DOPPEL DEALING
Coming back from commercial, you can still hear the crowd buzzing from the Ellis/TCG showdown. We are no longer at ringside, but continuing in the proud and noble tradition of Stuff Happening Backstage.
This specific stuff has a soundtrack.
WHOOOOOOO!
Well, that cue is usually the audio equivalent of “our guy is in the building, baybay!” but there’s a bit of a wrinkle. Hard to put in words, but imagine the entire audience that just cheered doing a big audible shrug. Kind of like….zuhhhh?
Wearing the clothes, having the look, walking the walk, and inhabiting the persona of Chandler Tsonda is….not Chandler Tsonda. ReV 30 watchers know the deal. Noticeably absent is the Airpod through which the real voice of the real Chandler Tsonda once piped.
Doppeltsonda, in a pair of knockoff Chanel shades that with obvious typo of “Channel” on the side, walks towards camera. He stops in front of a door, and the door has a name on it, as doors in PRIME areas are wont to do. That name plate inspires another soundtrack.
BOBBY DEAN
BOOOOOOOO!
The impostor raps at the door. He’s certainly got more swagger than last week, when he fled like a gutless coward from Paxton Ray. He keeps knocking.
Not Chandler Tsonda: Bobby Dean? Open up.
The door suddenly bursts open and there before the imposter stands the largest man in PRIME history. Wearing a silk kimono robe that appears three sizes too small and with a face absolutely covered in what appears to be whipped cream, Bobby Dean greets his guest in a very Mrs. Doubtfire-esque voice.
The Real Bobby Dean: Heeeeeellllloooooooooo!
Not Chandler Tsonda: Um, I believe you have something right here…
The imposter cautiously reaches up to his own face and then motions to its entirety.
The Real Bobby Dean: I’m well aware.
Not Chandler Tsonda: But why?
Bobby looks at his guest with clear confusion on his face.
The Real Bobby Dean: How else does one eat pie?
Not Chandler Tsonda: (looking like he’s been asked a trick question) Fork? With a fork?
The large man shakes his head in bewilderment, as if he’s never heard the word before, but in doing so some of the whipped cream flies off his face, much like a dog coming in from the rain. As the imposter Tsonda flicks a stray clump of cream off his chest Bobby simply turns around and walks into his dressing room, leaving the door open for his soon to be new best friend.
Walking into the locker room with trepidation, as if at any moment something might jump out at him, the imposter Tsonda enters. Meanwhile Bobby Dean, with towel in hand, is busy wiping away his pre-match snack from his cherubic face.
Not Chandler Tsonda: So I’m going to let you in on a little secret.
The Real Bobby Dean: You can’t have the recipe.
Not Chandler Tsonda: I…think I’ll live. But I have to admit: I’m not the real Chandler Tsonda.
Bobby Dean lets out a massive Hollywood-style gasp. A dollop of cream that escaped Bobby’s very haphazard clear job falls from the tip of his three chins.
The Real Bobby Dean: Am I still the real Bobby Dean? Or can I finally be Cancer Jiles?
Not Chandler Tsonda: That’s a real guy? I thought it was an ad for sunglasses. Wait, no, we’re getting distracted. I’ve come clean. I’m actually a hired gun. So the ball’s in your court.
The Real Bobby Dean: Wait, the gun’s in my court? IS THIS A STICKUP?
Not Chandler Tsonda: I’m a pacifist.
The Real Bobby Dean: I’ve seen those videos on the internet, it doesn’t look comfortable. But hey, I don’t judge.
The plot is being lost. Doppeltsonda puts his hands up, as if to keep us, all of us, back on track. But Bobby cannot stop looking at his hands as if he suddenly feels very uncomfortable.
Not Chandler Tsonda: What I came here to say, Mr. Dean, is I’ve got proposal for you. The real Chandler Tsonda, that guy ain’t showing up. He’s at home wimping out, and from what I’ve been told, he’s afraid to show his face. So this presents a golden opportunity for you and me. A classic tit for tat.
Bobby Dean nods along. And then he looks down his nose…at his own chest. And then Doppeltsonda follows his eyes. They both stare at Bobby Dean’s ample bosom.
Not Chandler Tsonda: No, not like that. I mean, it’s a win-win. I want to keep playing the role of Chandler Tsonda, and you want to get a big supershow win. And the best thing for getting MY face out there, is for Chandler Tsonda to keep up this freakin’ embarrassing win streak. Get on First Take for being a total dumpster fire. Be a sad Tiktok meme that someone puts “My Immortal” over. So, I’m here to ask you if you’re interested, ya know, in an arrangement.
Bobby takes a step away.
Not Chandler Tsonda: I’m willing to lay down for you. For a price. And I’ll even…what are you doing?
The Real Bobby Dean: (holding a pair of pants upside down and shaking out the pockets) Looking for loose change.
Not Chandler Tsonda: Are those even your pants?
The Real Bobby Dean: Uhm, if I say yes, will you believe me?
Doppeltsonda is nearly speechless as Bobby Dean continues rifling through other clothing. It is, in fact, alarming how much extra clothing there is in Bobby Dean’s dressing room. There is an impressive small fortune of change, and several Chuck E. Cheese tokens, covering the floor when the ritual is done.
The Real Bobby Dean: (holding up two fistfuls of assorted change) You like what you see?
Not Chandler Tsonda: Now we’re talking.
The imposter reaches out to take the money, but seeing the incoming hand causes Bobby a moment of panic as he suddenly remembers what Doppletsonda likes to do in his spare time.
And that, for now, is that.
We then cut to ringside.