointing chapter is written in the story. Frustration heaped on frustration with yet another credibility-shattering loss [He shakes his head again] But still, inexplicably, you keep talkin’.”
[His eyes narrow.]
“You cling to your former glories, Ken. Your little dojo of losers. The whole ‘Master’ thing. But as we all know, wrestling fans, wrestling promoters – hell, wrestlers themselves – are a pretty fickle bunch. Yeah, you may have been something back then. But in most people’s short-term memories, you’re no better than below average. A fuckin’ loser.”
[He rolls his eyes.]
“And see, Spiros has no problem with that. There’s a lot of below average wrestlers on the OSW roster. A lot of guys who know their spot on the card and thrive there. It’s guys like that who make the wrestling world go around. Dependable hands. Guys you can count on for a solid mid-card performance. But the problem Spiros has with you Ken is that you don’t seem to realize just where you stand in the grand scheme of things. You walk around the locker room with your chest puffed out and that sneer of contempt on your face like you’re somehow better than the rest of us. Talking your endless shit about how you’re going to teach everyone a fuckin’ lesson.”
[Yet again, Spiros shakes his head.]
“You cling to whatever small successes you can get your hands on to make yourself feel relevant, even if they’re years ago in a fuckin’ dojo no-one has ever heard of. You circle the shallow water, feeding on the nobodies – and even they beat you. So occasionally you’ll swim a little deeper and manage to find a bigger fish like Spiros the Great. And that gives you the rush you need to keep going. To keep swimming. So you swim a little deeper… and a little deeper…”
[He fixes the camera with an ice-cold stare.]
“And before you know it, you’re completely out of your depth.”
[He holds the stare for a few seconds, his pale blue eyes sparkling with intensity, before continuing.]
“At Bad Company, there’s no way back, Kenneth.”
[Spiros takes off his glasses.]
“You’ve swam too far.”
[He smirks.]
“Come get some.”