SHEMANNEQUINS

ReVival 11 cuts backstage, where the beaming, professional face of PRIME’s most well-regarded interviewer is standing by. Angelica Brooks stands with a microphone to her face. 

Angelica Brooks: Ladies and gentlemen, with me at this time… the Winds of Change.

The camera zooms out, and standing out in the hallway outside of the locker rooms are the three members of the new generation Winds of Change. Joe Fontaine, wearing a suit several months past due on St. Patrick’s Day, has the expression of a man who can’t contain his excitement. Next to him is Sid Phillips, who for once in his life is dressed in normal street clothes and not the clothes of a man who powerbombs people for a living.

And on the other side of Angie stands Baron von Blackberry. The Devil Fruit incarnate, dressed as he usually is in his blackberry mask, his lab coat, and his total lack of a shirt.

Angie considers her options on which of these freaks of nature to point her microphone towards. Her options are looking very, very bleak. Eventually, she settles on the other one with any sense: Herself. 

Angelica Brooks: At Great American Nightmare, one could say that the Winds of Change performed one of the biggest upsets on the show, by taking down Nova and Garbage Bag Johnny in tag team action. How do you feel after this extraordinary feat?

Baron von Blackberry raises his finger, and in reaction, Angelica points her microphone towards him. Her mistake.

Baron von Blackberry: AHAHAHA! FOOL! I told you all! I made a grand, super grand, grandiose speech about how everyone stands before the hurricane! It was tremendous. I was told that I should receive a medal of honor for my words and deeds on that night. Alas, Lindsay Troy has decreed that I should receive no medals for any words or deeds I performed at Great American Nightmare! How rude! Uh, mind you, she claimed that I “didn’t do anything”. Bah! What does she know? She’s only been a champion in every wrestling promotion that’s ever existed, a few that existed only theoretically, at least three that never existed, a Schrodinger’s Wrestling Promotion that is both alive and dead, and even in a couple in alternate timelines that Anna Daniels has peered into lovingly! She does not know or understand the sacrifices that I have made in the name of SCIENCE! She does not understand the depths of my machinations!

There is a pause, as Blackberry relaxes. Then Sid clears his throat.

Sid Phillips: What our… uh, colleague means to say is that we were awesome and I did a lot of powerbombs.

Joe Fontaine: Yeah! And I dazzled everyone with so many sick moves, it made them all dizzy. They’re still dizzy, I bet! With, like, stars and birds fluttering around their heads. And definitely not because they tried to do a big wrestle while high from that weird giant entrance joint they smoked. I’m allowed to mention that, right? Hey, do you think we got a contact high from all that?

Sid Phillips: They certainly got high when I powerbombed them all those times. High into the air, I mean.

Angelica knows she has to get these idiots back on track, so she follows up this nonsense with her next question.

Angelica Brooks: So, with your victory at Great American Nightmare, you now have an opportunity to challenge for the PRIME Tag Team Championships, newly won by the Kings of Popsicles. And, obviously, Mr. von Blackberry, you have a connection with the new champions. How does that affect your plans for your upcoming match?

Baron von Blackberry: I am, in fact, a senior member of the Kings of Popsicles, yes. And let me tell you, the benefits are quite spectacular. 

Angelica Brooks: I’m almost afraid to ask. What benefits?

Baron von Blackberry: Listen up! I’m only going to explain this once. The best part about being one of the senior members of the Kings of Popsicles is that you get three WHOLE percent off on any purchase of those red, white, and blue popsicles at your local grocery store!

There is a long silence.

Angelica Brooks: You mean, Bomb Pops?

Baron von Blackberry: Yes.

Angelica Brooks: …Are there any other benefits?

Baron von Blackberry: Why, who could ask for more?

Joe Fontaine: Hold on, wait. You’re super shredded, my dude. Do you even eat those things?

Baron von Blackberry: No.

Angie sighs, and decides to immediately change the subject.

Angelica Brooks: Obviously, the Winds of Change have had many run-ins with King Blueberry over the course of Survivor. And, uh… well, his previous tag team partner.

Angelica looks at Joe, significantly.

Joe Fontaine: What?

Baron von Blackberry: She means the mannequin.

Joe briefly cringes at the mention of the dreaded M-word, but he manages to recover and give a big smile in response.

Joe Fontaine: Oh, that? Ahaha, what’s the big worry? I mean, it’s not like the mannequin won the tag titles! That’d be crazy! It was, like, Jared Blueberry’s new lady friend, right? Right. I didn’t catch her name. Rascally Raspberry or something like that? It’ll be fine! We’re going to go to UltraViolence and we’re going to win the titles because Sid’s been upping his game! He’s got a whole new move in his arsenal, ready for all challengers!

Sid looks at Joe like he’s crazy, because he probably is. He holds out a hand to stop Joe from continuing.

Sid Phillips: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. A whole new move? I don’t need something like that. Nobody consulted with me on any new moves. It’s just powerbombs, baby. Hang on. Hang on, one second.

He clears his throat.

Sid Phillips: Let me tell you what the forecast is for the Kings of Popsicles.

Joe Fontaine: You know, I have opinions about meteorology that seem relevant here…

Sid Phillips (ignoring him): You got some clear skies right now. Birds are chirping. Children are playing. Maybe you can do some yard work. All is looking pretty well. But what’s that dark cloud on the horizon? Well, that’s a chance for scattered powerbombs. Your clear skies are going to get dark. Real dark. I’m gonna come flying out of the sky, powerbombing all those rain clouds onto your doorstep. You’d best stay out of the second floor of your house. Because it’s getting powerbombed. You’d best stay away from your windows. Because they’re getting powerbombed. Everything you hold dear in your life? Powerbombed. And the powerbombs won’t stop until we have secured those shiny gold belts you’ve got.

There is another long pause.

Joe Fontaine: …Yeah! Scattered showers, but with a 100 percent chance of powerbombs and bedazzlement! Who’s gonna stop us, huh?

Joe Fontaine may as well be a wizard – a wrestle wizard, even – for he has just summoned fresh hell. Hell on wheels. His question is answered by the sound of casters rolling along the floor. Flying into frame as though he had a rocket strapped to his ass, El Hijo del Senor Cool Guy bursts across the screen. But there is no rocket. Instead, he has been equipped with a pair of rollerblades with a series of sparklers crudely duct-taped to them.

This is how some people in this company think jet propulsion works. Guess which one.

“Wait! Stop!”

Here’s a hint: it’s not the kid in the MGM-branded sweatshirt doing his damndest to keep up with the one-man plastic parade currently careening down the halls. His name is Mark, and until now has been the de facto babysitter for King Blueberry. Despite everything that’s happened in recent weeks, he still has this job. Trust us, it’s better for everyone this way. Everyone except Mark. That boy’s gonna need all the therapy.

Backstage Assistant Mark: (panting) Seriously… I can’t… WHYSOFAST?!

There’s a pause of a few seconds, before a third figure casually walks into frame. She wears a purple half-mask over the top half of her face, and the tight frown of someone who – despite having only been in the role for two weeks – is already very much Over This Shit. With her hands tucked into the front pocket of an oversized sweatshirt, the woman known as Reina Raspberry is in no hurry to catch neither Mark nor mannequin.

She pauses in front of the Winds.

Reina Raspberry: I am so sorry about this, guys. Look, we all know Jared’s kind of an idiot, right? This one’s him. This one’s aaaaaaall him. 

And then, without moving, she turns in the direction that Mark had run off in.

Reina Raspberry: (deadpan) Wait. Stop. Don’t. Come back.

She sighs, the full weight of exactly what she’s signed up for starting to register.

Reina Raspberry: I should probably go deal with this. Mark! It’s plastic on wheels, just wait until the goddamn thing falls over!

By now, both Mark and the son of Super Cool Guy have made their way a good fifty feet away. She makes no real effort to give chance, merely continuing along at the same leisurely pace she maintained thus far.

The camera pans back to Angelica and the Winds of Change, who watch Reina Raspberry disappear off-camera.

Only, there’s a noteworthy absence.

Angelica Brooks: Um, where’s Mr. Fontaine?

Joe, who’d been standing next to Sid this whole time, is nowhere to be found. If you look closely, you might see the dust cloud he’s left in his wake. Sid and Blackberry both turn to see that Joe is gone.

Baron von Blackberry: Huh.

Sid Phillips: …He’s gone.

Baron von Blackberry: Well, I can’t say this was entirely unforeseen. Well played, Jared Blueberry. Well played, again. Once again, you are the Holmes to my Moriarity! The Batman to my Joker! The Dr. House to my lupus! Curse you, Jared Blueberry!

He shakes his fist at the heavens.

Angelica Brooks: Um… okay then. Over to you, Matt.

We cut away with Blackberry still vigorously shaking his fist at the sky.