Thanks

You know, Chandler, when I stood across from you in that ring, there was a lot I really wanted to say but as you went on… and on… and on… I slowly realised that anything I could say would be wasted on you, just like it was wasted on every other person who has challenged me for this Universal Championship. 

Actually, Nate Colton may be the sole exception.

Since this belt went across my waist, all I’ve heard is nothing but people with absolute certitude that they deserve this belt, that I’m just a speedbump getting in the way of their grander plans. 

Now, the hubris took many different forms, I grant you. Ivan viewed me as a gnat he could stamp out, TAL viewed me as a platform to conquer his career fear of defending a major title successfully, Jiles was… well he was Jiles. Daytona even through a party celebrating a win he had not yet earned. 

So as you stood and told me why actually, this time would be different. When you continued to take cheap shots and tried to wedge me against my friends, I knew any words I could say were absolutely wasted breath. 

I don’t knock your accomplishments Chandler, you managed something I didn’t, you won the Almasy. I came so close, I had a great run in 2023, but I didn’t seal the deal. You did. 

Sometimes though, those major victories, they become a curse. You stop seeing yourself, you start to think you are an infallible god. I know I did when I stood across from JCH, I was so certain that the divine and the universal had set me up for victory, that the Almasy trophy was mine. I was already thinking about my schedule as YOUR next Universal Champion. 

I’ve said it before Chandler, I’ll say it again. I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face.

Pride comes before the fall. 

I fell hard, lost my 5 Star Championship to Rob Williams in the weeks that followed. Spent a year with the biggest monkey on my shoulder as a man who was once my best friend sought to straight up murder me. 

I could have ran, I should have ran, some believe. Yet, I had a War Games team to lead, I had Glue Friends to support, I had to confront my demons. It’s coming out of that fire, that suffering, that endless questioning… that’s what made me the Universal Champion I am today. 

People don’t get it, based on our little exchange in the ring, I don’t think you get it either.

You don’t question yourself, you think that your victory is inevitable, just like everyone who came before you who tried to take the Universal Championship from me. 

Do you know why I still have this title after all this time, Chandler?

I question myself every day.

—

Our world takes something of a pivot, as we find our grand hero, Cecilworth Farthington dressed in a bright red suit, bedazzled down the lapels, as well as the side of his flared trousers. He stands in front of a spotlight, a cheering audience welcoming him. The Universal Champion looks out and surveys his loyal following, those who are hooting and hollering at the very arrival of the man himself. As Cecilworth takes in the audience in front of him, he notices something a little odd, it’s as if someone had a hose and had sprinkled FLAMBERGEs, Joes, Hanks, Dirk Dickwoods, Hayes Hanlons, Phil Atkens and even the occasion Sid across the entire audience. There’s different palette swaps of the Glue folk, Joe Fontaine in particular has a multitude of different sparkly suits for the affair. Joes in green, Joes in red, there’s even some Joes in a fanciful pink, yet every suit shines just as brightly as the last.

The one exception to the palette swap world that Cecilworth surveys is that every version of Hank is still dressed in a black t-shirt. That’s just Hank.

The entire Glue audience, perhaps up to 300 of them, all rise to their feet as Cecilworth stands in the middle of the stage, taking in the applause of his adoring Glue audience, his hips swaying to a cool musical beat that is punctuating the Universal Champion’s arrival on the stage. There is the odd Sid who doesn’t stand up with the rest of them, but those Sids are very few and far between and were probably just distracted by all the book learning that he does these days.

Farthington gestures for his kind compatriots to take their seats after the rousing ovation, the indication of a man who is ready to start the show.

“Oh guys, you’re going to make my cry!” states the red suited Farthington, surveying the crowd in front of him. “I hope you know that this show is not about me, it’s about all of you.”

There’s a little murmuring in the various versions of the Glueminati who have been sprayed down as the audience for whatever fever dream Farthington currently finds himself in.

“Yes, yes, this show is for all of you!”

More clapping from the crowd, more excitement. The music starts to fade as Farthington firmly plants himself into the centre of the weird television studio he has found himself in.

“I can’t believe you are all surprised over this. We are in the season of thanks, after all. As your friend, I think it’s time for me to truly thank all of you. You do not know how much you have all done for me and what better time to recognise all of this than right now.” Farthington plays to the crowd for more claps and cheers, which they dutifully do, as he slowly walks over to a sofa that definitely wasn’t there a second ago, but is now.

Farthington plunks himself down upon the sofa and surveys the 300 strong Glueminati before him, clapping back at them as they clap for him.

“It’s time to give back to those who have given me so much, and with that in mind, let me throw over to our first correspondent for this evening, Cecilwet Poolington. Cecilwet, can you hear me?”

—

The camera cuts over to a version of Cecilworth dressed solely in a pair of speedos and you can let your imagination fill in the rest of the gaps.

“Thank you Cecilworth! I stand here, right next to the Farthington Manor pool, to give a special boy a very special gift.”

Cecilwet holds up a golden sheet of thick cardboard.

“This, in my hand right now, is a pass for unlimited access and time to the manor’s pool, and I think even your audience would know who this is for.”

The Glueminati in the studio crowd hoot and holler, a few of them are brave enough to even yell “HANK!”. All the Hanks, dressed in their finest black t-shirts, remain with arms crossed in stoic silence because Hanks are the kind of guys who do not want to get ahead of themselves.

“Cecilwet, whoever could you mean?” asked the Satanic Red Farthington from his position on the couch.

“Hank, of course! He’s done so much for Glue! Did you see him chokebomb Rose? That was hella rad. He should probably do it again if you ask me.”

The crowd shows their approval of Cecilwet’s comments with increasing loud applause.

“We’re not here to talk about the Roses of the world of course, we’re here to give thanks!” states Prime Cecilworth. “But wow, what a gift for Hank, as much pool time as he wants. Now that’s true appreciation!”

There’s a lighter smattering of applause this time, mostly from the Hanks.

“We’re going to leave this for Hank next to the pool lounger, he’ll be so excited” states Cecilwet. “And with that, I would now like to hand over to my colleague, Jecilworth Jolfington, over at the Farthington Manor Jolf Course.”

—

The feed has a few seconds of static burst, and once the static has settled, we find ourselves in the company of a Cecilworth who is dressed in baggy shorts, a polo shirt, and a flat cap. Jecilworth has a jolf club swung over his shoulder as he addressed the camera.

“As my good friend Cecilwet just stated, I join you here from the beautiful Farthington Manor jolf course and you will not believe the gift that we are about to bestow upon Glue’s most sparkling hero. Yes that’s right, it’s time for Joe Fontaine to get what’s coming to him!”

The camera pans out to show the absolutely massive grounds that the “Farthington Manor Jolf Course” consumes. No one is quite certain what a regulation Jolf Hole looks like, so at a certain point it was just decided that the more land, the better.

Jecilworth ventures forth to the start of the first hole of the Jolf Course and places a gift wrapped steel chair, the chair has a note from Cecilworth attached stating “I’d miss you as a wrestler, but this Jolf thing is really working out. Follow your dreams, you deserve it.”

The wrapping paper is of course the sparkliest shit you could ever imagine. Jecilworth gives the jolf club a little hug and then places it gently against the first Jolf Hole tea. He gives it a little pat as he does so.

“Joe Fontaine, the heart of Glue, the heart of Jolf. An overlooked hero in this business, a man willing to stand by his friends, a man mauled by Max Kael for the audacity to do so. He believed in Glue as much as Glue believed in him, and this is a gift most earned… hold on … hold on… I’m getting news from the studio.”

Jecilworth goes wide eyed to help sell the element of surprise of the whole news.

“I’m being informed Joe isn’t just getting the sweet new jolf club, he’s getting the entire Farthington Manor Jolf Course with Cecilworth’s best wishes.”

The camera feed cuts back to the studio, where all of the bedazzled Joes are excitedly clapping, no matter which bright colour they had decided to wear for an evening of thanks and frivolity. In the studio, the voice of Jecilworth booms over everyone.

“I can’t wait for Joe to see his surprise, but I understand that my colleague Sssecilworth has an update from within Farthington Manor.”

–

Sssecilworth stands in front of Farthington Manor’s dripping room. Dressed head to tails in a  snakeskin suit.

“Thank you Jecilworth, tonight I join you from in front of the famous Farthington Manor Dripping Room, and I think I have the perfect gift for the man who often inhabits this very room.”

Sssecilworth holds up a container of the world’s finest belt polish, that he slowly places in front of the room. The camera pans down to the note attached to the polish, hand written from Cecilworth Prime himself, based on a careful analysis from one of them handwriting folks. The note simply states “I know you’ll need this sooner rather than later.”

“I am placing this here for whenever FLAMBERGE may emerge, Cecilwet.”

Sssecilworth gently pats the container, almost looking at it with a degree of a mixture of envy and pride.

“Now I am going to throw it to my colleague, Businessworth Stockington, over at the Farthington Manor Board Room.”

—

“Yes, hello! Thank you Sssecilworth, you join me now in the board room, a scene of many intense exchanges between Cecilworth and Phil Atken. I have been tasked with leaving an important gift in this room for the very founder of Glue, a Universal Champion in his own right, Mr. Phil Atken.”

Businessworth looks directly into the camera and holds a fork up in his hand. He places the fork down in the very middle of the table, with a small note attached from Cecilworth himself, simply stating, “if I fuck up again, you know what to do.”

It’s then the camera catches bright glints of crusted blood on the fork that is being left for Phil.

“And now I hand it over to my very capable colleague, Drinksworth Alcoholism”.

–

The camera quickly cuts to the Farthington Manor Bar, where a very jolly version of Cecilworth is rolling around amongst broken glass on the floor and giggling to himself.

“HAYESSSSSSSS HANLONNNNNNNNNN!” yells Drinksworth to himself as he continues to giggle. The glass is nearly tearing sheds out of his skin, the floor now becoming painted in a mixture of blood and glass, which Drinksworth is trying to make snow angles out of.

–

As an emergency method, the camera quickly cuts back towards Cecilworth PRIME in the studio of Glue Friends, he holds his finger against his ear, an earpiece clearly updating him on the situation in Farthington Manor. The microphone picks up Cecilworth muttering “you should never trust Drinksworth. Too unreliable.”

Farthington realises that the cameras are back on him and claps his hands in the congenial “television host” way. He reaches out to the back of the Cecilworth Sofa he finds himself currently sitting upon and pulls out a can of BarelyLegal Energy Drink, just modified enough to show the beautiful moustached faces of Hayes Hanlon on the front of it. He lifts it up the the audience who go wild with applause.

“This was supposed to be Drunksworth’s job, but Hayes… I believe if this it what you want, you’ll be the face of it soon enough. People keep putting you down, you put yourself down too, yet never forget, you’re a two time Universal Champion, a Five Star Champion, you won the Intense Title this year. That’s who you are, one of our best, and this can is for you.”

The camera gets up real close to Farthington, who clicks it off the lens, as if doing a “cheers” from far away to Hayes.

“You trusted us, we trust you. We’ll always trust you. Thank you for believing in Glue when many didn’t.”

Farthington cracks open the can of BarelyLegal Energy, he takes a few sips and pulls a funny face that implies that it has quite the taste, perhaps for a refined pallet. After shaking off the disgust, he stands up and begins to walk back to the middle of the stage in front of a beautiful Glue Crew Crowd.

Core Cecilworth plunks himself right on stage, in front of the rainbow arch of flashing lights, in the company of his many many replicant friends. He turns to face the camera to introduce the next bit of the show.

“Now of course, the Glueminati family has stretched far and wide over the last few years of PRIME, and it would be ignorant to forget the rest of our precious family.”

Farthington extends his hand wide, gesturing to roll the pre-recorded clips.

—

The scene shifts to the postbox of a nondescript building, the context clues indicate that it’s likely some form of college living accommodation. The camera slowly zooms in to one of the envelopes that has been stuffed in the box, which reads “FOR SID”. The camera further pans down to see there is an additional note that states “DO NOT STEAL, BOOK TOKENS INSIDE”.

Thankfully for the Sid that this is intended for, the letter looks very untouched and the book tokens are very likely still within the envelope.

The camera quickly catches a version of Cecilworth, dressed in a university robe and mortarboard, fleeing the scene, Professorworth Learnington, if you will.

—

Scottishworth Scottington (Cecilworth in one of those tartan hats with a ginger hair wig poking out of the back) stands in front of Dirk Dickwood’s office. He drops a bottle of whiskey in front of it, shrugs his shoulders and runs away.

—

Cecilworth Farthington In A Horse Costume quickly runs into the middle of the Farthington Manor maze. He drops off a fire extinguisher with a small note from Cecilworth Prime stating “sorry about all the fires.”

Horsey Farthington drops off the gift and clip clops off, back out of the maze.

—

The feed switches to the burnt out husk of a former dead mall. A zombified version of Cecilworth, Zombieworth Zombieton, shambles forth to the crater that perhaps was created by some form of drone strike.

Zombieworth drops trou and lets rip, groaning “tiiiiiiime tooooo paaay theeee TAAAAAAB” as his undead steamy excrement slowly plops into the crater below.

—

The camera quickly cuts back to Core Cecilworth.

“Sorry folks, not sure how that one made it in there.”

The audience leaps up and applauds with another standing ovation, like it was a Venice Film Festival, nonetheless.

Farthington grabs a hand microphone, just like the ones you see all the time on PRIME’s ReVival show and hell, even all the Pay Per Views and begins to walk up the steps, past the Glueminati crowd and out of the “studio” door. As he walks outside, he finds himself at the entrance of Farthington Manor. His demeanour has slightly shifted, no longer the Glue Gift Giver, now a man with burning focus within his eyes, as if he’d just snapped back into his own reality.

“Tonight has been a night of thanks, a night of appreciation. I am not the Universal Champion I am today if it was not for the support of Glue, I mean through both direct and moral support, my friends have stood by me, just as I have stood by them. Glue aren’t villains Chandler, they are bloody good wrestlers who stand side by side to protect each other, and when my PRIME career hit its lowest, they remained there for me.”

Farthington walks past the Manor’s hedge maze, which on this rare occasion, isn’t even on fire, which surprises even Cecilworth for a moment, a man who expected a nice burning heat on a cold November day.

“For four years now, people have tried to unpack the very concept of Glue. They couldn’t understand how we stood together when every other group in PRIME fell to infighting and egos. They never realised that we just liked each other, appreciated each other, and pushed each other to be our very best.”

Farthington now arrives at the front of the hedge maze, this time though, it’s not dream versions, it’s the actual humans who join him at the front. He walks down the line at the front, hugging Joe, FLAMBERGE, Hayes, Hank, Dirk… and he also has a respectful handshake with Phil. They all face the camera in front of them, hell, even the minotaur peaks his head over the top of the now very safe hedge maze.

“I could be like you, Chandler, I could try and create my own reality. A reality where losses don’t exist, a reality where you didn’t run away to a cabin when times got tough. A reality where you didn’t put your friends in direct harm's way because of the fact you couldn’t endure the fact that people didn’t like you any more. I could try and pick fights and wars and send people to the hospital…”

Cecilworth pauses for a second as the Glueminati shuffles into position.

“Glue, we actually avenge wrong doing, we take care of our own, we do not run, we stand in the corner for one another even at times when our own record isn’t so hot. When I implied you were the villain of this piece, Chandler, I didn’t say it out of trash talk, I said it out of conviction that I am a better person than you. The difference between the two of us is simple - no matter how hard it got for me, I didn’t run. I didn’t hide. I didn’t have to come back and poke a Russian Bear, hurting those around me, ending the career of one just because of my own guilt. I simply stood and shouted, I shouted for FLAMBERGE to use his famous finishing move, which was good advice, actually. I avenged Joe’s mauling by Max Kael at last year’s Colossus. I sent my closest ally out in Hank to avenge FLAMBERGE and Hayes’ nonsense with Rose. I stood by them. You ran. ”

Farthington gives a nod to the crew, who all take their positions.

“You don’t get it, the PRIME roster doesn't get it, but everyone here does. I am only the Universal Champion I am today because of one simple fact…”

The entire crew wraps the arms around each other, the minotaur remains peeking out above the top of the hedge maze.

“GLUE FRIENDS STICK TOGETHER!”

There’s a quick bulb flash on screen, capturing the very moment of the comrades in arms (and also a minotaur)

“I may question myself every day, but these men make me believe in myself. I could never abandon them. I know you can’t claim the same. Colossus isn’t your Fairy Tale ending, Chandler, it’s your consequences coming to call.”

The feed goes dark, and slowly, a black and white photo of the Glue Friends sticking together consumes the screen as everything fades away.