
DOLLAR GENERAL VILLAIN
We go from the commercial break to the backstage area where Simon Tillier is standing by with Dave Gibson and Eddie Cross. Dave is standing slightly behind Eddie, letting his student take the lead. Even at 6’4” Eddie towers over Simon and outweighs him by a solid fifty pounds. Before Simon can get a word out, Eddie holds up a hand to cut him off.
Eddie Cross: I was wondering if I’d run into you before our match. I gotta admit, in person, you’re really not all that impressive. I guess your mouth really is the biggest part of you.
Simon Tillier: What are you talking about Eddie?
Eddie Cross: Look in the mirror, you Wish.com Mystic Mac. Come to think of it, Wish.com might be a little too high end for you, we might have to go straight to Dollar General for this one.
Simon looks genuinely confused by what is happening at the moment.
Simon Tillier: Eddie, I’m not…
Dave Gibson: Eddie, this is that kid that Rezin is always busting balls on. Simon uh…Til…a….Tiller sumthin.
Simon Tillier: It’s Tillier.
Eddie looks back at Dave and pulls his gaming glasses off for a minute. His toxic emerald eyes shine in the lighting.
Eddie Cross: Whatever your name is, do you really think you have a chance in this match?
Simon Tillier: Is this one of those things you Samoan guys do where I say something and then you tell me it doesn’t matter what I think?
Eddie raises a brow.
Eddie Cross: What are you talking about? Nobody I know of does that. I’m talking about the fact that we are in two completely different weight classes. Look at me, then look at you. I know Bruce Lee says “size doesn’t matter,” but eschewing tasteless jokes, it really does in this business. That’s why Ivan is out here throwing people around like grenades in Warzone.
Simon Tillier: I told you, I’m not…
Eddie holds a hand up and Simon stops point blank.
Eddie Cross: Are you trying to tell me you’re not Tyler Best?
Simon nods.
Eddie Cross: You’re going to stand there at all five foot nine of you with your Men’s Wearhouse suit hiding a leprechaun green pair of kneepads and a Romex watch and pretend I don’t know who you are?
Simon Tillier: That’s what I am…
Eddie Cross: You are really going to make the earth tremble weighing a buck fifty sopping wet with your stupid chest tattoo that’s going to look like the wings are flapping when your man boobs are flying around in the ring at age 45 and tell me you aren’t named after discount diet cola?
Simon Tillier: That’s what I am trying to say.
Eddie Cross: So your company bio pic doesn’t look like a cell shaded Crank Yankers character?
Simon Tillier: No. Eddie, I…
Eddie smiles and claps Simon on the shoulder.
Eddie Cross: Alright, I get it. I wouldn’t want to admit it either if I were in your shoes. I’m kidding! The truth is, I know exactly who you are, and I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me tonight.
Simon Tillier: I swear to god if you make a Christmas Story joke…
Eddie Cross: Come on, Simon. Lighten up! After all, here we are at the Amalie Arena in sunny Tampa Bay, Florida!
RAAAAAAA!
Dave smirks, Eddie beams. Simon looks visibly annoyed now.
Eddie Cross: Home of the Lightning! Home of The Buccaneers! Home of The G.O.A.T.! Well, for a little bit longer anyhow. Really, like the rest of Florida, it’s more of a retirement home for him.
BOOOO!
Say, speaking of people getting championship opportunities they don’t deserve, Simon, would you say winning a championship while ring chasing as a mercenary feels a bit like wearing someone else’s underwear?
Simon Tillier: Well I…
Eddie Cross: What am I saying, you don’t bother with underwear do you? Of course you don’t. That’s how I knew you weren’t really Tyler Best, you aren’t rocking those maximum absorbency granny panties. Or are they Bed, Bath and Beyond terry cloth mom shorts? I don’t know how he expects anyone to not laugh looking like a disgruntled John Stockton with them pulled all the way up to his nipples.
Simon is unflappable in an interview, and straight faces Eddie’s joke even as the crowd gets noisier.
Simon Tillier: Can we be serious? I would love to get your actual thoughts on the match.
Eddie Cross: Sure, low hanging juvenile jokes about what a person looks like and their name isn’t really my style anyhow. Now let’s see…
Eddie wrings his hands like he has seen Dave do a thousand times when studying tape. His venomous eyes take on a devilish look all of a sudden.
Eddie Cross: I like to deal with reality, so let’s talk about that for a minute. The reality is that all the talk in the world is just talk. A person’s mouth can’t step into the ring for them and win a match. If it could, Cancer Jiles would still be the champion. I just wanted to show that anybody in this game can make immature jokes and claim whatever they want, but it’s hardly an indicator of talent. The time will come very shortly when he has to back it all up, and I don’t think he can.
Eddie points his finger toward Simon and then the camera, purposely driving his points home with the motion.
Eddie Cross: The fact is we are in PRIME now, Tyler. You can’t hide behind your name. You can’t hide behind your colors. You can’t even run to Lindsay Troy because she is going to tell you to go do it yourself. I made a mistake and gave you too much respect. I can see that now. But the thing is, you made one thing abundantly clear to me: You don’t respect me, and you don’t respect who I am and what I can do. That’s why you’re going to learn tonight that I don’t lie down and when you’re wondering how you just lost to a “kid” who you have no respect for… you’ll never see it coming.
Eddie puts his glasses back on and walks away, leaving Dave and Simon standing by. Gibson nods and shakes Simon’s hand.
Dave Gibson: Nice interview kid, you’re gonna do OK in the business for a long time if you keep that up.
Simon Tillier: Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.
Dave nods respectfully and walks away following his student as the feed cuts to elsewhere in the backstage area.