DICTATED, BUT NOT READ
We cut from the latest events in the saga of Eddie Cross into a pre-taped vignette, evident by the EARLIER TODAY chyron in the top right.
Our scene: a simple table draped with PRIME logos. Behind it, a chair. On top of the table, a microphone.
Shot from straight on, we can see the backs of some people we have to assume are journalists, or because it’s pro wrestling maybe “journalists.” There is a light thrum of whispered anticipation and wondering.
“I said ‘kiss me, you’re beautiful’
These are truly the last days'”
In the arena as the video plays on the PRIME*Tron, there is only one reaction to this cue.
WHOOOOOOOO!
No one in the room remarks upon how strange it is to play walk-out music for a press conference. The C&C guitars play at a frankly elevator music-esque volume for another second and…
WHOOOOOOOO!
The cheer rises, and then ends in….a question mark?
He sits down at the table, the cameras framing that pursed jaw, the jet black hair, the designer sunglasses, the obnoxious athleisure. It’s all there, except…
“Hey, you’re not Chandler Tsonda.”
Right. That. The voice of one of the assembled journalists says the obvious thing: this is a totally different guy.
Handsome, athletic build, Asian-American, real jock energy, but absolutely not Chandler Tsonda. Of note is an AirPod in his left ear.
The man at the podium cocks his head to one side.
“Chandler Tsonda”: Of course I am. You wanna see my driver’s license?
Journalist #1: Respectfully, you aren’t, and I do.
“Chandler Tsonda”: (ignoring the comment) I have a statement that I’d like to read, and then I’ll take questions from everyone except this guy.
This leaves the room with a bizarre vibe and the journalists, many of whom are looking at each other with what we assume are total WTF faces, just watch as the Doppeltsonda reads from a sheet of paper. He has all the authenticity of a guy reading his lines for the first time.
“Chandler Tsonda”: Good afternoon, pimps (gender neutral). It is I, Chandler Tsonda, having a very normal one, and here to fulfill my responsibility to the incredible PRIME fans, and my obligation to Lindsay Troy and the excellent people who make this company run.
The Doppeltsonda looks as if he may be struggling to read behind the thick, dark sunglasses. But he continues.
“Chandler Tsonda”: The last you saw of me was Paxton Ray, an underhanded dick and, even worse, a lousy draw, putting the boots to me like the first day of kickball season. Though my body is ailing, my spirit is not broken. I stand before you here today as the model, nay….The Model Citizen, of resilience.
Doppeltsonda does a weird little finger point to the wrong place, then realizes where the actual camera is, and redirects his finger point so that he’s face to camera.
“Chandler Tsonda”: To all the Tsuperstars out there, I want you to know that if you’re hurt, or embarrassed, or bullied, what we owe each other is to get back on that horse. And that’s why I’m here today, to show I won’t hide my head. I won’t tuck my tail and run. So I’ll have some just desserts for that Lafayette pig shit soon enough. But for now: (pumping fist in the air) I’m still standing. I’m still strong!
Journalist #1: Did you just plagiarize the 2002 film Antwone Fisher?
“Chandler Tsonda”: (taps AirPod) …No?
Journalist #1: Is that a question?
“Chandler Tsonda”: Call the guy Tucker Carlson and tell him you’re only interested in real journalists. Democracy dies in darkness, something like that.
An incredibly awkward pause ensues. It is clear that Doppeltsonda is reciting lines, presumably ones coming over that left Airpod.
“Chandler Tsonda”: That is to say, uhhhh, go do your little song and dance for Elon, Tucker Carlson. Democracy dies in darkness. U-S-A! U-S-A!
No one else chants with Doppeltsonda.
“Chandler Tsonda”: Next question.
And who wouldn’t want to ask a question to an obvious fake? Another person tries a different tack.
Journalist #2: I guess I’ll give this a shot. I imagine that it would’ve been a real storybook comeback moment for Chandler to contend for a shot at the Universal Title in his hometown of San Diego. Can you ask him his state of mind about what’s next?
“Chandler Tsonda”: (incredulous) Ask who?
Journalist #2: Oh c’mon.
“Chandler Tsonda”: You want to ask me, Chandler Tsonda, that question directly?
Journalist #2: We’re really doing this? You’re clearly on the phone with Chandler Tsonda.
“Chandler Tsonda”: (points to ear) I’m listening to a podcast about the history of Juneteenth. Oh, the white mainstream media wants me to silence the voice of black liberation, and the building of a more just society?! Well, I won’t take it. Abolish the policeman in your head, and abolish the policing of my ears. The AirPod stays, Jefferson Davis.
Journalist #2: I don’t even…(sighs) ok Chandler Tsonda, what’s your state of mind, given all the things I mentioned?
“Chandler Tsonda”: Thank you for asking me that question. As a native son of Southern California, a born-and-bred Padre, a dyed-in-the-wool San Diegan, I’m hurting about missing the Tropical Turmoil match. Anybody who knows me knows I didn’t come back to take L’s. But I did, and I’ve got to face it like a man, and take accountability for my results in the ring.
None of the assembled media seem to have the desire, or perhaps the patience, to point out the on-its-face farce occurring.
“Chandler Tsonda”: But I will be addressing Paxton Roy (taps earpiece), sorry, Paxton Ray tonight face-to-face. This shit ain’t over. Next question.
Journalist #3: Ok, why isn’t Chandler Tsonda here tonight?
The Not Sultan of Style looks visibly annoyed, but seems to know a losing battle when he sees one. He answers the question as if it’s been directed at him, not about him.
“Chandler Tsonda”: I came here tonight to show everyone that I’m doing fine! Better than fine, really great. I’m not injured, I’m not embarrassed, I’m not having an existential crisis about what my life means if I can’t compete at a high level in the ring anymore. Natch.
One final brave soul ventures to play this strangest of games.
Journalist #4: Should we expect to see, um, the original recipe Chandler Tsonda at Tropical Turmoil? Is he coming back to PRIME?
A long silence ensues. There are evidently a lot of words coming fast and furious over the airwaves to the Tstunt double, who maybe isn’t being paid enough to improvise. He just puts on a dumb, handsome guy smile and speaks directly into the camera.
“Chandler Tsonda”: I have no fucking clue. Hey, you guys know where to get my parking validated?
That’s the end of that. We then cut back to ringside.