The following Public Service Announcement is brought to you by the Public Health Organization.
The first thing you see in this PSA is a needle being driven into a child’s shoulder. A thumb comes around and presses the end inward, the drug held within being forced through it’s cylinder into the suspecting patient’s shoulder. As the scene fades backwards into a blur, “The All Star” Gavin Taylor steps out, dressed in a tie-less suit. He tents his hands in front of his stomach as he faces the camera, his ever-present shit-eating grin on his face.
“Hi – I’m “The All Star” Gavin Taylor, and I’m here today to talk to you about something very simple. Something so simple, even an ape would be able to understand it. Are you dumber than an ape? Did you watch the old Tarzan show and think “That Cheetah isn’t such a good ally to have”? Did you then stop to question why the hell an ape was named “Cheetah”? I did. Because, as you know, apes and cheetahs are two completely different animals. The only thing they have in common is that they’re both mammals.”
A muffled director’s voice can be heard and, although specifics aren’t known, the idea that Gavin has been asked to move along or get back on track is painfully obvious. Gavin looks off camera in the perceived direction of the director and nods his head, mouthing “right”.
“So, every year America is hit with an epidemic. Not just America, but Canada too. But mostly America. And that epidemic is called “The Flu”. Now the flu is such a terrible illness that he can be transmitted by doing something as simple as breathing near each other. But there’s something you can do. As little Gavin back there did, you can get…”
Gavin turns, facing another camera with a hokey smile on his face.
“A flu shot.”
A graphic comes onto the screen for flu shots. A voice plays out over the scene… “Flu shots… a small prick to not be a big prick.”
..…………………………………………………………………………….
The scene rises up inside a boardroom. A couple of executives sit nervously by the television as the commercial stops. They stare to the end of the table, where “All Star” Gavin Taylor can be seen sitting, hands parsed over his chin, surveying the commercial that had just run. He tilts a head to the left first, then the right, without any apparent purpose. Flanking either side of him are Jack and Karl Barker, the All-Star Security, and just down from there is Ava St. Claire, his agent. Gavin mumbles lightly, taking a sip from a glass of water in front of him. Surveying the glass, he swirls the water.
“Hmm, good water,” he says, possibly the only thing that impressed him. For the first time, Gavin was actually pretty tough to read.
“What is it with you and water lately?” Ava asks earnestly. It was a fair question. Gavin takes the water and sets it back down on the table.
“Just refreshing, is all,” he responds in imperfect English. “Besides, what better way to quench one’s thirst than with water? I’m not like all those other “athletes” who will hit the club and poison themselves with alcohol or any other dangerous behaviour consistent with the party atmosphere. Did you know there’s a picture out there of Kandis and some other chick with what looks like a 1980’s stoner in a hot tub?”
“Gavin…” Ava tries to interject, but Gavin will have none of it.
“No, it’s true,” Gavin insists. “It’s like you could tell the old guy was higher than a kite. Me? My body is a temple and worship occurs on a nightly basis if you know what I mean.”
Jack and Karl high five each other over Gavin’s joke, although they held no ownership of it. They’re security guards, not comedy writers.
“Well,” Gavin smirks. “Maddie certainly knows.”
Gavin winks in the direction of a non-existent camera. Ava looks over in the direction he winked at… “Who are you winking at?”
“Believe me,” Gavin says as he looks in the direction of the non-camera. “Maddie may not be here, but she caught the wink.”
ELSEWHERE…
Madison Chase-Taylor and Arnie Brunschweiger are off filming a new Dependables movie. They are up on a ten foot platform, Madison sitting off the edge of it while Arnie is standing in a makeshift helicopter. As they set, Maddie reaches up, taking Arnie’s forearm and sliding off further.
Director: “Aaaaaaaand ACTION!”
The greenscreen comes on, making it look like Arnie and Maddie are in a helicopter. Wind machines kick in, creating a desperate scene where Arnie attempts to save Maddie from falling out of a helicopter. As Maddie struggles desperately and convincingly, she suddenly winks, as if on instinct.
Director: “Cut! Madison… are you winking?”
“Anyway, Gavin,” Ava attempts to get the meeting back on track after watching it become derailed by her client. “These gentlemen are waiting for your input on the PSA.”
“Oh that?” Gavin asks, almost deriding it. “It was an after-school special. It was a basic message. I mean, “Little Gavin”? Are the audience supposed to think that I somehow travelled in time? Or that I have a bastard son I named after myself? I don’t have a bastard son. There’s nothing about me that’s “bastard”. Believe me… someone else has that trademark, and I’m not one to encroach on trademarks.”
“But, Gavin,” one of the businessmen chimes in, commanding all eyes in the room to turn to the interloper. Gavin stands up, pointing out at him,
“No, Loudermouth,” he says, a clear reference to the movie Scrooged with Bill Murray. “There is no “but, Gavin” here. When I agreed to do this PSA and read your little script, I did so with the knowledge that I would not be made to look like a fool. Putting me in front of a greenscreen to read lines was one thing. But looking at what you put behind me? That’s not my style. What’s next… having me on a billboard telling impotent losers how to get their rocks off? That’s not my style. I let other people handle that business… athletes who aren’t good enough to get by on talent. Do I look like I need something else to get myself over?”
“Well,” the second one starts, but again gets cut off.
“No, I don’t,” Gavin says, answering his own question. “You give these things to people who are either past their prime or need the boost. I am neither, bonehead! I recorded your lines because I’m a team player. But your lines frankly sucked.”
“Well, what did you have in mind?” they finally ask him. Gavin scoffs.
“Look, I’m an athlete,” Gavin says. “It’s not my job to be creative for you. It’s my job to be great. And that’s what I am. That’s what I do. And that’s what I’ll always do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do with my time. Jack, Karl, let’s go. Ava, send these men the bill and make sure it’s all committed. Not a penny less.”
“Gavin,“ Ava attempts to reason with the unreasonable. Gavin has none of it.
“Not. A. Penny. Less,” he repeats emphatically. Gavin stands up and heads for the exit, his A.S.S. behind him. As they exit, Ava looks sheepishly at the two men.
“So do you want to cut a cheque?” she asks. “Or do you have cash on hand?”
..…………………………………………………………………………….
[REC.]
“No one understands what it’s like to be the All-Star. They think it’s all glitz and glamour. Red carpets. Star-shaped name badges on locker-rooms. But they don’t understand that behind all of that, underneath of what you see on SCW television, there is a man… not just any man, but the greatest of men.
When I joined SCW officially, new contract in hand, I did so knowing that I would be a target. And why not? The All-Star demands attention, and attention is what I instantly received from not one, not two, but three members of the roster, and for what? A little splash of water on the face of an “old friend”? I gave my word that boiling liquids were in my past and yet I was treated as though I threatened to use exactly that. I am a man of my word. My word? My word is my bond. When I told Kandis on Twitter that the only thing I use boiling liquids for now are to make the hot lemon drink I use to keep my throat healthy, I meant that. To imply… to fear that would violate my word in such a manner is insulting. So yeah, as she scrambled around trying to figure out that the obviously lukewarm liquid wasn’t scalding her, I got a bit upset and reminded her of a simple fact…
Real men… use lariats.
That must have insulted Tommy Valentine and Ryan Watson because suddenly, they take up some kind of issue with me. And really, it would hurt more if I expected better, but being the All-Star means that I am used to their brand of pettiness and jealousy. I know that they only acted out of hormonal complications. They wanted to prove that they are the big gorillas… the king lions… they wanted to wag their dicks out in front of Kandis without realizing that there’s probably as much genuine about her body as there is about her association with Valentine. I mean, come on… “Big Ass and Jack Ass”? If there wasn’t a truer name…
But while I could sit here all day and run my mouth about those two, I really only need to sit here and run my mouth about one of them. Kandis. It’s really simple, isn’t it? She never got over that her last match in EMERGE was a loss at my hands. After all of her talk… everything she had to say about how much better than me she was. She beat me non-title. I beat her with the gold up. Congrats, Kandy. You have a moral victory. I prefer real victories. Then at the turn of the new year, I appeared in this little invitational battle royal and, like her personal Beetlejuice, I threw Kandis out again. She just can’t seem to get one over on me. Why? Because I am just that good. For all of her talk… all of the trash she speaks about me – and believe me, if anyone is well-versed in trash, it’s Kandy – for everything she has to say, I simply perform better. I’m sure that it eats her up inside knowing that, especially knowing that those around her can’t perform to my level.
Sorry, Tommy… facts be facts. Oh, and while you’re listening, good luck taking on Bree. If you manage to luck your way to the US Title, maybe I’ll entertain giving you the crack at me you want… only with the gold up, of course. I don’t work for free.
As for the rest of us, Kandy… you and I go way back. All the way back to EMERGE. You stood aside Drake Hemingway oblivious to the fact that he was never looking at you. “Purity” and whatever the hell you represent are incompatible. But I remember especially the way you would gloat after beating me. You got all uppity whenever a card came out and you weren’t set to challenge me for my title. And maybe you were right to be so upset. Maybe you had a point. But did you ever ask me to vouch for you getting a shot? If you had, maybe it would not have been under the sudden streetfight rules that allowed hot water to be used.
You see, everyone, when Kandis tells you that I did some unspeakable evil by using boiled water against her, she’s not telling you that she wasn’t this poor, innocent victim. She was an equal participant in the match. Her bitterness comes from being beat when it counted. I beat her when it mattered most: MY title on the line. MY words needing to be backed. And I did so on a night where I could have faced anyone… except for two: Jenni Helms, and Peyton Rice. My fellow CHAMPIONS.
The peak of EMERGE. But those days are behind us. We’re here. It’s Supreme Championship Wrestling. And I’m not looking to be the low guy on the totem pole. I’m the top of the pole… and I know Kandis would…
Nope… not going there.
Kandis, we’ve been going at this for over a year now. It’s time for closure. And maybe when I beat you at Under Attack, you’ll finally be able to sit back and accept the fact that Gavin Taylor is and always has been better than you. I hope you can. I want that for you. Because holding on to your bitterness and your jealousy and your lies at my expense can’t be good for you. It certainly won’t attract the kind of men you aspire to. You’ll be forced to settle for the kind of men you attract now. And really… ew.
As for the rest of Supreme Championship Wrestling, I know you’ve had your chuckles. You’ve seen the All-Star stumble out of the blocks because of jealousy and petty attacks, but after I move on from Kandy, I’m going to start moving up… you know what that’s about, right? The grand stage… the whole enchilada, the main event… the only place worthy of an athlete of my calibre.
Because I am the All-Star… the Franchise Player… the MVP of Life… the Greatest Wrestler in the Universe… the Real-World Jedi… Professional Wrestling’s Kwisatz Haderach… the Man Who Would Be King… the History Maker… the Obscenely Naturally Talented…
It doesn’t matter what you call me. I am Gavin Taylor… and I am ALL THAT!”
"The All-Star" Gavin Taylor 