Post by J-TV on May 13, 2024 7:50:50 GMT
The following is a special broadcast of
The views and opinions expressed therein do not represent those of the Imperial Wrestling Federation or its staff.
The screen is completely black. There is nothing but complete silence in the air.
"Do you hear that?"
A familiar voice calls out from the darkness, echoing in the empty space that obscures the view.
"It's as deafening as TNT, but as quiet as a mouse. Listen closer, now... tell me if you can make it out."
Another long pause.
"That's the sound of every eye in the industry turning towards me the moment I open my mouth, the moment they see that disclaimer. It's the sound of held breath, the sound of sweat leaking out of pores while they wait to see what I do next. With only four matches to my name, I've become one of the biggest attractions in this business today. Do you know why?"
Finally, a bright light floods the room, revealing it to be the empty chamber with a single television seen at the end of the previous episode of J-TV. The television flicks to life of its own volition, the old tubes within it buzzing and purring as the static on the screen clears. The camera zooms in until the television fills the frame. On the display is an empty city street in the dark of night, illuminated only flashing signs, and dim window glows surrounding the road.
A group of figures approaches slowly from the end of the street as music begins to play.
Every dim and dead streetlight comes to life at once, bright light bathing the road ahead. The camera zooms in to focus only on the man in the middle of the group: Jason Hathaway, draped in loose fitting leather jacket covered top to bottom in colorful tassels with a pair of puffy white fur pants hanging on his waist. As the view slowly pans out, it's revealed he's riding the massive mountain lion that nearly devoured Robbie in New Mexico, wearing a collar with the nametag "Whiskers" around his neck.
"It's because I'm not like you, Maddy. I'm different. I'm so different, in fact, that even somebody as thick as you can't look past it. You can't take your eyes off of me, actually. And who could blame you? I don't beg for attention, I demand it. I draw it in like moths to flame."
Jason's narration continues as a voiceover as the camera continues to zoom out. An RV is driving slowly beside J-TV, its walls riddled with bullet holes and claw marks. From the driver's side window, Robbie the Camera Guy, wearing the latest Serenity Holmes T-Shirt, leans halfway out of the car and tosses meat snacks out in front of the lion to keep him moving forward.
"It's because despite your every attempt to be unique, everything you change about yourself to seem different... You just aren't. You're boring, Madjinn. When people tune in to watch you wrestle, they don't see anything they don't see every single day at work. You're an egotistical douchebag, who can't decide if he wants to be feared or envied."
The view pans out even further. On Jason's other side, a chrome-colored Star Wars droid wearing a strangely familiar Luchadore mask and a sombrero rides along beside him on a segway. The roof of the RV can also be seen now, where Delegate Sky and Viceroy Alexander have a momentous and death-defying duel with plastic lightsabers to the drumbeat of the music.
"You claim to be an heir to a warrior bloodline, the latest in a family of talent and prestige. It's a good cover story for the reality. That being, of course, that you're an overprivileged, overhyped nepo-baby who isn't able to handle being in the shadow of the rest of his family. Worst part is, I think I liked you more when you pretended to be a badass, not whatever this washed-up fuckboy you've turned into is."
The camera begins a wide sweep around the group, now aimed at their backs as they approach a backlit warehouse at the end of the street. Jason raises his hand and snaps his fingers, and a spark of electricity turns on a massive neon sign perched atop the massive building.
The doors of the warehouse begin to slide open as Robbie stops the RV and opens the back, where both he and an entire television camera crew exit from. Hathaway dismounts his trusty Mountain Lion while Delegate Sky, Viceroy Alexander, and Robo-Malo hurry to gather behind him as he approaches the door, colorful strobing lights pouring from the opening. The view switches to that of Robbie's handheld camera, close behind J-TV as the colors envelope him completely.
"Might be a bit hypocritical of me to call another man's ego into question, yeah. Difference is, I've backed up every single thing I've ever said on J-TV since its debut. They lined them up, and I've knocked them down. What's more, I do it all in a more entertaining way that anybody else on this whole damned roster. They watch you because they're forced to, you're the champ. They watch me because they can't stop. They know that J-TV doesn't stop in the ring, it doesn't stop at the three-count."
The powerful strobes slowly fade out, and the inside of the warehouse can finally be made out through the harsh lights. The building is full of props and set-pieces from the first four episodes of J-TV. There's a smash cut to a giant replica starship hanging from the roof.
"J-TV takes them into space."
Now a cut to the RV sitting outside.
"J-TV takes them into the desert."
Next, the J-TV news set and the JSPN sports center, complete with a wall of Televisions playing the previous J-TV episodes behind them.
"To the newsroom, to the lockers."
Finally, a brief cut to several never-before-seen set-pieces. A throne seemingly made entirely of swords, a pile of guns and rations underneath a prop zombie corpse, and a red Gizmonic Institute jumpsuit hanging on the wall.
"And far beyond."
Jason saunters over to the throne and seat himself, crossing one leg over the other as the Sky and Alexander lookalikes quickly push a replica of the Resolute Desk over to rest in front of him, with the eagle design on the front replaced by the face of the IWF TV Title. Whiskers the Mountain Lion quickly hops up onto the desk with a content purr and curls up lazily in front of Hathaway.
The music fades, and Jason speaks from the desk now, the voiceover effect ending.
"You've defended that pretty belt of yours quite a few times, but I have something that none of those people had. An advantage. A trump card. Know what that is, Maddy?"
The wall of TV's behind Hathaway all switch to the same image; The look on Madjinn's face after briefly losing his championship to El Grande Malo.
"I have power over you. For all the bravado, all the showing off and the gross PDA with your battle-axe of a girlfriend, I'm in your head. Little Jason Hathaway, the rookie with four matches under his belt and no one but a Camera Guy to back him up, is in your head."
J-TV leans forward, running his hand gently down Whisker's back with an insufferably smug grin.
"All of this buildup, all of the taunting at ringside... You're scared! You're scared that finally; somebody has come around who can make you tick. And you know what? You're right to be scared. Because when I beat you for that TV Title, what will be left for you? Your woman? Your family? Maybe so."
The televisions quickly flash through several scenes. Black Widow cheating to help Madjinn win, Madjinn attacking poor, innocent little Malo in a temper tantrum, and phone camera footage of him clinging to his belt as he walks to the back. Jason even spins around to watch.
He'd always thought that show would have been much cooler if the throne was a swivel chair.
"But I get to take what's most important to you. I get to take your glory. I get to take your status. The best part is? You have to beat me, and you know it. A disqualification? A cheap win with help from your screeching harpy? That just proves my point, that the great warrior heir, the Madjinn himself, couldn't beat a rookie."
Hathaway turns to look back at the camera from over his shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows.
"We aren't in your world anymore, we're in mine. You've had the time to tell your story, to share your vision. Unfortunately, you just aren't doing the numbers you used to, and the IWF has decided to fill your timeslot with something else. They gave you chance after chance, all those polls, tossing you freebies, and you still couldn't put on a decent show. So now it's my time, my show."
Jason turns back to the TV wall, leaning back and resting his hands behind his head as the lights begin to dim around him.
"Who knows? When I'm done, maybe you can come work for me. There's always room for extras here. Besides, once you've lost the TV Championship, the next best thing is being a part of the greatest program in TV history..."
The lights go completely out, and the screen fades to black.
"J. T. V."
Every dim and dead streetlight comes to life at once, bright light bathing the road ahead. The camera zooms in to focus only on the man in the middle of the group: Jason Hathaway, draped in loose fitting leather jacket covered top to bottom in colorful tassels with a pair of puffy white fur pants hanging on his waist. As the view slowly pans out, it's revealed he's riding the massive mountain lion that nearly devoured Robbie in New Mexico, wearing a collar with the nametag "Whiskers" around his neck.
"It's because I'm not like you, Maddy. I'm different. I'm so different, in fact, that even somebody as thick as you can't look past it. You can't take your eyes off of me, actually. And who could blame you? I don't beg for attention, I demand it. I draw it in like moths to flame."
Jason's narration continues as a voiceover as the camera continues to zoom out. An RV is driving slowly beside J-TV, its walls riddled with bullet holes and claw marks. From the driver's side window, Robbie the Camera Guy, wearing the latest Serenity Holmes T-Shirt, leans halfway out of the car and tosses meat snacks out in front of the lion to keep him moving forward.
"It's because despite your every attempt to be unique, everything you change about yourself to seem different... You just aren't. You're boring, Madjinn. When people tune in to watch you wrestle, they don't see anything they don't see every single day at work. You're an egotistical douchebag, who can't decide if he wants to be feared or envied."
The view pans out even further. On Jason's other side, a chrome-colored Star Wars droid wearing a strangely familiar Luchadore mask and a sombrero rides along beside him on a segway. The roof of the RV can also be seen now, where Delegate Sky and Viceroy Alexander have a momentous and death-defying duel with plastic lightsabers to the drumbeat of the music.
"You claim to be an heir to a warrior bloodline, the latest in a family of talent and prestige. It's a good cover story for the reality. That being, of course, that you're an overprivileged, overhyped nepo-baby who isn't able to handle being in the shadow of the rest of his family. Worst part is, I think I liked you more when you pretended to be a badass, not whatever this washed-up fuckboy you've turned into is."
The camera begins a wide sweep around the group, now aimed at their backs as they approach a backlit warehouse at the end of the street. Jason raises his hand and snaps his fingers, and a spark of electricity turns on a massive neon sign perched atop the massive building.
The doors of the warehouse begin to slide open as Robbie stops the RV and opens the back, where both he and an entire television camera crew exit from. Hathaway dismounts his trusty Mountain Lion while Delegate Sky, Viceroy Alexander, and Robo-Malo hurry to gather behind him as he approaches the door, colorful strobing lights pouring from the opening. The view switches to that of Robbie's handheld camera, close behind J-TV as the colors envelope him completely.
"Might be a bit hypocritical of me to call another man's ego into question, yeah. Difference is, I've backed up every single thing I've ever said on J-TV since its debut. They lined them up, and I've knocked them down. What's more, I do it all in a more entertaining way that anybody else on this whole damned roster. They watch you because they're forced to, you're the champ. They watch me because they can't stop. They know that J-TV doesn't stop in the ring, it doesn't stop at the three-count."
The powerful strobes slowly fade out, and the inside of the warehouse can finally be made out through the harsh lights. The building is full of props and set-pieces from the first four episodes of J-TV. There's a smash cut to a giant replica starship hanging from the roof.
"J-TV takes them into space."
Now a cut to the RV sitting outside.
"J-TV takes them into the desert."
Next, the J-TV news set and the JSPN sports center, complete with a wall of Televisions playing the previous J-TV episodes behind them.
"To the newsroom, to the lockers."
Finally, a brief cut to several never-before-seen set-pieces. A throne seemingly made entirely of swords, a pile of guns and rations underneath a prop zombie corpse, and a red Gizmonic Institute jumpsuit hanging on the wall.
"And far beyond."
Jason saunters over to the throne and seat himself, crossing one leg over the other as the Sky and Alexander lookalikes quickly push a replica of the Resolute Desk over to rest in front of him, with the eagle design on the front replaced by the face of the IWF TV Title. Whiskers the Mountain Lion quickly hops up onto the desk with a content purr and curls up lazily in front of Hathaway.
The music fades, and Jason speaks from the desk now, the voiceover effect ending.
"You've defended that pretty belt of yours quite a few times, but I have something that none of those people had. An advantage. A trump card. Know what that is, Maddy?"
The wall of TV's behind Hathaway all switch to the same image; The look on Madjinn's face after briefly losing his championship to El Grande Malo.
"I have power over you. For all the bravado, all the showing off and the gross PDA with your battle-axe of a girlfriend, I'm in your head. Little Jason Hathaway, the rookie with four matches under his belt and no one but a Camera Guy to back him up, is in your head."
J-TV leans forward, running his hand gently down Whisker's back with an insufferably smug grin.
"All of this buildup, all of the taunting at ringside... You're scared! You're scared that finally; somebody has come around who can make you tick. And you know what? You're right to be scared. Because when I beat you for that TV Title, what will be left for you? Your woman? Your family? Maybe so."
The televisions quickly flash through several scenes. Black Widow cheating to help Madjinn win, Madjinn attacking poor, innocent little Malo in a temper tantrum, and phone camera footage of him clinging to his belt as he walks to the back. Jason even spins around to watch.
He'd always thought that show would have been much cooler if the throne was a swivel chair.
"But I get to take what's most important to you. I get to take your glory. I get to take your status. The best part is? You have to beat me, and you know it. A disqualification? A cheap win with help from your screeching harpy? That just proves my point, that the great warrior heir, the Madjinn himself, couldn't beat a rookie."
Hathaway turns to look back at the camera from over his shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows.
"We aren't in your world anymore, we're in mine. You've had the time to tell your story, to share your vision. Unfortunately, you just aren't doing the numbers you used to, and the IWF has decided to fill your timeslot with something else. They gave you chance after chance, all those polls, tossing you freebies, and you still couldn't put on a decent show. So now it's my time, my show."
Jason turns back to the TV wall, leaning back and resting his hands behind his head as the lights begin to dim around him.
"Who knows? When I'm done, maybe you can come work for me. There's always room for extras here. Besides, once you've lost the TV Championship, the next best thing is being a part of the greatest program in TV history..."
The lights go completely out, and the screen fades to black.
"J. T. V."
Well howdy there pardner.