THE POP CULTURE PHENOMS PRESENT: A ONE MAN SHOW WITH THE D! (And others)

FADEIN.

A stage covered by a bright red velvet satin curtain, adorned with golden tassels. The creaking gears of the curtain parting, a rusty chain rattling to reveal a silhouette sitting on a stool. The spotlight flares, revealing the chiseled jaw line of the D smiling to the camera. He wears the finest purple velvet three piece suit, lined with golden trim.

“Tonight, it’s a one man show.” The D flashes those pearly whites. But then the expression breaks. He rolls his eyes and turns over his shoulder. “Klein, get out of the shot!”

Klein, who’s just in the background a hair, shuffles to the side.

“Let’s do that again.” The D reaches out and presses what appears to be his phone. He tried to stop recording but he’s mis-pressed it out of haste. “This time, with 100% less boxes in the background please!”

Klein blows a raspberry at the D through his box head and storms off.

“What’s up his butt?” The D says, to no one in particular. He looks around, and then slinks his shoulders. “I’m talking to myself aren’t I?” The D looks at the camera and his eyes widen in revelation. “Shit. I’m still rolling?!” The D rushes over, and pauses. “You know, this idea is bad and I should feel bad.” He reaches out and the video stops.

STATIC.

MARCH 17th, 2026

A wild party club atmosphere, Elise holds the D’s cell phone as the two party the night away. Glowsticks, neon face paint, flashing waving lights as The D just shouts. “I’mma live forever!” and throws his hands in the air.

STATIC

MARCH 18th, 2026

Elise Ares has buried her head in her own hands and jacket, hair strewed. The D’s sunken eyes show a man who’s been hit by a truck full of alcohol and molly. He just plunks himself down next to Elise, startling her. “I’m pretty sure I’m dying.”

“We’re all dying.” Klein says, just off screen. The D frowns toward him.

“Are you recording us?”

Klein pauses. “No?”

The D rushes toward the camera and Klein, as Klein protests, “No, okay! I’ll stop it! It’s sto-”

*STATIC*

March 19th, 2026

The D fumbles the phone and it falls, clattering onto the cold linoleum of the bathroom. It falls resting against a dresser, now filming just the D’s legs as he squats on the toilet in his modest plain bathroom. The fluffy red carpet predominately in the foreground. “Bathrooms without cell phones are super boring.” He groans. “I hope I didn’t break my phone…”

There’s a flush, the D stands and picks up his phone before ending the errant video.

*STATIC*

March 19th, 2026

The D is just filming his own TV as he watches Say Yes to the Dress. It’s literally just a ten second clip of a woman wearing a wedding gown.

*STATIC*

March 19th, 2026

The D presses the record button and steps back from a tripod holding his cell phone. He’s in a sparsely decorated garage, standing in front of a bench press. He flexes for the camera.

“PRIME-ates, this is the D, still glistening from an intense workout.” The D outstreches his arms and then paints a flow down his chest with both hands. “Drink the D in.”

He takes a deep inhale.

“Now, Culture Shock is right around the corner, and I’ve got an opportunity of a lifetime. Actually, WE, Elise and I, have that opportunity, for the Silver Ticket.” The D frowns. “Weird it’s not golden… I guess Wonka would sue.” The D shrugs. “Oh… Sonny. Right.” The D shakes the tangent free. “So this goes out to all our opponents, whom I’ve extensively researched. Klein, the list.”

Klein rushes into frame and hands the D a single slip of paper.

“Sport.” The D says, and blinks. “Sport? Is this real?” The D shakes the paper at Klein. “Crash? Who’s next, Cher?!” The D continues to read. “Keith Castle, I bet he’s an asshole. Jack Marley, the not boxer type. Kris Roswell? We got aliens in this, alright, I can dig it. And finally, Kenny Freeman… which is a sensitive last name for someone with as white of a complexion as you to have sir.”

The D crumbles up the paper and tosses it over his shoulders.

“Yeah! That’s exactly what I’m going to do to them at Culture Shock!” The D poses. “Alright, now let’s just film me working out for a bit so we can do the montage. Punch, kick, fly!”

The D motions with his hands for them to move onto the next spot. It’s here where the D starts doing push ups in the center of the garage. This goes on for a while, before the video pauses.

**

We zoom out of a monitor to reveal the D and Klein, watching a timeline in an editorial booth. The D lets out the longest sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Did you just do a stringout of all my cell phone videos and send it to Lindsey for my promo?”

“What’s a stringout?” Klein shrugs.

“What were you doing for the past six days?!?”

“I dunno. Lot of chess.com.” Klein pauses to think. “I’ve been researching whether I should buy a Switch 2 or not.” Klein continues to pause. “That’s about it. Beyond working out and stuff.”

“You…” The D’s voice begins to break in anger. “You thought?” The D stands up from his desk, pushing the wheelie office chair out of the way. “You were THINKING about buying a Nintendo?!” His voice cracking as he crescendo’s.

Without another word, The D leaves the room and slams the door behind.

Klein scratches the top of his box. “I wonder why he’s so mad.” Klein scrubs through the timeline, which appears to be about 4 hours long and a good 3 hours in the middle is just the D working out. “Honestly, this is Oscar bait right here.” Klein nods and crosses his arms, confident in his completed task. “Now…” Klein begins to look around the computer, checking ports and checking the monitor. “How do I print you…”

Klein continues to fuss with the machine and even smacks it a few times, wondering if that’ll help. It doesn’t.