Post by chuck on Apr 2, 2017 2:02:27 GMT
A Plane
August 2016
Somewhere Over the Pacific
-OFF CAMERA-
Chuck Matthews leans back in his seat, his eyes closed. In front of him, on a small desk, a file sits, unopened, “CLASSIFIED” stamped in bright red ink across the front.
: “You’re not going to read it?”
Chuck doesn’t bother to open his eyes.
Chuck Matthews: “Don’t need to.”
His companion scoffs. He’s not an old man, exactly, though considerably older than Chuck. He’s dressed in a dark suit and a beret, and reads a file of his own.
Lieutenant Conrad: “You could at least pretend to be interested in this.”
Chuck grunts.
Chuck Matthews: “Don’t push it.”
The Lieutenant frowns.
Lieutenant Conrad: “I read your file, Mr. Matthews.”
Chuck smirks, opening his eyes and leaning forward in feigned excitement.
Chuck Matthews: “Oooh, I have a file? Can’t wait to hear what you guys dug up on me.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “You’re supposed to be some sort of genius.”
Chuck Matthews: “So I’ve heard.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “Scored extremely high in tests of cognitive ability. Above average in tests of spatial reasoning. Exceptional in tests of memory.”
Chuck Matthews: “Yeah yeah, old news.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “Says here you’ve got a Master’s of Divinity.”
Chuck Matthews: “Remember that, it might come in handy on trivia night.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “Psych eval suggests high levels of narcissism.”
Chuck pauses for a moment, then shrugs.
Chuck Matthews: “...Actually, I can't argue with that one.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “So of all the people we could have picked, we send you? A washed-up professional wrestler from Chicago?”
Chuck Matthews: “Washed-up? Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “Your brother pulled a lot of strings to get you on this plane. I suggest you take it seriously.”
Chuck Matthews: “Yeah, I know how this goes. The courts say he can’t put together one of his little all-star team, so he’s going to go under the radar and grab people who don’t have any ties to the US Military. No doubt he’s got another little squad running around somewhere while I get this job done.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “You don’t get along with your brother, do you?”
Chuck Matthews: “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here making him look good, would I?”
Lieutenant Conrad: “If you know this is under the radar, you know he can’t take credit for this.”
Chuck Matthews: “No, but I’m sure this will all set things up very conveniently for him to make a play.”
There’s silence for a moment.
Lieutenant Conrad: “So how exactly do you plan to pull this off?”
Chuck frowns. He slides his folder across the desk to Conrad.
Chuck Matthews: “This guy’s gonna give it to me.”
Conrad opens the file and laughs.
Lieutenant Conrad: “You understand this is the guy we’re trying to AVOID working with, yeah? And you’re going to use him to betray his own country?”
Chuck shrugs.
Chuck Matthews: “I’m very good at what I do.”
He leans back in his seat. The briefing had taken far longer than he would have liked…
-----------------------------------------
An Outpost
August 2016, Two Weeks Earlier
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
-OFF CAMERA-
A large projector screen depicts a map of Africa. Chuck is sitting in a conference room, surrounded by soldiers and high-ranking military officers. A few seats down, a man who shares a striking resemblance to Chuck sits. His hair is cropped short and while his presence is clearly indicative of a ranked official, he’s dressed for combat, wearing heavy black gear, a sidearm dangling at his hip. This is Christopher Matthews. At the front of the room, a rather nervous-looking gentleman in thick glasses is flipping through the slides.
Peter McCluster: “Fort Bulgrad. It’s a small island nation off the coast of Southern Africa. Population is roughly two hundred and fifty thousand, making the whole country about a quarter of the size of Rhode Island.”
He flips the slide, showing a few slides of run-down buildings, tropical forests, and sandy beaches.
Peter McCluster: “Now Fort Bulgrad was originally called Sao Pietro when it was colonized by the Italians in the 1940s. During the war, it was taken over by the Soviets and became a military fort and training ground. Since then, a lot of the old buildings have been converted to government facilities and homes have been built for their people. “
He flips the slide. A sullen man in a suit and a red tie stares back.
Peter McCluster: “This bundle of daisies is Dimitri Volkov. Now, Fort Bulgrad declared its independence from Russia back in the late 1990’s, but they’re still feeling the influence, and Volkov is a big part of that. It’s not any secret that Volkov is still in Russia’s pocket. Conveniently, Fort Bulgrad doesn’t honor any extradition treaties with Russia’s enemies, and seems to trade only with Russia itself. Volkov has won the last three elections.”
Chuck speaks up.
Chuck Matthews: “What’s their government structure look like?”
Peter smiles.
Peter McCluster: “Funny you should ask. Bulgrad decided to adopt a democratic system of government after the revolution in 1996. Things were a little shaky for a while, but they’ve got themselves a bit of a system now. Elections for president run every five years, with no term limit put in place. Popular vote wins. That seems all well and good, except-“
Chuck Matthews: “Volkov’s been president for fifteen years.”
Peter McCluster: “Beat his first opponent in a landslide victory and never looked back. Seemed a little unusual, seeing that Volkov’s platform embraced Russia and viewed the revolution as a critical misstep in Bulgrad’s evolution… not exactly a popular idea.”
Chuck Matthews: “So how’d he get elected?”
Peter McCluster: “That much, we’re still working on.”
Chuck frowns. He stares at the screen. Volkov stares back, his sunken eyes seeming to bore into his soul. For a moment, Chuck swears the image is twisting into a mocking smile. McCluster continues to talk, but Chuck stares ahead at Volkov. Something about the man seemed off. Like there was something he was hiding… something that wasn’t quite right. Chuck shakes his head.
Peter McCluster: “Any questions?”
Chuck Matthews: “Yeah… where did you say Volkov was born?”
Peter McCluster: “Uh… I didn’t, I didn’t think it was releva-“
Chuck Matthews: “Find out for me.”
Peter looks to Christopher, who looks at Chuck, an amused expression on his face. He knew how his brother worked, and even amidst Chuck’s seemingly trivial questions, Chris could see the gears already turning in Chuck’s head. It had taken him a lot of convincing to bring Chuck on board for this project; understandably, his superiors did not take kindly to a civilian taking on such a major role. Still… Chris trusted Chuck. And if they wanted to make their move, they would need to deal with the sensitive political situation in Bulgrad.
Chuck was the best man for the job.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Present Day
Chicago, Illinois
-ON CAMERA-
Chuck Matthews: “Let’s rewind a little bit.
So, a couple weeks ago, we saw the return of the beloved Chuck Matthews to the wrestling business. And I lost. Clean, too, I might add. Not only that, but in a bizarre twist, I was the one pinned, which, as we learned from our Inferno days, is a tough thing to do.
Let us take a moment, then, to give a hearty congratulations to Kenzie Rydell for doing what exactly one other person has been able to do in the better part of the last two years, and that is to pin Chuck Matthews for three seconds.
Round of applause.
Everybody cheers.
We move on to the next one.
That’s how this business works, isn’t it? Everybody wants to talk about how every match is important, how every match MEANS something, how if you want to be a REAL wrestler you need to go into every match like it’s your last and fight your precious little heart out.
Let me let you in on a little secret. Are you listening? Is EVERYBODY listening?
‘No.’
Take it from somebody who has done about everything there is to do in this business: No, not all matches mean things. All matches are not created equal. No, I’m not talking about in the course of a single show. We all know the main event is huge, we all know there’s one match on the show that nobody really cares about. But even within your own career: Some matches just mean something more than others.
A triple threat between Kenzie Rydell, Aurora Graves, and Chuck Matthews? You really think anybody is coming to an FSociety event to see that? Now, don’t get me wrong, I understand that my name has a good bit of drawing power. But I’ve been out of action a year. I’ve been out of the game. I’ve been doing my own thing. I’m not so naïve to think that I’d just come waltzing back in and running roughshod over everyone and everything and make it look easy.
At least, not without a reason to do it, and truth be told, neither of those two gave me that reason.
Yeah, I know where this is about to go. SOMEBODY is going to take to twitter, talking about how I’m rolling with my ‘too cool for school’ nonsense, that I’m downplaying the importance of a match, that I continue to disrespect this business, whatever else I’ve been accused of the past couple years.
But let’s take a look at something, shall we? For all my grandeur, for all my apathy, for all this ‘Last week didn’t mean anything,’ and look where we wind up?
Here I am, two weeks later, fighting Seth Lawless for a chance to fight for a belt.
Evidently, I lost so bad in episode one that I was punished for my atrocious performance by… getting a number one contender’s match.
You start to see what I’m saying? Last match? It didn’t MATTER. It didn’t MEAN anything. At the end of the day, Chris Night knows what’s best for his company, and THAT means if you have a talent like Chuck Matthews, you don’t let him rot away on the undercard. You give him something worth his time. You give him something to fight for. You give him something to DO.
So here we are.
I have to applaud Mr. Night here. He’s learned a few things from my days in Inferno. He knows how I operate. He knows what I do.
I’ve said this in the past: People do not bring me into their companies to see what I can do. People hire me because they already KNOW what I can do. That’s the point.
Chris Night is aware, as I’m sure many of you are by now aware, that you have in your midst the Smartest Man in Professional Wrestling. But, of course, you don’t know why, and you don’t know what he’s after and THIS time around, as many of you may have already noticed, he hasn’t begun tooting his horn about his master plan.
That, ladies and gentlemen, should concern you. Now, there’s a number of different reasons why that may be the case. Could be that I don’t have one. Could be that my plans don’t require people to know of them until it’s too late. Could be that I just don’t feel like telling you. But here’s the important takeaway from all of this:
In the past, what I’ve wanted, I’ve come in and taken. It’s not a matter of if. It’s a matter of when. No man, no woman, no combined efforts of an entire company, for the nine years I’ve been in this business, has been able to stop me from getting what I want.
Welcome home, Seth.
Now, you… you find yourself in a unique scenario, don’t you? You, like me, find yourself returning to the ring, getting back to fighting form. Like me, you’re not going to waste your time ‘proving yourself,’ you’re right back to where you were before you bailed. You’re the guy to beat, aren’t you? You’re the former champ. You’re the FSociety guy. You’re the Problem Solver…whatever the fuck THAT means.
And I’m the puzzle that NOBODY could solve. I’m the riddle that’s been stumping people for years. I’m that code that nobody can quite seem to crack.
And sure, you can raise your hand and point to Kenzie Rydell and say ‘Hey there Chuck, SHE beat you!’ And you would be right. And a fat load of good that did her, isn’t it? Because when you come back here in a month, you take a look at what Chuck Matthews is doing and you take a look at what Kenzie Rydell is doing, and you tell me what that match really meant.
Just like I said… that’s how this business works. So you tell me: What happens after the bell? Chuck Matthews has his one on one match. I’ve tested the waters, I’ve gauged the kind of talent we’ve got here in FSociety, and now… now, playtime is over. Now, I’m going to march my sweet ass to the ring, I’m going to stare down Seth Lawless, and I’m going to send him right the fuck back out of FSociety.
Not for the money.
Not for the title.
Because it’s fun.
Because who’s going to stop me? Because there’s nobody here who can match wits with me, and when you’re fighting a man like Chuck Matthews, you need to know you are no longer fighting a wrestling match. I’ve never been the greatest wrestler. I’m aware of that. What makes me a success, what’s made me a legend in this business, is that I’ve used my distinct advantage to completely change the rules of the game. I turn an athletic contest into a thinking man’s competition, and in THAT realm… I’m untouchable.
So you tell the world that this is your match to take, Seth. Tell anybody who will listen that Chuck Matthews is past his prime, that he doesn’t have what it takes anymore. Meanwhile? I’ll be doing what I do best. Now you tell me, Mr. Problem Solver:
How do you intend to solve that?”
August 2016
Somewhere Over the Pacific
-OFF CAMERA-
Chuck Matthews leans back in his seat, his eyes closed. In front of him, on a small desk, a file sits, unopened, “CLASSIFIED” stamped in bright red ink across the front.
: “You’re not going to read it?”Chuck doesn’t bother to open his eyes.
Chuck Matthews: “Don’t need to.”
His companion scoffs. He’s not an old man, exactly, though considerably older than Chuck. He’s dressed in a dark suit and a beret, and reads a file of his own.
Lieutenant Conrad: “You could at least pretend to be interested in this.”
Chuck grunts.
Chuck Matthews: “Don’t push it.”
The Lieutenant frowns.
Lieutenant Conrad: “I read your file, Mr. Matthews.”
Chuck smirks, opening his eyes and leaning forward in feigned excitement.
Chuck Matthews: “Oooh, I have a file? Can’t wait to hear what you guys dug up on me.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “You’re supposed to be some sort of genius.”
Chuck Matthews: “So I’ve heard.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “Scored extremely high in tests of cognitive ability. Above average in tests of spatial reasoning. Exceptional in tests of memory.”
Chuck Matthews: “Yeah yeah, old news.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “Says here you’ve got a Master’s of Divinity.”
Chuck Matthews: “Remember that, it might come in handy on trivia night.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “Psych eval suggests high levels of narcissism.”
Chuck pauses for a moment, then shrugs.
Chuck Matthews: “...Actually, I can't argue with that one.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “So of all the people we could have picked, we send you? A washed-up professional wrestler from Chicago?”
Chuck Matthews: “Washed-up? Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “Your brother pulled a lot of strings to get you on this plane. I suggest you take it seriously.”
Chuck Matthews: “Yeah, I know how this goes. The courts say he can’t put together one of his little all-star team, so he’s going to go under the radar and grab people who don’t have any ties to the US Military. No doubt he’s got another little squad running around somewhere while I get this job done.”
Lieutenant Conrad: “You don’t get along with your brother, do you?”
Chuck Matthews: “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here making him look good, would I?”
Lieutenant Conrad: “If you know this is under the radar, you know he can’t take credit for this.”
Chuck Matthews: “No, but I’m sure this will all set things up very conveniently for him to make a play.”
There’s silence for a moment.
Lieutenant Conrad: “So how exactly do you plan to pull this off?”
Chuck frowns. He slides his folder across the desk to Conrad.
Chuck Matthews: “This guy’s gonna give it to me.”
Conrad opens the file and laughs.
Lieutenant Conrad: “You understand this is the guy we’re trying to AVOID working with, yeah? And you’re going to use him to betray his own country?”
Chuck shrugs.
Chuck Matthews: “I’m very good at what I do.”
He leans back in his seat. The briefing had taken far longer than he would have liked…
-----------------------------------------
An Outpost
August 2016, Two Weeks Earlier
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
-OFF CAMERA-
A large projector screen depicts a map of Africa. Chuck is sitting in a conference room, surrounded by soldiers and high-ranking military officers. A few seats down, a man who shares a striking resemblance to Chuck sits. His hair is cropped short and while his presence is clearly indicative of a ranked official, he’s dressed for combat, wearing heavy black gear, a sidearm dangling at his hip. This is Christopher Matthews. At the front of the room, a rather nervous-looking gentleman in thick glasses is flipping through the slides.
Peter McCluster: “Fort Bulgrad. It’s a small island nation off the coast of Southern Africa. Population is roughly two hundred and fifty thousand, making the whole country about a quarter of the size of Rhode Island.”
He flips the slide, showing a few slides of run-down buildings, tropical forests, and sandy beaches.
Peter McCluster: “Now Fort Bulgrad was originally called Sao Pietro when it was colonized by the Italians in the 1940s. During the war, it was taken over by the Soviets and became a military fort and training ground. Since then, a lot of the old buildings have been converted to government facilities and homes have been built for their people. “
He flips the slide. A sullen man in a suit and a red tie stares back.
Peter McCluster: “This bundle of daisies is Dimitri Volkov. Now, Fort Bulgrad declared its independence from Russia back in the late 1990’s, but they’re still feeling the influence, and Volkov is a big part of that. It’s not any secret that Volkov is still in Russia’s pocket. Conveniently, Fort Bulgrad doesn’t honor any extradition treaties with Russia’s enemies, and seems to trade only with Russia itself. Volkov has won the last three elections.”
Chuck speaks up.
Chuck Matthews: “What’s their government structure look like?”
Peter smiles.
Peter McCluster: “Funny you should ask. Bulgrad decided to adopt a democratic system of government after the revolution in 1996. Things were a little shaky for a while, but they’ve got themselves a bit of a system now. Elections for president run every five years, with no term limit put in place. Popular vote wins. That seems all well and good, except-“
Chuck Matthews: “Volkov’s been president for fifteen years.”
Peter McCluster: “Beat his first opponent in a landslide victory and never looked back. Seemed a little unusual, seeing that Volkov’s platform embraced Russia and viewed the revolution as a critical misstep in Bulgrad’s evolution… not exactly a popular idea.”
Chuck Matthews: “So how’d he get elected?”
Peter McCluster: “That much, we’re still working on.”
Chuck frowns. He stares at the screen. Volkov stares back, his sunken eyes seeming to bore into his soul. For a moment, Chuck swears the image is twisting into a mocking smile. McCluster continues to talk, but Chuck stares ahead at Volkov. Something about the man seemed off. Like there was something he was hiding… something that wasn’t quite right. Chuck shakes his head.
Peter McCluster: “Any questions?”
Chuck Matthews: “Yeah… where did you say Volkov was born?”
Peter McCluster: “Uh… I didn’t, I didn’t think it was releva-“
Chuck Matthews: “Find out for me.”
Peter looks to Christopher, who looks at Chuck, an amused expression on his face. He knew how his brother worked, and even amidst Chuck’s seemingly trivial questions, Chris could see the gears already turning in Chuck’s head. It had taken him a lot of convincing to bring Chuck on board for this project; understandably, his superiors did not take kindly to a civilian taking on such a major role. Still… Chris trusted Chuck. And if they wanted to make their move, they would need to deal with the sensitive political situation in Bulgrad.
Chuck was the best man for the job.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Present Day
Chicago, Illinois
-ON CAMERA-
Chuck Matthews: “Let’s rewind a little bit.
So, a couple weeks ago, we saw the return of the beloved Chuck Matthews to the wrestling business. And I lost. Clean, too, I might add. Not only that, but in a bizarre twist, I was the one pinned, which, as we learned from our Inferno days, is a tough thing to do.
Let us take a moment, then, to give a hearty congratulations to Kenzie Rydell for doing what exactly one other person has been able to do in the better part of the last two years, and that is to pin Chuck Matthews for three seconds.
Round of applause.
Everybody cheers.
We move on to the next one.
That’s how this business works, isn’t it? Everybody wants to talk about how every match is important, how every match MEANS something, how if you want to be a REAL wrestler you need to go into every match like it’s your last and fight your precious little heart out.
Let me let you in on a little secret. Are you listening? Is EVERYBODY listening?
‘No.’
Take it from somebody who has done about everything there is to do in this business: No, not all matches mean things. All matches are not created equal. No, I’m not talking about in the course of a single show. We all know the main event is huge, we all know there’s one match on the show that nobody really cares about. But even within your own career: Some matches just mean something more than others.
A triple threat between Kenzie Rydell, Aurora Graves, and Chuck Matthews? You really think anybody is coming to an FSociety event to see that? Now, don’t get me wrong, I understand that my name has a good bit of drawing power. But I’ve been out of action a year. I’ve been out of the game. I’ve been doing my own thing. I’m not so naïve to think that I’d just come waltzing back in and running roughshod over everyone and everything and make it look easy.
At least, not without a reason to do it, and truth be told, neither of those two gave me that reason.
Yeah, I know where this is about to go. SOMEBODY is going to take to twitter, talking about how I’m rolling with my ‘too cool for school’ nonsense, that I’m downplaying the importance of a match, that I continue to disrespect this business, whatever else I’ve been accused of the past couple years.
But let’s take a look at something, shall we? For all my grandeur, for all my apathy, for all this ‘Last week didn’t mean anything,’ and look where we wind up?
Here I am, two weeks later, fighting Seth Lawless for a chance to fight for a belt.
Evidently, I lost so bad in episode one that I was punished for my atrocious performance by… getting a number one contender’s match.
You start to see what I’m saying? Last match? It didn’t MATTER. It didn’t MEAN anything. At the end of the day, Chris Night knows what’s best for his company, and THAT means if you have a talent like Chuck Matthews, you don’t let him rot away on the undercard. You give him something worth his time. You give him something to fight for. You give him something to DO.
So here we are.
I have to applaud Mr. Night here. He’s learned a few things from my days in Inferno. He knows how I operate. He knows what I do.
I’ve said this in the past: People do not bring me into their companies to see what I can do. People hire me because they already KNOW what I can do. That’s the point.
Chris Night is aware, as I’m sure many of you are by now aware, that you have in your midst the Smartest Man in Professional Wrestling. But, of course, you don’t know why, and you don’t know what he’s after and THIS time around, as many of you may have already noticed, he hasn’t begun tooting his horn about his master plan.
That, ladies and gentlemen, should concern you. Now, there’s a number of different reasons why that may be the case. Could be that I don’t have one. Could be that my plans don’t require people to know of them until it’s too late. Could be that I just don’t feel like telling you. But here’s the important takeaway from all of this:
In the past, what I’ve wanted, I’ve come in and taken. It’s not a matter of if. It’s a matter of when. No man, no woman, no combined efforts of an entire company, for the nine years I’ve been in this business, has been able to stop me from getting what I want.
Welcome home, Seth.
Now, you… you find yourself in a unique scenario, don’t you? You, like me, find yourself returning to the ring, getting back to fighting form. Like me, you’re not going to waste your time ‘proving yourself,’ you’re right back to where you were before you bailed. You’re the guy to beat, aren’t you? You’re the former champ. You’re the FSociety guy. You’re the Problem Solver…whatever the fuck THAT means.
And I’m the puzzle that NOBODY could solve. I’m the riddle that’s been stumping people for years. I’m that code that nobody can quite seem to crack.
And sure, you can raise your hand and point to Kenzie Rydell and say ‘Hey there Chuck, SHE beat you!’ And you would be right. And a fat load of good that did her, isn’t it? Because when you come back here in a month, you take a look at what Chuck Matthews is doing and you take a look at what Kenzie Rydell is doing, and you tell me what that match really meant.
Just like I said… that’s how this business works. So you tell me: What happens after the bell? Chuck Matthews has his one on one match. I’ve tested the waters, I’ve gauged the kind of talent we’ve got here in FSociety, and now… now, playtime is over. Now, I’m going to march my sweet ass to the ring, I’m going to stare down Seth Lawless, and I’m going to send him right the fuck back out of FSociety.
Not for the money.
Not for the title.
Because it’s fun.
Because who’s going to stop me? Because there’s nobody here who can match wits with me, and when you’re fighting a man like Chuck Matthews, you need to know you are no longer fighting a wrestling match. I’ve never been the greatest wrestler. I’m aware of that. What makes me a success, what’s made me a legend in this business, is that I’ve used my distinct advantage to completely change the rules of the game. I turn an athletic contest into a thinking man’s competition, and in THAT realm… I’m untouchable.
So you tell the world that this is your match to take, Seth. Tell anybody who will listen that Chuck Matthews is past his prime, that he doesn’t have what it takes anymore. Meanwhile? I’ll be doing what I do best. Now you tell me, Mr. Problem Solver:
How do you intend to solve that?”
