The Narrator presents
Ace Stevens
in
Please Call it a Comeback
His uniform was pristine. It had to be, of course. But there was something about the attire of
Pak Woon-mo that made him stand out from the rest. His boots were just that bit shinier, his hair that bit neater. Even his manner of speaking was a touch more eloquent than that of his peers. Perhaps this was the reason why he was tasked with delivering extraordinary information to the prisons general.
Colonel Pak was smart, no doubt about it. But his superior,
General Jung Ok-soon was on another level. Decades of service in his nations military had seen him ascend to the esteemed rank of general. His appearance reflected that fact. His hair was shiny and black and a bounty of medals adorned his crisp uniform. The only imperfection was his dropping eyes. A disposition that, while clearly attributable to old age, gave the impression that he had simply seen too much. Seated at his impeccably organised mahogany desk, to any of his inferiors he was power personified.
장군님, 나는 그를 풀어야한다는 소식을 받았습니다.
[General, I have received news that we must release him.]
너 누구 한테 말하는거야?
[Who do you speak of?]
The generals curiosity was clear. This was not a typical prison. The release of a detainee was not an everyday occurrence. It was even rarer still that a release would be ordered from the powers above. Even Pak, a man a few levels of pay below the general, knew the levity of the situation. He inhaled slowly before saying the prisoners name.
광대.
[The Jester.]
The brow of General Jung Ok-soon furrowed. He removed his glasses slowly and almost unsteadily, cleaned them briefly and placed them back on his face. It was evident that the general never expected this day to arrive.
아주 잘.
[Very well.]
The general rose from his desk. His back creaked he knew he was too old for this. But Jung had always led by example. If this particular prisoner was going to be released, he was going to be there to witness it. Spotting five young soldiers in the hallway, he spoke to them.
우리는 구덩이에 가야합니다.
[We must go to The Pit.]
왜, 일반. 거기에 단 한 명의 죄수가 있습니까.
[Why, general? There is only one prisoner there.]
The questioning tone of the soldiers was perhaps justified. There was only one prisoner in the pit, and the soldiers were under strict instructions to not interact with him. To not even walk near his cell without purpose. Nevertheless, they followed the generals swift pace through the dark, clearly underfunded prison hallways.
오늘 그는 풀려났다.
[Today he is released.]
The soldiers looked to one another. The gravity of the situation just became apparent. The rest of the fifteen minute walk was done in complete silence, minus the occasional nervous gulp and tortured screams far off in the distance. Until they arrived. The Pit. Faced with a large, foreboding, heavy-duty entrance, the generals heart felt like a jagged chunk of lead in his chest.
문을 열다.
[Unlock the door.]
General Jung was far too old to handle the stiff locks and heavy barricades which divided The Pit and the rest of the camp, and instead chose Colonel Pak Woon-mo to do the honours. Metal loudly thunked as each lock was undone. The other soldiers readied themselves for what would be on the other side of the door.
Colonel Pak slowly pushed the door forwards to reveal a cold, dark room. The stone walls were incredibly tall, making the small space seem a lot bigger than it actually was. A few straws of hay littered the floor and the stench well, the stench was unbearable. But in the obscurity sat a lone figure. His feet were shackled and long, greasy hair covered his face. There was little about the figure which indicated that he was alive, or indeed, even human. He spoke thus.
Finally! Ive been calling room service forever.
---
Oh John Boy, youre always getting into scrapes. When will you learn?
Ace Stevens is sitting at the dinner table of his childhood home. The spotless gingham table cloth and homely furnishings are directly at odds with his trademark look of white v-neck, black leather jacket and shades. His
mother - a kind, jolly, aproned lady - is cleaning the already immaculate kitchen, more out of habit than anything else.
Ma, I aint gonna call being thrown in some North Korean jail cell for years a scrape.
How did you even get in there in the first place?
Oh I dont know, ma. How does anything happen? Ace says, reclining in his chair. There was a minor incident in Pyongyang with a pineapple and, er, a generals daughter and a vicuña
I think. I dont wanna get into it. But I tell ya what, those Koreans know how to drink.
A vicuña?
Its like a small llama.
Well Im just happy youre home safe. We didnt know what had happened to you. We were worried sick! Eat this, honeybun.
Mrs. Stevens places a hearty portion of baked ziti in front of her son. However, instead of following his moms instructions, he simply stares at it.
What? You dont like ziti no more? You got a taste for that Korean food now?
No, no protests Ace,
its just
what am I gonna do now?
Um, eat?
I mean in terms of life. Like, I had the stand-up and the wrestling. Then my leg stopped working again
Just carry on with the comedy. You were always so good at that. You cursed too much, but I could tell you were good at it.
And what would I talk about now? Im out of the loop. The world has changed so much. Do people still do that Harlem Shake thing?
Oh, honey.
I mean, I caught a glimpse of the paper this morning and there was something on the front page about The Apprentice. At least people are still watching that.
Oh, honey.
I just miss the old days. Get on stage, ten minutes about my junk and an insulting remark about someone from the Jersey Shore. But no! That stuff dont fly no more. Thanks, Louis C.K.
Have you considered getting a real job? You know, like a grown-up? asks Mrs. Stevens, with all the sincerity in the world.
Im a convict, ma. Convicts don't get real jobs.
Sure they do.
Name one guy who got a decent job after leaving prison.
Mrs. Stevens begins to rack her brain. Ace, meanwhile, begins to pick at his food.
Nelson Mandela.
Thanks, ma says Ace, earnestly, appreciating the effort his mother is making.
Face it. My name is mud. Im an irresponsible loudmouth with a criminal record and a possible personality disorder. There aint a company in the world that would be stupid enough to hire me.
As if by some brilliant coincidence, Aces iPhone 4 begins to ring. He looks down at the caller ID. WZCW.
---
Ace took a deep breath. As if he was attempting to detect a far-off scent.
Oh yeah. Thats the stuff. Smells like gold, baby.
Sorry, were you talking to me? asks a
man, standing nearby. With neat, brown hair and grey smart casual clothing, he is the living definition of average.
No I was not.
Ace quickly reads the mans security tag, dangling around his painfully boring neck.
Bob.
Oh, Im sorry. Can I help you with anything, Mr. Stevens?
Nah youre okay. Ace has to look at the mans security tag again.
Oh yeah, Bob. Im just waiting for an old friend.
Okay, well if you need-
There he is! LEO! LEO! LEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOO!
Oh [CURSE REDACTED].
Ace runs at
Leon Kensworth like a lion hunting down an awkward-looking, bespectacled gazelle.
How you doing, you old bastard?! NOOGIE!
Before any protest can take place, Ace gets WZCWs resident straight-laced interviewer in an almighty headlock and begins grind his knuckles against Leon's cranium. One can only assume this was because the esteemed journalist's suit made a titty twister seem difficult to pull off, logistically-speaking.
So how are things going for ya? Hell, how are things going for the ol WrestleZone Championship Wrestling? Who are the champions? No! Wait. Let me guess. Uh, SaboSax are tag team champions. Obviously. Goes without saying. Daemonic is Eurasian Champion and Darren Bull is the Elite Champion?
Leon lowers his eyebrows and flashes a puzzled look in Aces direction.
Youre right. What am I saying? The Destruction Darren Bull is World Champion material. Naturally. And Im gonna guess that the Mayhem Championship was retired shortly after I left, like Gretzkys jersey or my grandpops after that fire.
Wow, all of that is incorrect. Like, across the board.
Thats a shame.
Quite replies Kensworth.
Well look, Ace, it was great catching up, but I dont actually have you scheduled for an interview today. Mainly because I didnt even realise you were back. Or alive, for that matter.
Oh I know. Lets save that for a week where nothing interesting happens to me. I just wanted to walk through these halls again. Get a feel for the place. Get a feel for the company again. Say hi to old co-workers and introduce myself to new ones. And, if I have time, sneak a look at Stacey Madisons cans.
Oh. I didn't realise you were returning. Who are you facing in your first match?"
Well that depends can ya keep a secret?
Of course replies Kensworth, somewhat upset that his integrity could be called into question. Especially by someone as duplicitous as Ace Stevens.
Alright says Ace, as he gets uncomfortable close to Kensworths left ear and gently whispers his answer.
Crocodile Dundee? Thats not a wrestler here.
Oh. Then its Justin Cooper. Always getting those mixed up.
Theyre not even simil-
And its going to be at the 10th Anniversary Show and Im going to kick his ass!
Youre going to kick his ass?
Yep.
The world champion?
Yep.
On your first night back?
Yeah, what are you not understanding?
Well its just that Justin Cooper is a remarkable talent. An extraordinary wrestler, really. And your last match was three and a half years ago. Where you lost to, um
Oh I dont remember that said Ace, lying like an idiot.
The fact is, Ive already beat Justin Cooper. Yeah, thats right, Leo. I did and I took the Mayhem title away from him when I answered an open challenge. Oh, and whats that? Oh yeah, this is also gonna be an open challenge. So Id say Ive got a pretty good chance of winning. Thats math right there.
I think youre going to find out that the Justin Cooper you beat all those years ago is long gone. Hes a different animal now.
Well its a good thing Im the same then. Im the same old ass-kicking, face-smashing, arm-breaking, joke-telling arrogant son of a bitch Ive always been. Im the toughest man to come out of Brooklyn, New York since ODB. The things I can do with a kendo stick and a trashcan will shock and amaze you
Its a no-DQ match?
Nah. But rules dont stop me, Leo. You know this. Look man, for the past three and a half years, everyones been saying oh, wheres Ace Stevens?, what happened to Ace Stevens, is Ace Stevens dead?. Well let me tell you this, Leo. Im too stupid to die. And Im just too damn vital to disappear. So pay close attention to WZCW. Cause Im gonna beat Justin Cooper. Then Im gonna take his title. Then Ill take the Eurasian title from whichever unfortunate soul possesses it.
Titus Avison?
Really? That dude is ancient. Gotta be pushing 50 by now, hasnt he? Ol T-Dog? Well whoever it is, Im a beat them too. Then Ill take the Elite title and then, of course, my old friend Mayhem. And on my second night back
Ill probs just cut a promo or something. Keep it simple, you know?
Oh Im sure.
Im back, Leo! The king is here to take his crown. And Justin Cooper is just a
um
whats that word? Ugh, I know this. It begins with a p. It means theyre not the king
Pretender? offers Leon.
Nah. Its, um
oh yeah! Pussy! Hes a big old P-bomb!
Is that all? asks Kensworth, checking his watch.
Id say so. But damn, Leo, you really should have recorded that promo. You know, for prosperity.
You mean posterity?
No, prosperity. Cause it wouldve made you a shitload of money. Later, tater.
And with a pat on the back, Ace leaves to explore the rest of the WZCW headquarters. Possibly to find his crown.