Post by Graham Clauson on May 31, 2021 17:59:12 GMT -5
Uploaded to YouTube on May 31, 2021
Video Title: “Honors Algebra II”
[ The video fades into a still-camera position from black. What appears to be in a parking lot of a warehouse with a glass window-front on it, with a logo for the business displayed clearly on it. This scene appears very familiar, but the picture is from a different vantage point and it is clearly darker outside than before. We are back at the DWA building, a bit of text appearing at the bottom left. ]
DWA - Dayton Wrestling Academy | Dayton, OH
April 21, 2021 | 7:47 PM Eastern Daylight
[ After a few moments of this text being displayed, the scene cuts to inside the building. The camera is focused on the unknown man who had quickly walked away from the Shoot Kings crew upon his entrance, identified to be Graham’s father, Matt Clauson. Sitting at his office desk, he clearly got a few files out and open on his desk in a hurried effort to appear busy. A knock is heard at the door. Matt quickly grabs a pen and begins to write down on a piece of nearby paper, only glancing up just enough to acknowledge there was a knock. The door opens, Matt ignoring this as well.
The camera focus changes to behind Matt, showing Graham standing in the doorframe staring at his father. A short moment of silence between the two occurs, Matt still ignoring Graham as he walks in and shuts the door. Graham, turning around, stares at his father awaiting...something to be said or occur from him, but that doesn’t manifest. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: So… This is what we are doing, old man?
[ Matt stops writing for a moment, not bringing his pen off the paper. He looks up at Graham, locking eyes with him for a few seconds, before then looking back down and continuing to write. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: Keeping up the silent treatment, huh? I was coming in here to actually talk to you, maybe...you know, act like an actual human being? But, if you want to keep acting like a petulant little bitch, I can come back later.
[ Matt snaps up from the office desk, surprisingly quickly, dropping what he was doing and gets in Graham’s face. ]
[ Matt Clauson ]: I am still your father; and I will still whoop your ass, boy. Talk about me like that again…
[ Graham smirks at this comment, defiant to his father’s incoming threat. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: Like you, threatening me with physical discipline has stopped me since I was a teenager. Do we need a reminder...
[ Graham’s head cocks slightly, clearly unsure if his father would try to legitimately brawl with him. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: ...sir?
[ Matt audibly huffs an exhale in annoyance with his son, choosing to turn around and go back to what he was doing. ]
[ Matt Clauson ]: You can go back to whatever the hell you’re all doing, there isn’t anything for us to discuss at the moment.
[ Graham Clauson ]: Oh, there isn’t?! Like the fact that this is the first conversation we’ve had in months, let alone the first we’re having in person since the pandemic hit? That you basically have not spoken to me since we found out Jeremy was actually alive, and especially since I got married?!
[ Matt Clauson ]: JUST SHUT UP!
[ Matt’s hands raise, open palms. It’s almost as if he’s trying to avoid the confrontation. ]
[ Matt Clauson ]: Just...please, shut up and go about your business, son? Please? This is not the time for this conversation, and neither of us are truly ready to have it.
[ Graham Clauson ]: There we go, typical Matt - run off whenever a confrontation comes around!
[ Matt Clauson ]: You want a confrontation? Then let me go ahead and call the cops so I can leave here without getting shot!
[ Matt stands up, slamming his hands on the office desk as the last words exit his mouth. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: I DIDN’T KNOW HE WAS CARRYING HEAT!
[ Matt Clauson ]: Graham, it’s Jeremy! Are you turning a blind eye on purpose, or are you that fucking naïve to the fact he's straight up about using thuggery to get his way? I heard him running his mouth, I know he wants to put a bullet in my noggin’ and it’s because you ran your mouth without knowing everything! I may not come out alive tonight because of your mouth!
[ Graham Clauson ]: WHY DO YOU THINK I’M IN HERE?!
[ Awkward silence transpires for a brief second, the two seemingly waiting to see which one will speak up next. Graham takes the initiative. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: Do you think I really want to come in here and have a full-out brawl? Shit, he expects to walk in here and see you knocked the fuck out in before he comes in here in, and I know you - if you think you can’t diplomatically get your way out, you’ll throw the first strike without any second thought.
[ Graham looks over at the clock that's in the room. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: Jeremy probably would walk in here within the next five minutes if we’re not at least actually trying to talk shit out. You may be pissed at him, but he’s pissed at you because you’re the one who’s been avoiding even talking to me about Ken. I may have actually threatened to call the Drag Queen Swarm on Jay if he even tried.
[ Matt rolls his eyes at this mention, apparently knowing of this inside reference involving Jeremy and Drag Queens having a...desire to do things to Jeremy that Jeremy would consider to be unwanted advances. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: But, unless we’re in here all kumbaya and shit, he’s gonna be thinking he’s running Call of Duty Black Ops VR and your son-in-law really doesn’t want your first meeting to be with you as a corpse. I’m tired of fighting with you, if that’s what this is, Dad. We lost Mom, we don’t need to lose each other over things we can’t truly control. Can we please just let this stupid shit go before one of us is dead holding a grudge?
[ Matt sighs, sitting in silence and looking at Graham for a brief moment. ]
[ Matt Clauson ]: ...so, did you take his last name?
[ Graham Clauson ]: Hyphenated, but yes.
[ Matt Clauson ]: You’re the wife, but he flips out at possible gunpoint?
[ Graham Clauson ]: Fuck you.
[ Both of them laugh at this, Matt standing up and coming back around the desk. He approaches Graham and gives him a hug, which Graham appeared to not expect. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: Sorry… Not just for everything, but because I’m still a little sweaty from out there.
[ Matt releases his embrace, putting his hands on Graham’s shoulders for a moment...before he swiftly slaps the taste out of Graham out of nowhere. He then points at Graham as Graham stumbles slightly to the side. ]
[ Matt Clauson ]: Next time, don’t run your mouth and let me sort my shit out first.
[ Graham holds his jaw, moving it around. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: Okay, I deserved that…
[ Matt Clauson ]: You’re damn right, you did. Maybe we can all go grab a late meal and get on the same page? I think we’re all long overdue to sit down and sort this shit out properly.
[ Graham Clauson ]: You’re buying.
[ Matt Clauson ]: Why should I buy it?
[ Graham Clauson ]: Call it a late wedding gift for the bride, dad...
[ Matt and Graham begin to walk towards the office doorway. ]
[ Matt Clauson ]: ...fine, but don’t be calling me up whining for help with getting some of the stuff in that new home you all bought fixed up.
[ Graham Clauson ]: Oh, come on! You don't want to help out your only daughter?
[ Matt laughs at this. ]
[ Matt Clauson ]: Hey, you low-balled yourself there...not my fault you didn’t think big. Hey…
[ As Graham is getting ready to open the door to exit, Matt grabs Graham by the shoulder to stop him and spins him around. ]
[ Matt Clauson ]: Look, let’s get this sorted first between you and I. The fact that you’re gay doesn’t bother me one bit! If I viewed being gay as making someone plausibly evil in nature, why the fuck would I have asked for your Uncle and his partner to essentially raise you while your mother and I were working wrestling tours overseas so you had a mostly stable home environment?
[ Graham, hearing this, appears a little ashamed of himself. Matt continues to speak. ]
[ Matt Clauson ]: That’s just icing on why I’ve been disappointed in you recently. What bothers me is you couldn’t have even reached out to tell me that you thought you may be after realizing you were falling for the guy. Who did you tell first? Your Uncle. I get why now...but I’m willing to get past all of that.
You and I were much closer than we ever were after your mother passed, you're right. But, you’re the one that shut me out once Jeremy died supposedly. You need to quit acting like that’s my problem and that I need to extend an olive branch to your husband because you want to be pissed at me for your insecurities. You’re way off-base there, Graham, and you fucking know it. You’re my son, and I haven’t stopped having your back just because you’ve made stupid decisions at times in your life. Got it?
[ Graham nods. ]
[ Matt Clauson ]: You know I’m pissed at the toothpick wielding heat in my gym for the shit he’s put you through in your life, and you know I have a strict no firearms policy on this property because I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Now, call off your zombie familiar out there first.
[ Graham Clauson ]: He’s not a zombie. He’s a lich.
[ Matt chuckles as Graham opens the door from the lich comment, but Jeremy is standing right at the door with two guns pointed right at Matt. Matt suddenly recoils back, covering himself up. However, Jeremy begins spraying him down...with water. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: GOTCHA, BITCH!
[ After a few more squirts, Matt looks at Jeremy with evil intent in his eyes. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: Look, it was water or cat piss, be happy I didn’t choose to actually shoot your polar bear ass dead.
[ Jeremy walks off from the doorway, Matt suddenly sniffing himself to make sure Jeremy didn’t actually use cat piss as the scene cuts to black. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: Next time you got beef with me, Old Man, bring it directly to me - I got the damn roast pan. Fuck…
[ From black, the scene fades back into the outside of a rather nice looking two-story home, we see another timestamp appear at the bottom left. ]
Clauson-Felder Residence | Columbus, OH
May 29, 2021 | 4:18 PM Eastern Daylight
[ Inside the home, we see Graham sitting in a recliner chair that isn’t reclined, appearing to take a sip of whatever is in an insulated cup. Jeremy walks in and approaches Graham, dropping a small packet close to Graham on the nearby coffee table. Graham looks down at the document briefly, but back up to Jeremy. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: So...what the fuck is this supposed to be?
[ Graham picks up the document for a second, noticing it has some medical headers at the top, indicating this is clearly a medical document of sorts. He then quickly sets it back down, looking at Jeremy. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: Full transparency. It's the results from a full physical, I got it from someone who wasn't working for OPW just to make sure. There's every type of picture they could possibly take of my insides, lab results out the ass...
[ Jeremy steps around the coffee table and sits on the nearby sofa, pulling out a blunt from his pocket as he does so. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: Last time my health went to shit, I didn't tell you how I was doing. I'm not making that mistake again. Read up.
[ Graham no-sells Jeremy pointing towards the document, looking at the blunt specifically. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: So...you're saying it’s almost 4:20? Is the only thing you think about is weed? And I really don’t need to read your STD test, bruh...
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: No, dude. Read that shit. The cancer's not back, if anything.
[ Graham Clauson ]: Wow, some good news from you - for once.
[ Jeremy gasps, almost showing a false sense of horror. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: Did I just catch you showing some form of empathy? What have we talked about?!
[ Graham Clauson ]: Yeah, yeah...emotions are for babyfaces and Twitch HotTub streams.
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: I want you to know why I'm not in the ring with you…
[ As Jeremy says this, Graham sighs in annoyance and picks up the document. ]
Patient shows near full deterioration of cervical discs; surgery recommended...
Full deterioration of cartilage in right knee; replacement recommended...
Partial deterioration of cartilage in right hip...
Full deterioration of cartilage in right knee; replacement recommended...
Partial deterioration of cartilage in right hip...
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: ...and why I may very well never be.
[ Graham looks up, not looking terribly surprised at what he’s read thus far. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: Brother, I can heal from just about anything...but I can't regenerate something I don't have. I can't just grow new bones or ligaments. I ain’t Wolverine, or even Deadpool - although I fancy myself as the fuckin’ Canuck...
[ Graham Clauson ]: Explains why your body sounds like a bowl of Rice Krispies when you walk. Honestly, you should be god damn paralyzed, looking at this…and remember, my mom was Canadian? So, fuck you, you take that back.
[ Jeremy chuckles. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: Oh, the x-rays are much more spectacular in high definition - trust me. So...how's ‘Other Furball’ doin’?
[ Graham Clauson ]: He's honestly way better off than you would think, at least on the surface level. Losing against Clive didn't set him back...or, if anything, he’s not letting it appear that it is. But, if I recall anything of his loss against Paul...I better start up my fiber regiment again, I’m going to get destroyed...
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: He's not gonna make it to Jacksonville, though, is he?
[ Graham Clauson ]: He might. If anything, not gonna be on camera - that's a guarantee. Although he doesn’t look terrible after the fight, he’s a little bruised up in the face and clearly pissed at himself and bottling it up. We're lucky he's gonna even make the trip, he took some ibuprofen and went to bed as soon as we got home. He’s tough… Tougher than I give him credit sometimes.
[ Graham smiles slightly, clearly showing some pride in his spouse, but it fades quickly. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: But we can’t expect him to keep showing up and being there to help cover our backs, though… I brought him on board knowing that I have to let him keep fighting in the cage to keep things moving, or this is all for nothing.
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: 'ey b0ss, can I shoot straight with you?
[ Graham’s left eyebrow raises, but no audible cue is given for Jeremy to continue speaking. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: We got a numbers problem. We just don't have them.
[ Graham Clauson ]: Did I give you permission to spout nonsense at me?
[ Jeremy looks at Graham confused, clearly unsure where this response came from. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: We don't need more numbers! I'm tearing through everyone they're putting in front of me, and they're running out of jobbers. Eventually they have to give me one of their favorites. It’s only a matter of time. Asher and JJ were absolute jokes. It was a fucking showcase for me in that match, Ken was only there because it upped exposure for Johnny and gave us an extra paycheck.
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: And that's my point. Every single person at the top in OPW has a whole fuckin' entourage watching their cheeks. You got me, and Ken every so often. And I'm not very useful in a fight anymore.
[ Graham Clauson ]: Bullshit! Look at what just happened to Johnny! Dude is having a nice little vacation behind bars and his entire little Syndicate is imploding. Vhodka went off on his ass, then started dropping Skittles. Are we sure she isn’t that Lime Skittle account on Twitter? Or is that her little signal for the next marks for us to tackle?
[ Graham’s eyes widen, but anger is welling up. As Graham begins to speak, he picks up the packet that was handed to him, rolling it up slowly into a stick. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: Wait a second...is she some little fuckin’ nark that you dipped your dick into?! Because I ain’t going to have some double-agent nark on our team because you had to fuck something, Jeremy! You better not be showing me this document to try to cover your ass for some stupid mistake you pu-
[ Graham, with the packet now rolled up, smacks Jeremy over the head with it. The packet bounces off Jeremy’s head, bouncing enough to slip out of Graham’s grip. Jeremy simply stares at Graham, no-selling the hit. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: The only mistake I made was thinking Vincent Black was going to give you a one on one match. Don't look at me like I'm the one who's been giving you shit spots on the card!
[ Both men stare at each other, an awkward silence staredown occurring between them. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: Even then, if this is the best time for us to make a bigger move...there is one of you and one of me minus a good bit of my working parts. That's why my gun goes everywhere with me now for a reason. And I can't just shoot someone on live TV, even if it is HBO.
[ Jeremy begins to light the blunt that he pulled out. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: Isn’t it in the television contract with HBO that someone has to get kayfabe killed on the show at least once a year?
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: I'm just waiting for the Sesame Street crossover special…
[ Graham Clauson ]: Someone’s going to get Elmo to make a racial slur, aren’t they?
[ Jeremy has since lit the blunt, taking a deep hit before passing it along to Graham. Graham takes an even deeper hit before passing it back to Jeremy. Awkward silence, but the camera crew is stifling laughter that can be heard. On the screen, text appears at the bottom:
Fun Fact: Graham is actually half-Canadian by birth, and is also of Hispanic heritage on his mother’s side. Make a comment, homey, you may get smoked like this Pemex.
Graham cannot hold onto his hit any longer, expelling it with a violent cough. Jeremy begins to speak, but his volume is stifled as he is still trying to hold onto some of the smoke as he speaks. He looks like a slowly smoking chimney. ]
[ Jeremy Cundiff ]: You get my point. If anyone's gonna die tomorrow night, you're gonna have to be the one doing the killing and it's going to have to happen in the ring…
[ Jeremy lets the rest out, coughing himself rather hard. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: Oh…you want to see killing in the ring? Oh, bet... Trust me…
[ The words “Trust me...” echo and dissipate as scene cold-cuts to black. ]
The Hidden Interrogation Room | Location Unknown
May 30, 2021 | Time Unknown
[ The scene cold-cuts from black to show the location text at the bottom left, with an equation on a whiteboard can be seen up close…
The camera begins to zoom out from it, showing Graham staring at the equation. He runs his hand through his beard, him snarling somewhat as he stares it down. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: No matter what I do, the numbers won’t add up...it’s that simple…
[ Graham pulls out a gun and begins to shoot up the whiteboard, screaming out in anger as he begins to shoot wildly at it. After unloading a clip into it, he tosses the gun down on the interrogation table. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: I am in the prime of my career in what I can do, but the numbers at the top don’t add up to me being given the spot I deserve. Or, at least that’s what the current booking committee that runs Outlaw still seems to believe. Their choice of opponent after making a mockery of two of their young talents shows that they still have a little bit of cooking of the book going on upstairs. Even with Vhodka giving Johnny a wake-up call on broadcast wasn’t enough for some of them to stop huffing glue.
I’m still just a joke to this company, and it was clear how things went in Japan. I got a nice little bump in having two people who suck Johnny’s ass commentate my match, didn’t I? But, then they decided to rough up my best friend because he was trying to make a point that they just wanted to shit on me and push their kids. We may have walked out with the victory, but the intent was clearly there - it was a veiled attempt at a burial. You got away with it for the most part, but Vin-ereal Vhodka’s kids still didn’t make the cut. But your little ploy actually led me to a realization...
The first time this kind of bullshit happened, my best friend and I formed a tag team using a gimmick of using elements of that shit sandwich and turning it into gold. It ended up killing the place because it got too real. Then, it kept happening… Every place we went, we destroyed it. Either the company went into life support, found a way to bury us before we had a chance to get rolling, or them not wanting us to be anywhere near a spot of success was pissing off the fans that actually had our backs and wanted to see us compete.
The Shoot Kings were then eventually dubbed “Fedkillers”. We were that hot product on the market that everyone wanted to try, but was too good for the market. The consumer-base wasn’t ready for something that raw and open, and neither were the businesses that chose to carry us. We were told to dial it back, water-down our criticisms and play the corporate ball-game - make money for them, but fuck us because they had a different idea of what we should be. And this was upsetting for me, because I was the guy going “But the fans actually like us, why do these places not understand how to book or market us when we’re doing most of that work for them?”
That’s because we were too worried about becoming everyone’s favorite and not realizing that we were essentially a literal form of cancer to every company we went to because we weren’t marketable in the traditional sense. We would see how inept they handled their roster relations with creative and the guys running the show, and the place would die or purge us like a chemo treatment.
How ironic that one of us ended up getting cancer and dying, huh? But, why didn’t I see it all along that what I needed to do was BE the walking form of wrestling cancer? Because I was too busy doing things the right way to get what was being given out to everyone else but me. I should’ve been doing what I’m doing now - taking the respect and accolades you’ve denied me by whatever means necessary. I’ve played nice, I’ve let you all have your fun in the Immortal Title scene.
Johnny has spent his time in a jail cell and isn’t calling every shot right now in the place, this gives the Shoot Kings an opportunity to make some headway without worrying about the standard corporate stable bullshit that takes place. Or, at least your booking committee thinks the status quo is going to keep you all going. So, let me spell out how things are going to go from here for you all in Outlaw going forward. And I want you all to listen to what I’m about to say, because this is a declaration of a hostile takeover:
This match with Noelle? You all are seriously high on some good-good. I’ve essentially embarrassed two of the foster kids from Shazam. Must not have been enough for you all to give me this one. This is the last time you insult me by booking me against your enhancement talent in an effort to toughen them up. I am not your fucking coach, Vinny, and I’m beyond insulted that you think that The Kingpin here is going to let you order me around.
But, you’ve made a compelling point with this booking without having to even say it out loud. It’s clear I’m going to have to become that Fedkiller Cancer to get you all to respect me before you take my demands seriously. I’m one guy that’s occasionally accompanied by his beast of a spouse and his lame-ass best friend who can’t even take a full bump without possibly being a quadriplegic. You all are a large group… Why in the fuck do I think that I can take this on and get the stranglehold on this company that I’m going to accomplish?
Because we Cincinnatians are certifiably insane in some fashion, and we don’t back down until we’re left unconscious or dead. And like cancer, I want to thrive. So, how am I going to do that?
Numbers. It all comes back down to numbers. And my brain is tired of trying to figure this fucking Honors Algebra II shit out. I play by the rules of gratuitous violence that doesn’t always require multiple parties to deploy, but I do know how to play the wargames too.
You have the numbers game right now. Cancer likes to sink itself in hard, and you have a decent crew in size. Taking out Asher or JJ would be way too easy and not even worth the effort, let alone I could make their dicks rip off from the force of that Orange Crush Powerbomb if I actually put more torque into it, so why bother taking them out? No… Take out the one that matters. You both seem to like Noelle in some fashion, although she doesn’t give a shit about anything. She’s the one, if any of the kids, that would matter...
So, you book me against Noelle, and you make sure it isn’t the curtain-jerker spot. Smart, at least what I intend to do to her won’t go down in the first ten minutes of the show - I’m going to make sure HBO has to cut off the feed, because Noelle will at least give me a much better fight than her foster siblings did… I’ve chased a bitch with a chainsaw on live television, so if you think Noelle is just coming into the ring for a wrestling match? Nope… Y’all fucked up.
Noelle Rivers will be mercilessly beaten in the middle of that ring. I will strike her until she is lacerated and bruised, I will crank her joints and bones until they break, and I will drop her on her head so she is left recovering in a hospital for weeks from a broken neck - if she doesn’t die outright. Noelle Rivers will only be remembered as a casualty in this gang warfare that the Syndicate has initiated. I told you what my territory is, and you continued to piss on it like the mongrels you have acted like for the last year, and you keep expecting your pups to fight your battles for you.
Now it’s time to put one of you down. Sad thing for you is we’re in Florida…gators love fresh meat…
[ Graham suddenly looks back towards the open door that leads into the interrogation room. ]
[ Graham Clauson ]: Hey yo, Jeremy! You still know those spots in the swamp where we can get rid of a body?
[ A gunshot is heard as the scene is cold-cut to black. ]