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EXT. MANHATTAN BEACH, CA – DAY Halftime, OSU/Michigan. Those Midwestern red states think it matters more what happens today then a couple days after new years. Those overly optimistic think they’ll even get a rematch of today’s big game a few short days after New Years. They’re wrong. Fight on you might Trojans. Do O.J. proud. Jeffery Drake leans against his balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It’s unseasonably warm in Southern California in the middle of November. Eighty-five and rising, once the marine layer clears out at about eleven. You care about all of this. Jeffery Drake: Let’s make this quick. He looks down at his watch. Jeffery Drake: And let’s be serious for just a moment. There is no room for willing suspension of disbelief when you’re drowning in reality. Yeah. Let me say that again.
Jeffery Drake: There is no room for willing suspension of disbelief when you’re drowning in reality. Drake keeps an eye on the actions of what’s happening behind the camerawoman, back inside his house. Jeffery Drake: You won’t have heard this before – or at least heard it from the true originator of the phrase used in the correct context. But this – right here – this is the beginning of forever. And nothing else. I don’t mean this situation, your circumstance, our match – I don’t mean any of that. This – me – I – am the beginning of forever. NO ONE expect any less from my family. Ask around.
Jeffery Drake: But you’re out in the woods, some thick forest looking for answers that a simple genealogical chart or a five dollar palm-reader at your local strip mall could give you. He leans back against his balcony; the beach is mildly packed for the week before Thanksgiving. Jeffery Drake: Out in the woods with a camera crew no less – sharing with us, your peers and the fans of the CWA your most inner-embarrassments – your most cherished memories. Here’s a clue for you, no charge. When you find something that means everything to you – keep it to yourself. Keep the memory, lock it up and don’t share it with anyone but those you love most. You don’t love me. Don’t flash visions you had while tripping on some random mushroom lick to me. I see enough crazy hobos walking the streets of Santa Monica on a Friday night.
Jeffery Drake: You’re wrestling me. You’re wrestling Jeffery motherfuckin’ Drake. I keep repeating that this it the greatest gift, the greatest opportunity you’ll ever receive here in our tired old community – and you’re playing Taboo out with Hansel, Gretel and the wicked witch of the northeast? That’s your answer, that’s how you thank this association’s executive board for their kind gesture in your debut match? Bullshit. He’s not so much upset as he is impatient. Jeffery Drake: I won’t hide my disdain for them, the executive board. And I sure as hell don’t mind if I voice it aloud even if they’re NEVER LISTENING to anything I say. But you’re the rookie around here and your non-professional conduct is going to do nothing but actually hurt my reputation in the end. After I beat you, in let’s say about four minutes – and then you go on to quit because we’re either unfair, biased or below your high demand level of respectability – what does my victory here mean? Not much. I need you to lose to me and then go on and beat eighteen straight people – earn your rematch against then World Heavyweight Champion Jeffery Drake – and promptly lose again. Little known fact, Jeffery Drake created the cocky grin eight years ago. Jeffery Drake: What’s your ghost of a father going to think about that? How is your new reunion with him going to be like? He’s already questioning your sexuality in the back of his head, just like everyone else in my family – what’s he going to think when you leave Rochester bloody and broken? Was that worth your waltz in the woods? He checks his watch again and takes a deep breath. Jeffery Drake: If I were you, and thank the Lord that I’m not, I would have waited until Thanksgiving, a day after our match to reunite. I mean, what happens if I beat you so bad that your newly reunited father/daughter team has no choice but to split up again and not see each other for another ten years? Can you handle that? Or are you off with your camera crew to some other black water town where someone can mix some potions Zelda-style and let you see those lost in your past?
Jeffery Drake: I’m so damn good; my hero’s suplex could break your un-born daughter’s back before your first ultrasound. My suicide swan dive is so damn great; it would make your father rediscover his meth addiction cause that would be an easier route to take in death then facing a champion like me. My wit could make your fallen mother’s voice spit blood. My beauty could make your future husband a switch-hitter, not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m that damn good. Jeffery Drake cracks a smile. His pearly whites probably would blind you if you’re sitting too close to your monitor. Jeffery Drake: It seems more and more likely to me that you’re just talking for the sake of talking. Just so people don’t look at our match as purely Jeffery Drake versus some dumb skank – but Jeffery Drake versus some dumb loquacious skank. You may think it would be easy to flip that and turn the line against me who seems to rant and rave with no real point. But don’t be an idiot, don’t lower yourself below Kyle Malone’s mime-level – I’m spitting logic like it’s going out of style.
Jeffery Drake: Now let’s assume you can have a enlightening in the next five or so days and can accept what you’re up against – as unlikely as that seems based on your brain capacity. My family, we put together this little independent card – you haven’t hear about it – but we recently celebrated our ninth anniversary. And number eight is on our plate. Of course you won’t have a match against me at it – I actually want people to purchase the pay-per-view and be entertained – I’m not in the snuff film market. Anymore at least. Eight’s going to be great. You don’t screw up that badly next week – we’ll shoot you an invitation. I use the term “invitation” loosely, you don’t accept the invitation to our prestigious event – you’d be brain dead – and we already sent an invitation out to Styx, so he has that “brain dead” area covered. Someone from inside the residence motions for him to hurry up. Jeffery Drake: Maybe all of that is assuming too much. Maybe you’re just too content with assuming your success elsewhere will be enough next week. Whatever. I can’t say much more. I’ll part you with this.
Jeffery Drake: Wake up. Please. Wake up. I’m Jeffery Drake. This isn’t a joke, this isn’t a vision. I’m Jeffery Drake. I stopped losing in t-ball. This Wednesday won’t be an exception.
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