“HEY!”
Scott Hunter is sitting on a couch in between two plants that aren’t ferns, but lovely daffodils or maybe sunflowers. I don’t know. I don’t know plants. Either way, he’s sitting right in the middle and his index finger is jutting out at the camera, which is us. There are party balloons attached to the back of the couch.
“You may be asking yourself, why is Scott Hunter on my television right now? Did he win his match last week? No! Bobby the Rotund Walrus cheated by being fat and falling on me, and so I lost, bringing my win-loss record to a perfect 5 and 5! I matched my wins and losses! Who else has been able to do that? No one! That’s who!
Now I’m sure you’d like to know why I would be celebrating such an accomplishment, probably on account of how incredibly dumb you are. But because you are incredibly dumb, whoever you are, I will explain it to you thusly…
Ahem…”
Scott screams at the top of his lungs.
“I LIKE BALLOONS!”
Scott stands up, finger-pointing at us again and with a very serious look on his face.
“But I’ll tell you what I don’t like! I don’t like losing! Did you hear me?! Turn your volume up! I DON’T LIKE LOSING! If you were reading this on paper those words would have been in all caps, because I DON’T LIKE LOSING! I also don’t like the new Wonder Years reboot, but that’s not the topic right now. What I don’t like is the ‘constructive’ feedback I’ve been given regarding my matches.
Apparently, I’m too boring, too vanilla. I don’t even like vanilla so I don’t know what they’re talking about. I wouldn’t mind some Blue Bell right now though. I wonder what Bobby Dean’s record for most Blue Bell at one sitting is. And why are feeding our best ice cream to walruses?!? I digress. Anyway, what does that even mean, too vanilla?? And what in the name of the lady who plays Samantha’s mom on Bewitched is ‘character development’??
I had to learn wrestling better than everyone else and invent a move that breaks legs and now I have to develop character, too?? I don’t want character! I just want to be me. I want to be me so much that if this were a musical, I would sing a song, and it would be called, ‘I just want to be me’, starring me, and I’d win a Tony. But not for developing character! For singing! I once visited Juilliard so you just watch yourself!
Now I may have come up short to Bobby Dean last week… and by short of course, I mean that he is very fat, AND A WALRUS! And also he eats raw fish by slamming his face into a mountain stream. But I’ve got my sights set on something even bigger than Bobby Dean. No, not Jupiter. I would never go to Jupiter. Too much gas. Like Bobby Dean! No, I’m talking about the World Tag Team Titles!! I’ve never even had a partner for teaming let alone tagging, but all I know is there is a belt! And gold! And those weird Italian musicians who are definitely NOT Mario and Luigi!”
Hunter places his hands on his hips.
“So over the next few weeks, I will be looking for the perfect tag team partner, and I will challenge the Amazing Armadillos for the tag team championship of the entire world, and I will prevail! And furthermore, since it seems to be so important, I am showing you lots of interesting inanimate objects…”
Scott walks off-screen and then pulls a table into the frame with various items on it.
“Here, a musket from the American Revolution! And here! An antique lamp from France, where they invented pasta! And what about this?! Weird colored sunglasses made by Benjamin Franklin, who invented the company I pay to keep the lights on in my house! All of these things are character pieces. This is called ‘setting the scene’, you noob, which is a slang word for an idiot with a dumb face. I have character now! I am character! We are the World!
Anyway, keep this in mind when you are thinking about giving me more feedback. I am who I am, you dirty, greasy walking pile of melted duck feet! Yes, I mean you!! You! You! And You! I developed the hell out of my character just now. I said ‘hell’ which is borderline dirty, and I thought deeply about life, then rode a bicycle to the soundtrack from Goonies.
Beat that, pal!
Spoiler alert. You can’t.
Watch your ass, Classic Wrestling, another thing Bobby can’t physically do, and beware my newly formed character, built with my own hands, the same hands that can and will break your entire face!!
Your stupid, stupid face.”
Hunter turns around and sits back down on his couch, then looks to his right.
“Aren’t my daffodils pretty?”
FADE OUT.