The scene fades in on a dusty old studio set. Thick cobwebs hang from the ceiling and most of the furniture, and a layer of dust covers everything. Here and there old panels in the walls have fallen away to allow weak beams of sunlight to illuminate the gloom.
The camera pans over to reveal two worn out old chairs in front of a tattered backdrop emblazoned with what was once a bright and garish logo for “The Manhole”. Suddenly there is a high pitched wail from somewhere beyond the backdrop.
Marks: “What the hell has happened to my Manhole?! There’s dust everywhere… I don’t think anybody has penetrated this room for a very, very long time.”
“Sexy” Simon Marks, former Hostility superstar, emerges from behind the backdrop, running a finger over the “O” in “Manhole” and tutting at the dust on his finger.
Marks: "After nearly ten long, long years, I will once again grace a wrestling ring with my presence at Hostile Intentions. This is an event that I did not foresee ever happening again… but here we are. I have spent the last few years doing what I do best; injecting a healthy dose of fabulous into wherever I happen to be.”
Still images are displayed on screen; Marks at Mardi Gras dressed in beads and feathers, Marks on the red carpet after starring in a small-budget coming-of-age drama and finally, Marks dressed in tight yellow spandex at Burning Man.
Marks: “It’s ironic that I have found myself fighting again. When I was a child I joined a youth rugby team, put on a faux British accent and got my ass kicked. When I was a teenager I joined a street gang and started calling myself a “gangsta”. Again, I got my ass kicked. Becoming a wrestler seemed almost like a natural transition after that, except I wasn’t getting my ass kicked anymore. No, it turns out that I was quite a good professional wrestler. Hostility provided me an excellent platform to preach two of my favorite messages to the entire world; firstly, it’s okay to be gay! And secondly…”
Marks grins wickedly and gingerly opens his jacket to reveal a battered razorwire dildo, a favorite weapon of several members of the Hostility roster.
Marks: “Nothing quite says I love you like performing a prostate check with a razorwire dildo.”
With a shrug, Marks tosses the dildo over his shoulder. It clatters away into the darkness of the Manhole set, and somewhere something crashes to the ground.
Marks: “At Civil War I will wrestle the man known only as Azrael… someone who I’m going to assume wasn’t hugged enough as a child and never quite managed to grow out of his goth phase in the mid to late nineties. It’s a shame, because I was hoping for someone cute in my first match back. It’s not a total loss though, if I turn him around so I don’t have to look at his face I can pretend while I’m ever so delicately handling his oiled limbs and stimulating each and every pulsing muscle in his tight little body.”
Marks giggles to himself at the thought.
Marks: “Azrael, sweetie, don’t take it personally when I beat you and leave you ass-up in front of the screaming crowd. I don’t mind it if things get a little rough after all, but when everything is said and done bad boys need to be spanked and you have most definitely been oh-so-bad."
Marks winks and blows the camera a kiss.
Marks: "December 18th. Civil War. “Sexy” Simon Marks returns to the ring for one night only… can you say F-A-B-U-L-O-U-S?! Oh, and one last thing…”
The camera zooms in on Simon’s face, focusing entirely on his garishly pink lips. Marks runs his tongue over his almost too perfectly white teeth.
Marks: “CWF, get ready… because the bitch is back.”
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."