”...Lionel, I have tried to explain this to you… a thousand different ways.”

“Oz is NOT playing three different parts. He’s FIGHTING in three different matches!”

”Potato, potato, Eugene!”

”...You just said potato the same way twice…”

”No! I’m saying, why aren’t there potatoes in my dressing room?!? I specifically demanded a HERD of baked potatoes!” Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing bats his star chair…

…It travels… maybe an inch before rattling exactly back to the position it was already in.

”...I don’t… I don’t think you call a group of vegetables a herd, Lionel.”

”LOOK AT THIS CASTING SHEET, EUGENE!” Lionel irritatedly frisbees a bit of cardstock at his agent, Gene Branagh…

Gene catches it in mid-air. ”...You mean the show card?”

”Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing… ONCE on the card! The opening act! A disgrace!”

”Meanwhile, this talentless OAF, Mister Oz! He opens, carries AND closes the show!” Lionel scoffs with a cough as he doffs his oft-quaffed portable potato trough around his neck… consuming potatoes mashed by dipping his face straight into  without ever once using his hands.

”...Wait, so you *do* have potatoes, like in your rider?”

”THESE ARE MASHED, EUGENE! DAMN YOU FOR NOT UNDERSTANDING MY NEEDS AS AN ACTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!”

Lionel reaches into his chest of acting accoutrements…

(Note for non-actors: “accoutrements” is French for “stuff”)

”Damn them… Damn them to the deepest trench of Satan’s fiery ANUS!” Pennyfarthing hisses. ”I must have… something in here…”

…Gene, despite himself, peers over Lionel’s shoulder curiously.

”L, whaddya doing?”

”I hath become FURY INCARNATE, Eugene!” Lionel fumes as he tosses away old highlighted scripts and worn acting boots… ”HELL HATH NO WRATH AS I SLATH DOWN THE FOOTPATH TOWARD A BLOODBATH!”

…Gene’s eyebrows raise intrigued. ”Wow, Lionel, for a second there, I thought that you actually wanted to fi-”

”AHA! YE GODS!” Lionel shrieks with delight as he fishes out of his acting chest…

A fencing sword! And a cape!

”...Oh god dammit.” Gene pinches the bridge of his nose.

”YES! I shall UPSTAGE this Oswald Aurelius Septimus Haphazardus HACKUS!”

”Lionel, Oz isn’t an actor! He’s a WRECKING MACHINE!”

”Ohhhhh…” Lionel nods knowingly. ”I have seen this Mister Oz wreck indeed… I’ve seen him CHEW through scenery, RUIN perfectly good theatre and DESTROY any semblance of stagecraft with his constant, pointless attacks!”

Lionel smacks his sword against his desk! It clangs metallically!

”...Wait, is that thing real?”

”Of course it isn’t!” Lionel bends the blade carefully, revealing its rubbery. He reaches into his pocket, revealing a tape recorder. He hits play!

CLANG! A metal sound effect!

”But I made you BELIEVE that the sword was real, didn’t I, Eugene?”

”...Yeah, I guess so.”

”Now… for a man whose chosen phrase is… BELIEVE ME. When’s the last time Mister Oz was even halfway believable?”

”He couldn’t play a rich man! He lost every match inside the ring, every lawsuit outside of it…”

“He couldn’t play a cult leader wrestling teacher! Somehow in a field of faceless wrestling students who Oz has PROMISED to one day make into stars… He’s the LEAST interesting player in every scene!”

“He’s a CHARISMA VACUUM, EUGENE!”

“And HE GETS THREE PARTS IN ONE SHOW!?!”

…Lionel wags his finger at the mirror.

”No… no no no!” Pennyfarthing grunts determinedly. ”This shall not do! This ruffian… This barbarian! He hath come betwixt me and that which I value more than anything else in this material plane! STAGE TIME!”

”...I am so lost, Lionel.” Gene scratches his head, utterly confounded. ”Are you… are you actually gonna *try* to wrestle Oz?” …Gene’s face lights with hope. “Are you gonna kick his ass?”

”OF COURSE I AM, Eugene! I will be kicking Mister Oz’s lily-white BUTTOCKS from my opening monologue, all the way to the second curtain call post-encore!”

”...YES!” Gene is suddenly thrilled! ”Lionel, if you actually win a match, we might start getting BETTER money! Like, NON-jobber money!” Gene is fired up imagining something beyond the meager appearance fee Lionel gets per match. Oh my God, what if he wins? That’s MONDO X-BUX! “Yes! Yes, KICK HIS FUCKING ASS!”

”Oh, I shall Eugene! I shall defeat Oz at the only battlefield that matters in this business!”

”Yes, absolutely! The wrestling ring!”

…

”...The… ring?”

”...Yeah, L. Y’know, where you’re be… wrestling?”

”P’SHAW, Eugene! I shall be defeating Oz at the real battlefield! THE ACTING STAGE!”

”...So… we’re still talking about acting?”

”We were NEVER TALKING ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE!” Lionel dons his cape and sheathes his stage sword! ”Now, if you’ll excuse me… I’ll be outperforming Oz tonight with a monologue from a sequel to Richard III that I wrote myself! Richard III Part 2: Electric Boogaloo!”

Lionel storms from the dressing room…

…

Gene sighs.

”...Eh… If he dies in the ring, does his life insurance pay out to me?”