BLUE AS A BOY CAN BE
Backstage in a conference room, the atmosphere is festive. There is a large banner on the back wall that says “IT’S A BOY!” and a large backdrop across the rest of the wall with sparkly silver sequins and a photo of Elvis. Scott Hunter is standing near a table covered with a sparkly gold tablecloth and a large cake that looks like his very handsome face. Craig Massey is standing nearby, none too impressed.
Come to think of it, the atmosphere is not actually all that festive.
Scott is dressed in what he calls his “party pants”, but they’re slightly acid-washed and just blue jeans, along with an unbuttoned white collared shirt that shows off his muscles like some sort of Chippendale dancer. Craig has a sharp pair of slacks on and a nice blue dress shirt. Scott has a slightly askew, pointed hat on his head and one of those party whistles that extend when you blow. Keep your mind out of the gutter.
Scott Hunter: Craig, this is great! Look how many people have shown up to my celebration!
Craig looks around. There is nobody else in the room.
Scott Hunter: Once again I have done something that no other human being has done. I am UNDEFEATED in November! That means I am officially the November Heavyweight Champion, and that is in the record books forever and ever so don’t be dumb.
Craig Massey: Would it be dumb to point out that it was also your very first win in PRIME?
Scott sticks a very angry finger in Craig’s face.
Scott Hunter: You’ll watch your tone if you know what’s good for you, Craiglet! I have chewed off a person’s fingers for less, and one slightly overweight sea lion named ‘Bobby Dean’, but I still say he deserved it on account of his dumb face and how bad he smelled. Now, do you know what other amazing feat I accomplished this week??
Craig Massey: I have a good feeling I’m about to find out.
Scott smiles proudly.
Scott Hunter: I was just in Germany yesterday celebrating American Thanksgiving with my Germanian friends, and I was able to fly all the way to Memphis in time for tonight’s show. Don’t you think that is impressive?? It happened just like I said it happened, and that is a peer-reviewed fact of life. I’d like to see Brandon Youngblood do something like that with his dumb bald head and offensive back hair.
Scott leans into the camera and whispers.
Scott Hunter: Actually Brandon Youngblood I am just joking about that. I only said it for effect. You are very handsome and talented and also don’t hurt me.
Scott straightens back up.
Scott Hunter: My magical travel feat wasn’t easy, either. I put on my blue suede shoes and I boarded the plane, touched down in the land of the delta blues in the middle of the pouring rain.
A flash of recognition crosses Craig’s face and his eyes narrow.
Scott Hunter: I was walking in Memphis. I was walking with my feet six feet off of Beale. Walking in Memphis. But do I really feel the way I feel?
Scott looks wistfully into the distance. Then, he snaps back and points at Craig again.
Scott Hunter: The answer is yes! I feel exactly the way I feel, which I feel is a feeling that feels natural to someone who feels the way I feel today after such a successful few weeks. You feel me?
Craig makes a ‘waving it off’ motion.
Craig Massey: First of all, those are definitely song lyrics. And second of all, it’s not impressive that you flew in a plane from Germany to Tennessee. They literally fly those planes a thousand times a day. And third, I am very proud of you for getting your first win in PRIME, but this is all going a bit overboard. It’s time to move on and get back to work.
Scott Hunter: What does that even mean?? Get back to work? I can’t get back to work right now! This is a party! Do you even see that sign back there? It’s a boy! How can we work when it’s a boy?!
Craig rubs his temples vigorously.
Craig Massey: Listen, we’ve been treading dangerously close to ‘I’m not getting paid enough for this’ territory again. I said I’d help you, said I would train you and make sure you improved your in-ring skills, but you also have a role in this. He expects regular updates.
Scott Hunter: He? Who is he?
Craig Massey: You know who he is.
Scott Hunter: Do I? Do I know who he is? Are you absolutely sure I know who he is??
Craig Massey: (sneering) YES. I’m absolutely sure you know who he is.
Scott Hunter: Well, do YOU know who he is?
Craig stares at him and suddenly wishes there was a window in this room from which he could leap to his death.
Scott chuckles and places a hand on Craig’s shoulder.
Scott Hunter: I know who he is. I just wanted to see if you’d say who he is. There are people in this building who are watching every second of this, I am pretty sure. And that would be the sort of privileged information that gets a man killed if it were to fall into the wrong hands. Fortunately, you did not say his name because I would have had to kill you.
Scott glares into Craig’s eyes, trying his best to look intimidating, although Craig recognizes it as the same face Scott makes when the nice gentleman at the food truck by his house tells him they are out of churros. Craig just starts shaking his head.
Scott Hunter: Don’t worry, I will not do anything rash. After all, my very good close and personal friend Lindsay Troy has entrusted me with this, the holiest of spots on the show, a little something we like to call ‘the pre-main event event’, which is also a slogan that is on t-shirts I am selling on Temu. Right after we are done here, there is a big match between Cecilwood Farthingstone and Coral Almondine, I think.
Craig Massey: Cecilworth Farthington and Coral Avalon.
Scott Hunter: I’m pretty sure it’s Cecilwood Farthingstone and Coral Almondine.
Craig Massey: It definitely is not.
Scott Hunter: Well, agree to disagree. Either way, only a person who is undefeated in November like I am could possibly be trusted with such a lofty position and also, I am very important whether you believe it or not, so probably shut up. Now, with our festivities concluded, I will now go join my brothers and sister in Vae Victis and feast mine eyes upon the main event.
Craig stares at him for a moment, then just turns and walks away.
Scott Hunter: (blows his party whistle) It’s a boy, indeed.
We then cut to ringside.