Out in the suburbs, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the blue sky is radiant and a lovely white picket fence frames a medium sized colonial home. Little flower pots are to each side of the front door, with petunias protruding proudly. The alliterative plants add a dash of color to the plain white facade.
After a few moments the front door opens, and a smiling Scott Hunter answers with a big smile, teeth gleaming, and he waves us forward.
“Oh! Hello there! Come on in!”
The camera moves forward, pauses, and Hunter waves us in one more time.
“Come in! Come in! Greetings!”
Our view moves in through the door and follows Scott Hunter to his living room. He leans on a piece of crown molding adorning the arched entrance to his den and smiles his best “genuine” smile.
“It’s been a hard couple of weeks for ol’ Scotty Hunter, let me tell you. I lost a match to a man who smells like herbal tea and talks like he just fell out of a Tarzan movie. Furthermore, his ridiculously disgusting bare feet caused an outbreak of athlete’s foot in the shower room places, and IT WON’T STOP ITCHING!!”
Hunter’s irritation is evident, but he calms himself down again with a Buddhist chant. ‘O Partridge Periwinkle Ravioli…. Ommmmmm’.
“I want everyone in Classic Wrestling to understand something right now, and I’ve brought this camera crew here to get this in person so you can all give me your full attention. First of all, if you think I’m done for after my loss to Wong-Pei the Monkey Boy over there, you have one thing coming, and then, you have ANOTHER thing coming! And second of all, the facts are that I am still the holder of a record unmatched by anyone else in this company! No one else is four and four like me! I’m not even sure what those numbers signify, but I KNOW THEY MATTER!”
Hunter turns and wanders toward his kitchen, where several 8x10s are splayed out on the counter.
“And finally, the morons who work in the Classic Wrestling office sent me a bunch of ideas for sponsorships and want me to give some feedback on some advertising opportunities, and while the idea of… ‘Holo Make Presents Tough Actin’ Tinactin’ is both catchy and makes perfect sense on account of his foot smell that bleaches carpets and makes janitors in elementary school put a bunch of sawdust on it to clean it up… I’m not interested in putting ads all over my house, all over my person, all over my car, all over my podcast… and WHY IS HOLO MAKE HANGING OUT AT ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS?!”
He nods.
“Good questions. Another good question, I think that man is half man half grasshopper. Swear to God, rub his legs together and you’d swear you were on a camping trip. So why are we letting grasshoppers wrestle?! It makes no sense! Craig, make this make sense!”
From offscreen, Scott’s friend Craig says back, “I can’t.”
Hunter points at him.
“Exactly! No one knows the answer! Well here’s what I do know the answer to. I know the answer to the question, what’s next for Scott Hunter? And the answer is VICTORIES AND GLORY! Also, I need to pick up some bread at the store and do my dry cleaning, BUT MOSTLY VICTORIES AND GLORY!”
Hunter walks a few steps further and his eyes catch the sight of a small box of Hungry Jack pancake mix.
“Craig! I’m hungry. Turn this dusty mix into pancakes for me!”
Craig audibly sighs as the scene fades.