Disco music blares as bright colors swirl on our screen. C.J. Thorpe comes dancing in, juking and jiving.
“Owww, have mercy! It’s your one and only, the man of the hour, the tower of power, C.J. Thorpe, baby! And I’m here to talk about a challenge unlike any other, man. I’m talkin’ about facing off against the slickest father-son tag team in the business – The Pool Boys!”
He pauses, as if to react to an imaginary crowd.
“Well, you see, man, while you two have been busy dipping your toes, I’ve been swimming in the deep end. And the only thing you’re gonna be cleaning up… is the mat, after I wipe it with you!”
He throws up a peace sign.
“So remember, Pool Boys, I’m bringing the party, I’m bringing the love, and most importantly, I’m…”
Thorpe trails off, his mouth agape in awe as another C.J. Thorpe is here? Wearing a Wanted shirt with his face on it, this Thorpe is intense.
“Listen up, Pool Boys. You two think you can just wade into my world? Well, let me tell you something, boys, you’ve just stepped into the deep end of this pool, and there ain’t no lifeguard on duty.”
This Thorpe’s voice is gravelly, each word dripping with menace.
“I’ve fought in alleys, I’ve bled in barbed wire, and I’ve danced with death more times than you’ve had hot dinners.”
He picks up a barbed wire bat, running his hand along it.
“This ain’t going to be a clean fight. It’s going to be messy. It’s going to be brutal. I’m about to turn that ring into a pool of your own blood. And when I’m done, you’ll be nothing more than a couple of wet spots on the canvas. Bang Bang!”
A creepy laugh knocks C.J. out of his moment, and both Thorpes look around until they find the source. Rocking in the floor, is another C.J. Thorpe, this one wearing a shredded shirt and tie, and a mask.
“I can’t help but wonder, dear Pool Boys… have you ever felt so alone you wished for death?”
He gently pets a sock puppet on his hand.
“I want you to understand, this isn’t about malice. No, it’s about enlightenment. It’s about showing you the contrast between your Pool, and the abyssal depths where I dwell.”
His tone shifts, a mix of whimsy and dark foreboding.
“I want to invite you to my world, a place where death is begged for, where family is but a memory, and where the creatures… well, they’re just like me.”
He holds up the sock bringing it close to his masked face.
“Mr. Socko here, he’s quite eager to meet you, to introduce you to a realm where the water isn’t just wet… it’s alive.”
His laughter is soft but haunting.
“So, bring your goggles, because you’re about to be submerged in a world of pain. And when it’s over, when you’re gasping for air, just remember… down here… we don’t swim, we survive.”
All three C.J. Thorpe’s laugh in their own creepy way.
“Have a nice day!”