The scene opens up on a cold, wet and dark evening sky. Atop of an old factory building lies a well-lit modern looking sky bar. The bar is no ordinary sky bar. This one is perched upon a building of huge significance. The Guinness Factory. A building that has been around since 1904 and has been part of the city of Dublin and Ireland’s history ever since. As the camera zooms in toward the bar, we see it is occupied by around 30 or so guests, partying the night away.
The camera view switches to inside the bar, looking down at the patrons from the top of its walls. The bar is in the centre of the building. The hum of drunken conversation and laughter is in the air. But what is striking is that each and every person in the room is wearing exactly the same plain white t-shirt with #FreeMikeyUnlikely splashed across the front of it in Red Letters. Above their heads is a banner sprawled across the top of the bar area stating the same hashtag. Amongst the drunken hum in the air we hear two loud bumps of a microphone, signalling for the DJ to cut the music, followed by an all too familiar brash welcome;
The incumbents all turn to face none other than Jesse Fredericks Kendrix with their glasses raised in the air accompanied by various forms of delighted cheering and applause. Kendrix, dressed in his own Irish Green t-shirt with the same hashtaged message across it in white, a smart black blazer and tight fitting jeans with smart black shoes, is standing by the bar. With a microphone in one hand, now out by his side with a cheesy grin on his face, the other is planted on the bar as he leans on it. Bringing the mic back to his mouth he addresses his audience;
Kendrix: Listen, yeah…settle down, settle down…Dave, stop trying it on with Sharon, she’s a married woman, ya bellend!
The bar erupts in laughter. Kendrix pats his hand down out in front of him a few times, gesturing for his audience to quieten down;
Kendrix: Classic, Dave! But seriously, Ladies and bruvs, it’s an absolute pleasure having JFK’s friends and family here with him today. Here, in the only decent place in this god forsaken, potato famine riddled, drunkard and peasant living, city of Dublin;
More applause ripples around the bar accompanied by some loud whistles and a cry of “You said it bruv” directed towards Kendrix from someone in the crowd. All the while, the local barman, whose name tag says Dougal, stares at Kendrix with a bemused look on his face due to the gall of the man to say what he just said about his dear city. Kendrix looks over at him and gestures towards the tap;
Kendrix: Don’t just stand there like a leprechaun, Douglas! Pour JFK a pint, innit?!
Looking back out at the crowd as Douglas begrudgingly wonders off to collect a glass, Kendrix brings the mic to his mouth once more;
Kendrix: JFK is truly humbled that his friends and family have all made the short trip from London to Dublin and signed up to the most righteous of all causes. A cause that THE WORLD... is talking about…hashtag Free…Mikey…Unlikely!
Another round of applause and cheers of “JFK JFK JFK” fill the bar.
Kendrix: Not only have you signed up to make your voices heard…you have generously donated over Three thousand actual English pounds to the cause.
More applause followed by obnoxious cheers bellow throughout the room;
Kendrix: All of which will be put towards OUR PETITION...to free the world’s greatest entertainer…IN THE WORLD…from the evil Victory compound that is holding him hostage from his family!
Cheers echo throughout the building as Kendrix holds his arms aloft in the air. Grabbing his freshly poured pint of Guinness out of the clutches of Dougal, he raises his glass to salute his people before taking a sip out of it. Retreating away from the bar into a backroom, he leaves his congregation in high spirits as the tunes of George Michael’s “Freedom” play in the background.
The camera switches into the dark backroom, where JFK sits in a chair in front of a desk with the desk lamp switched on. The camera zooms in closer as JFK retrieves an envelope from his inside blazer pocket. The envelope has the words “bellend’s cash” written across it in ink. Kendrix opens it up and removes a hefty wad of cash in front of his face, smirking at it before setting it down on the desk in front of him as he looks at the camera;
Kendrix: Gotta love family and friends. Always willing to back JFK. And who can blame them really? They’ve known JFK long enough to understand the greatness that you all see before your very eyes. They’ve been a part of JFK’s life for so long that they know inspiration and greatness when they see it. So much so, that they part with their cold hard cash to line his pockets…
Shifting his eyes quickly he doubles back quickly;
Kendrix: Uhh….JFK means, the hashtag free Mikey Unlikely petition’s pockets…yeah, that’ll do.
Looking away as he corrects himself, he puts the money back in the envelope, back inside his blazer pocket. Removing his Blazer he hangs it up on the chair he sits on before resting his feet out on the desk in front of him as he looks back at the camera;
Kendrix: Which is more than JFK can say for the idiots who are apparently running Wrestleshow…that buffoon, Cecilworth Farthington and his bumbling uncle, Barty…
Shaking his head he grabs out at his pint to the left of him on the desk and takes a swig. Placing it down from where it came he wipes his mouth and beard with the back of his hand before refocusing on the camera;
Kendrix: Harsh you may think...but let’s look at the facts. Wrestleshow Forty Six, Cairo, CBR versus JFK. The Master against the Apprentice. The match that THE WORLD...wanted to see. It was a wrestling MASTERPIECE...A SHOW FOR THE AGES! If any young aspiring wrestler needed further proof of what the greatest job on earth is then a video of this match is all you would need to show them.
He modestly holds his hands out wide, accepting his own description of events;
Kendrix: JFK had CBR right where he wanted him. Yeah he was being taught a lesson, but as usual, JFK adapts to every situation thrown at him. You know it, JFK knows it…
Looking away momentarily in disgust he strokes his beard before removing his feet from the desk and leaning into the desk with his arms folded across each other, focused on the lens;
Kendrix: And Chris Hopper knew it. CHRIS HOPPER...couldn't stand the fact that JFK was on his way to become the number one contender for the UTA Legacy Title. CHRIS HOPPER...couldn't stand the fact that JFK was on his way to achieve what Chris Hopper has never achieved during his time in the UTA.
He lets out a dismissive chuckle, raising his eyebrows;
Kendrix: Chris Hopper...couldn't stand the fact that JFK was on his way to DEFEAT…John Sektor and claim his first title in the UTA.
Looking up away from the lens he closes his eyes, taking in what could have been;
Kendrix: So Chris does what only a coward would do. For no reason at all, he PURPOSELY...gets JFK disqualified by punching Claude square in his beautiful face.
Slamming his fist down on the table he looks angrily toward the lens, his cheeks puffed out and face reddening. Looking down at the desk to compose himself he looks back up and takes a swig of his pint, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he continues;
Kendrix: Daylight robbery. THE FUTURE...of the UTA was robbed of his chance to make history and forge his legacy. And what do the clueless imbeciles in charge do? They turn a blind eye to the atrocity that took place. Not only do they rub their hands together by holding the future of the business back…
He shakes his head in disbelief, shrugging his shoulders in the process;
Kendrix: They waste JFK's time, DYNASTY'S TIME...by putting himself and CBR, the guy with the most wins in the company...in a tag match against two guys who not only are making their UTA debuts...but look like they've literally walked into the company off of the streets of Rednecksville!
Leaning forward and looking intently at the lens, his eyes widen;
Kendrix: Seriously lads? You actually think Luke and Duke Dibbins are not only befitting, BUT WORTHY...of a match against Dynasty?
Leaning back in his chair he laughs off his last comment before covering his mouth with his hand in an effort to stop chuckling. Simultaneously he rests his feet onto his right side of the desk;
Kendrix: Now, now Cecil, JFK understands, you're new to the job. You're bound to make a few school boy errors here and there. Especially with your track record…
Looking back at the camera he opens his mouth in apparent shock, opening his eyes wide before relaxing into a smirk;
Kendrix: It's not the first mistake you've made Cecil now is it. Perhaps your last mistake wasn't your fault, perhaps you were easily misled by the company you kept? Quite frankly, JFK doesn't care. The first mistake you made was when you actually joined a group of people who, for some reason, thought that they could end Dynasty?
Scrunching his lips and nose up he shifts his eyes quickly from left to right, apparently confused with why anyone would think that could happen, let alone try to make it happen;
Kendrix: That was a good one, I'll give you that...oh boy, we all had a good chuckle at that one…
Pointing his index finger at the lens he throws a smile and a wink for good measure before laying his arms out on the armrests, looking away from the camera;
Kendrix: JFK will give you your dues, bruv. You had the UTA and the idiot fans believing in The Machine for a little while. That is, until reality set in and broke Alex Beckman's arm and sent your leader home with his tail between his legs.
Throwing his legs off the table and planting them down on the ground he leans forward on the desk once more;
Kendrix: And you, well, you realised you couldn't get your revenge on Dynasty physically all by yourself now could you...so you throw your briefcase around and get yourself a cushty little office job in order to exact your revenge on us.
He nods intently at the lens, raising his eyebrows;
Kendrix: Unfortunately for you though Cecil, you're not exactly the sharpest tool in the box. And how fitting it is, that you put two slack jawed yokels before JFK and CBR. Two guys who combined probably have the same amount of brain cells as your good self.
As he rolls his eyes he shakes his head before taking a final swig of his pint. Looking back at the lens, he continues;
Kendrix: Luke and Duke Dibbens...Now JFK admits, he knows little about you both except that you're scummy redneck brothers from the arse end of quite possibly the worst country on the face of the earth. JFK knows that at Wrestleshow Forty Seven, at the Aviva Stadium in Dublin, Ireland...you're out to impress. You've nothing to lose as you get the chance to showcase your…
Using his fingers on both hands to sarcastically and questionably signify quotation marks;
Shaking his last thought off, he refocuses;
Kendrix: In front of the entire world...against two men belonging to the greatest group there has ever been in this business.
He rudely holds two fingers up at the camera;
Kendrix: The Canadian Superstar, CBR and The Future of the UTA...JFK.
Holding his arms out by his side in presentable fashion, he winks at the camera;
Kendrix: Now JFK isn't going to criticise you anymore Cecil. Despite your ridiculous decision to make this match out of vengefulness...JFK would like to thank you.
Opening his mouth and widening his eyes in shock once more he exaggeratingly looks away from the camera and back, all the while holding the same look on his face;
Kendrix: JFK would like to thank you for making this match Cecil, for two reasons.
Rudely holding his middle finger up at the camera he continues;
Kendrix: Reason number one. You’ve FINALLY...given JFK and CBR the biggest challenge outside of Dynasty that they’ve ever had…
Momentarily chuckling at his last comment he rudely accompanies his middle finger with his index finger, again held up at the lens;
Kendrix: But more importantly, reason number two...JFK has been in a fowl, FOWL…mood for almost two weeks now and he can't think of a better way to let out all of his aggression on two hillbilly low lives.
He rubs his hands together in anticipation;
Kendrix: Two stupid, uneducated, smelly, lazy, trailer living and least of all, UGLY...scum bags who fittingly represent everything there is to hate about not only the Irish tynker drunkards sitting in the Aviva Stadium on Monday night...but who represent regular Americans.
Clapping his hands together he holds them in prayerful fashion, nodding towards the camera as a mark of thanks;
Kendrix: Duke, Luke...On behalf of Dynasty, let JFK and CBR be the first to welcome you both to the UTA at Wrestleshow Forty Seven...When we are done with you it will be the last time you’re invited back….
Leaning back into his chair he hovers his hand over the lamp switch;
Kendrix: The future has spoken…
Darkness hits and the feed cuts.