JUST GOOGLE IT
Back from commercial and we go to the ring.
No fanfare. No music. No grandiose smugness.
Just Ned Reform, standing in the middle of the ring. He is not dressed to compete, but he does hold a mic. Currently, he shakes his head in annoyance as he waits for the New Orleans crowd to stop booing him.
Nick Stuart: Ladies and gentlemen, while we were backstage, Ned Reform made his way out here and commandeered a mic. We’ve seen him be… well, not quite himself as of late… in fact, he’s been on a bit of a spiral since his loss to Great SCOTT at the PWA Event weeks ago.
Richard Parker: The man is clearly going through it… and yet, this crowd doesn’t seem to have a ton of sympathy.
The boos continue, and although The Good Doctor maintains what could best be called “sad eyes,” he’s also clearly growing impatient as he marches around the ring.
Ned Reform: …are you quite finished?
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Nick Stuart: I guess not.
Ned leans against the top rope, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Amongst the people, a chant begins… small at first but quickly growing in strength…
“DOC – TOR – DICK – HEAD!” (clap, clap, clap clap clap)
“DOC – TOR – DICK – HEAD!” (clap, clap, clap clap clap)
“DOC – TOR – DICK – HEAD!” (clap, clap, clap clap clap)
Reform keeps his face strategically emotionless in the face of this chant. Continuing to lean over the top rope, he lazily brings the mic to his lips.
Ned Reform: Classy as always, New Orleans.
Before the fans can even begin to boo, he continues, trying to break their momentum.
Ned Reform: But that’s just who you are, isn’t it? Vulgar. Abrasive. Defiant. Likely intoxicated. And nobody knows New Orleans better than Dr. Ned Reform. For the past two years, I have driven myself to the brink of good sense… some may even argue of SANITY… trying to convince you ingrates that it was worth it to better yourself. I have even lived among the rat and puke infested vermin of this city, despite my better judgment. And what do I have to show for this unwavering commitment to your wellbeing?
Reform’s face darkens. He pushes off the top rope, stomping to the middle of the ring and continuing to pace around the ring as he speaks.
Ned Reform: Nothing. Unless, of course, you count an elevated blood pressure, a constant stream of anxiety, and a spirit to do good that has been utterly and completely crushed under your heels. Well… after two years of back breaking labor and very little to show for it, I have reached a conclusion that should have dawned on me months ago…
Reform stops pacing. Sighs. Looks directly into the camera.
Ned Reform: This is no longer worth it.
He becomes animated again. Throwing up a single finger and resuming a vigorously paced march.
Ned Reform: NOW! I know what many of you are likely saying. Using your admittingly limited powers of reason, you’re drawing the conclusion that this is simply a reaction to a string of losses. As if I am a toddler throwing a tantrum for attention. And while yes, it is true that I have recently suffered a series of setbacks in the ring… to those brutes from HOW, to the betrayal from Mr. Cole, to Darren whats-his-name, to recently losing a championship in another promotion with which my name had become synonymous…
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
The people didn’t like that last one. If you know, you know.
Ned Reform: But this is not about a win/loss record. This is deeper. Systemic. This is about a man who dared to be different… who tried to do some good… but ultimately was eaten alive by a cruel, heartless, and evil machine. You see, two days ago I tendered my resignation at that OTHER pissant company… and tonight, right here, in front of the world and the cesspool that is New Orleans…
Reform again stops his march, and again looks right into the camera.
Ned Reform: …I quit. I quit PRIME, I quit professional wrestling, and I quit all of you.
Nick Stuart: Wow!
Richard Parker: This is a sad display. What have we done to this man?
Ned Reform: How fitting the end should come here. Anyway, you’ve all done it. You’ve broken down a good man. Congratulations, but you won’t have Doctor Ned Reform to kick around anymore. I no longer care what you do… spend the rest of the night killing your brain cells… when the show is over head over to Ballyhoo Brew and kill what’s left… return home to your unattractive and simpleton families… it is no longer my concern.
A smile.
Ned Reform: Goodbye.
Is this it? Is this really the last few seconds that we will ever see Ned Reform in a PRIME ring?
Abruptly, an electric guitar strum blasts through the PA, the lead in to an upbeat tune. It is the song that Michael Stipe once coined as his biggest regret during his time with R.E.M. Michael Stipe is an asshole, because this song rocks.
Walking through the curtain comes a man who you knew wouldn’t just let Ned Reform walk away without a proper goodbye. As “Shiny Happy People” continues to play, Abe the Babe Lipschitz walks out to the ring, wagging his finger in Ned’s direction.
Nick Stuart: I think we’ve got someone who isn’t content with Reform simply walking out on their bitter rivalry, Rich!
Richard Parker: What rivalry? Ned’s barely even acknowledged his existence! This kid is a pest.
Keeping up with tradition, Ned continues to barely acknowledge Abe’s existence as the flamboyant youngster stops to pan for the camera, pulling his shirt down to let the viewing audience get a closer look at it. He’s cleverly positioned next to a fan at the guardrail holding up a “#AbeWearsShirts #WhatsAbeWearing” sign. Today, it’s a gold “LION BLING” tee, featuring the cartoon versions of Simba, Timon, and Pumbaa flexing various pieces of jewelry and stacks of money.
Nick Stuart: Word is that SELMA and Miserée could not be here in New Orleans due to a charity appearance where they’re representing PRIME. I guess Abe finally got his opportunity to pick his own entrance theme.
Richard Parker: Who decided it would be a good idea to send those two out to a charity event? What cause are they raising money for? People who are too satisfied with their lives?
Finally rolling in the ring, Abe asks Ned for the microphone. Reform of course does not oblige, simply crossing his arms at his chest and holding it between his elbow crevice.
This doesn’t stop Abe, though. He simply awkwardly leans in and talks directly into his titty.
Abe Lipschitz: Goodbye?
He cranes his neck up to look at his nemesis. Ned glances down at him, gives a quick nod, and then redirects his focus to the curtain.
Abe Lipschitz: Goodbye?
Ned, now growing irritated, takes the mic and shoves it into Abe’s chest. He starts to make his way slowly out of the ring, pretty much done with his bull shit. Seeing his fleeting hopes of the beginning of his five year plan about to walk away, Abe immediately resorts to a failsafe tactic to convince Ned to change his mind.
Abe Lipschitz: Well, I guess you must just be…CHICKEN! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOK bok bok bok bok BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK bok bok bok…
The PRIMEates begin to chant along with the catcall as Lipschitz adds theatrics, cock-strutting and pretending to peck at the turnbuckle. Ned stops, takes a quick look back, and simply smirks. He mouths to Abe “I guess I am,” then ducks between the top and middle rope to continue his exit. Realizing that this approach isn’t going to work, the Babe changes course.
Abe Lipschitz: Wai-wai-wai-wai-wai-wait. Listen, Ned. If you walk out on me, walk out on ALL of this, then how are you going to support your family? Unless, you know…maybe ol’ Abe will need to come over and not only satisfy Mrs. Reform’s financial needs…
Ned, who is now in the aisleway, turns once again and casts his antagonist a sour look – a warning with his eyes that he doesn’t need to go where he thinks he’s about to.
Abe Lipschitz: …but her SMOOCHIN’ NEEDS as well! Ah-MUAH MUAH MUAH MUAH MUAH!
Needless to say, Abe provides an exaggerated pucker of his lips (much like a camel) to accompany the sound effects. At first, it looks like Ned is just about to spin on his heels and head back toward the ring – but he instead just shakes his head and continues his walk to the back. Dejected but determined, Abe runs with microphone still in hand and launches himself over the top rope as if he’d just eliminated himself from a battle royal. Like a cat, he lands on his feet and gives chase to the retreating Doctor.
Abe Lipschitz: I don’t know what you think you’re gonna do, Ned! Are you really going to go back to being a professor? Well, guess what? No one needs to go to college, as they can just GOOGLE whatever they need to learn!
Out of all of the things said tonight, this was it. This is what stopped Reform in his tracks as he turns to face Lipschitz in an intense staredown. The redness in his eyes sparked the heat in Abe’s. Finally, there was some fucking DRAMA to really make Ned second-guess his decision to leave. He’d insulted the hallowed halls of an educational institution. That was the last straw.
Abe Lipschitz: And you stink!
Well, another twig into the flames wouldn’t hurt.
Ned snatches the microphone from Abe’s hands, glaring at him as he moves it up to his lips.
Ned Reform: I’m…not…doing it.
Pie-facing Lipschitz, Reform turns around once again and makes his final boarding call into the back, leaving Abe scratching his head and wondering what he was going to do now.