Have Spacesuit--Will Wrestle

“It pays to keep an open mind, but not so open your brains fall out.” -Carl Sagan “I’m so tired…”

With a forlorn sigh, Kerry Kuroyama slouched deeper into his Lloyd Dobler style trench coat, all but disappearing into his plush armchair. A veil of bangs hid his eyes from having to look at the wretched world around him.

“Life always finds a way to kick me while I’m down,” he bemoaned. “Everything is an exercise in futility. Like Sisyphus, forever pushing the rock uphill. Always pushing… always climbing… never getting anywhere…”

“For fuck’s sake, would you STOP WHINING already?!”

From the floor, Kerry Kuroyama snarled with contempt. The chairs couldn’t hold him; his forever restless spirit insisted on occupying himself through a neverending session of angry, sweaty push-ups.

“Your constant pity-baiting for attention is NAUSEATING!” he seethed. “Everyone knows it’s just an act by now, so get the fuck over it and do SOMETHING! Fuck, do ANYTHING!”

Kerry Emo-yama whimpered. “Do anything… do nothing… it all leads to the same despair.”

Kerry Aggro-yama scowled. “FUCK, you’re pathetic… EVERYONE is pathetic…”

“Oi… you two…”

Putting a pause on their debate, the doubles looked in unison toward the voice, and saw Kerry Kuroyama sternly staring down at them from within the wrestling ring.

His skin was heavily tattooed. His ribs were taped. His sunglasses were tinted. His suit was slick as hell.

“Enough with the negativity,” he declared. “Reducing the world around you won’t make you any greater, in mind or in spirit. Rather than tearing down yourself, or tearing down others, use that energy to build yourself up.”

“The fuck does it look like I’M DOING HERE?!” raged Kerry Aggro-yama, bursting to his feet and immediately throwing himself into a set of squat thrusts. “Do you have ANYTHING useful to contribute other than empty platitudes, you indulgent, culture-appropriating drunk?”

“Damare,” snapped Kerry Kuro-yakuza, taking a hearty swig from the bottomless whisky tumbler. “It’s Kerry-oke time. Any requests?”

Kerry Emo-yama sighed in his seat once more. “I don’t even care anymore…”

“Good choice… iku yo.”

The lights dimmed.

From the air itself, music was willed into existence.

Phil Collins’ sparse, off-rhythm drumming. Then synthesizers, playing ethereal chords.

As a single spotlight fell upon him, Kerry Kuro-yakuza drew the microphone to his lips. “Well you can tell everyone I'm a down disgrace, “Drag my name all over the place, “I don't KERR anymore…” Kerry Kuro-yakuza took the opportunity to take another swig from his tumbler and light a cigarette between verses. Neither act affected his voice in the slightest. “You can tell everybody 'bout the state I'm in, “You won't catch me crying 'cause I just can't win “I don't KERR anymo-oh-ore… “I don't KERR anymore…” Through Bobby Neptune’s intergalactic goggles, the actual Kerry Kuroyama watched the Kuro-drama unfold from afar in silent reproach.

The Emerald Apex stood near the back of a dimly lit whisky lounge, furnished with several plush chairs and roundtables arranged around a wrestling ring that dominated the center of the room and served as a stage. It seemingly existed in an impossible physical space, as a look through the eastern window offered a view of the Seattle skyline, whereas a look westward offered one of Tokyo.

A place born from his imagination, he begrudgingly reminded himself. Immaterial, holographic projections emitted by the visor he wore.

How it worked, he couldn’t quite say. But so far, Neptune’s otherworldly technology functioned exactly as advertised.

Someone tapped his shoulder.

“Excuse me…”

He looked over to see another Kerry standing beside him, wearing what appeared to be religious vestments along with a very obvious dog collar.

“Do you have a minute to talk about our Lady and Savior, Her Holy Thigh-ness?”

Feeling his patience wearing thin, the real Kerry forced a smile.

“My dude, I think I could talk for hours on that subject, but for now can you just point me in the direction of the beast?”

Thigh Priest Kerry of the Church of the Latter Day Quads reacted to the question with puzzlement.

“The… ‘beast’?”

In the ring, Kerry Kuro-yakuza continued to croon away… “I don't KERR what you say… “I don't play the same games you play…” The real Kerry nodded.

“Yeah, is there like… a ‘Scary Kerry’ around here somewhere?”

Kerry Sub-oyama shook his head.

“I cannot say, my son…” he said, then pointed past him. “Although there is that guy.”

The real Kerry turned to look, finding another of his imaginary aspects standing nearby.

This one wore the forest green outfit of a superhero, complete with a wing-like cape, utility belt, and a cowl adorned with a pair of reptilian crests.

Kerry stood in silence for a moment before finally breaking the ice.

“...who the fuck are you supposed to be?”

The other Kerry stared back through narrowed eyeholes in his mask.

“I’m Dragonman.” “'Cause I've been talking to the people that you call your friends, “And it seems to me there's a means to an end. “They don't KERR anymore…” Kerry stared in dumbfoundment.

“Also, The Dragonman.”

More staring. More dumbfoundment.

“And technically, I guess, some people also call me The Dragon.”

Emo-yama sighed.

Aggro-yama snarled.

Sub-oyama blushed.

Dragonman brooded.

And Kuro-yakuza crooned away through Collins’ unsung classic. “And as for me I can sit here and bide my time, “I got nothing to lose if I speak my mind. “I don't KERR anymo-oh-ore… “I don't KERR no more…” The gravelly depths of Kerry’s groan bore weeks worth of frustration.

Neptune entrusted him with the visor in the hope that it would help him confront and overcome his inner darkness. Trust he had regrettably broken in the interest of buying himself more time.

Yet in spite of multiple expeditions through this innerspace of his mind, all that had been gained was the loathsome company of all these alternative versions of himself.

Through all that time, he wasn’t any closer to finding the beast.

And with UltraViolence around the corner, he was keenly aware that his time with the visor was potentially running out.

“Ah, fuck this…”

Kerry crossed the room toward the ring and rolled himself under the ropes. “I don't KERR what you say… “We never played by the same rules any--” The Kerry-oke number abruptly halted the moment the Emerald Apex swiped the microphone from the unsuspecting Kerry Kuro-yakuza’s hand.

“Sorry to interrupt… but I’m done fucking around here.”

Restlessly, he paced the ring, occasionally looking up at the ceiling as he spoke.

“Alright, asshole… I know you can hear me… just show yourself and let’s get this over with.”

At first, the call was answered only by cold silence and the blankfaced expressions of the other Kerrys.

Then, the room grew darker.

“How does it feel, Face?”

The rumbling voice of the beast seemed to come from everywhere.

Through the windows, the city skyline gave way to a view of endless black.

“How does it feel to truly see yourself for the first time?”

The ground trembled. Then shuddered. Then shook.

A great and terrifying presence was forcing its way into the visor’s sphere of influence.

“How does it feel to gaze into the black mirror? To see your reflection in the darkest light?”

The other Kerrys stared back at him.

Silent. Expressionless.

“These caricatures… these hyperboles…”

They stared even as giant cracks split the crumbling walls.

“Walking, talking testaments to your every nagging weakness and insecurity.”

They stared even as the floor slowly gave away below their feet.

“Exposing you to a shame and humiliation you couldn’t possibly fathom, until it was physically right there in front of you.”

Chairs and tables were sucked away into the vacuum of space.

“You’re at the center of it all… yet completely uncentered.”

The Kerrys were pulled away as well, docile as lambs being offered up as tributes to an eldritch thing.

“It’s like looking down one day and realizing that your fly’s been wide open for the entirety of your life.”

The nonexistence claimed everything.

Everything but the squared circle beneath Kerry Kuroyama’s impatiently tapping feet.

“Yeah, sometimes, my pants go into business for themselves,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “Can’t be helped. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about that…”

The quake slowly subsided.

Then, like a pair of sparkling emeralds shimmering through an everlasting night, the glowing eyes of THE BEAST appeared ahead of him.

“Why ARE you here, Face?”

The eyes swept around the ring with inhuman speed.

“To vanquish me? To rid yourself of this ‘curse’?”

Though the beast remained confined to the shadows, Kerry could feel heavy drafts off its movements.

They suggested a mass of colossal proportions.

“Even if that were possible, do you really think I’d allow that to happen?”

Unfazed by the beast’s posturing, Kerry’s grip found his father’s tomoe pendant hanging around his neck.

So long as his faith in the ring held absolute, he knew he was safe.

“Yeah… I’m not here for that either.”

The glowing green eyes of the beast came to rest ahead of him again.

“Vanquish you? Man, what’s there to vanquish? Look, you’re not a demon in my head. That shit is cliche and stupid. What you really is another part of me. An out of sync schism of my personality, thrown horribly out of sync thanks to a bad night of gummies, whisky, and hotwings.”

The eyes hovered and watched.

The beast was listening.

“Months ago, you asked for my cooperation. What you really wanted was control. But right now, I can offer something better than both of those things.”

The beast came closer.

Kerry could feel the warm gusts of its deep, guttural breaths.

Just an illusion, he reminded himself. The marvels of alien technology.

“Unity.”

The green eyes of the beast narrowed.

“The results as of late speak for themselves. Since we’ve been divided, things have been in the shitter. So I’m asking you… to help me make it right. I’m asking you for your cooperation.”

He extended his hand.

“Please… for the sake of moving forward and pursuing our mutual interests, let's bring this dumb, stupid, cringeworthy chapter of our life to a close, and get our collective ass back to serious wrestling.”

The beast rumbled quietly for a moment as it considered the offer.

“Yes… unity.”

The eyes faded.

The ring shook once more.

A vortex of dark winds enveloped the ring.

His back suddenly flaring with pain, Kerry seized up. The wind hit him like a spear of concentrated air, driving him down onto his knees.

Then, it entered him.

Through the skin.

A process that was as slow as it was painful.

But by the end, he could finally say he was-- “ATTENTION PASSENGERS… ALASKA AIRLINES FLIGHT 667 FROM SEATTLE TO NEW YORK--JOHN F. KENNEDY INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT IS NOW BOARDING AT GATE C-7.” The overhead announcement snapped him back to reality.

Panting and drenched in sweat, Kerry pulled the visor off his head. Instantly, he was back in the commode within the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.

Did that shit just really happen? “I REPEAT… ALASKA AIRLINES FLIGHT 667 FROM SEATTLE TO NEW YORK--JOHN F. KENNEDY INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT IS NOW BOARDING AT GATE C-7.” Through some part of his subconscious, he searched his pockets.

The ticket found there by his hand told him it was time to get a move on.

The visor went back into the open duffel bag at his feet. Shaky and disoriented, Kerry exited the stall, went to the sink to splash water on his face, and stepped back out into the populated concourse.

Ahead of him, he saw Gate C-7, and a line of passengers filing into the jet bridge.

Across the continent, Bobby Neptune would be waiting for him with the intent to reclaim his property.

But even though the visor was worthless to him now, Kerry had no intention of giving it away without a fight.

After all, he deserved his cut of meat.

A smile formed on his face as he walked to the end of the line and waited to board.

🐉

The Fels Planetarium bustled with activity.

Contractors and crewmembers moved in unison, carefully setting up scaled-down planetary bodies made up of wire and plaster into a grandiose recreation of the solar system.

At the epicenter of the dome, Kerry Kuroyama stood in silent supervision. He concentrated his gaze on the visor, carefully suspended on a pole erected over a twenty-foot wide recreation of the sun.

“YO, KURRY!!”

Kerry looked, unsurprised to see the chaotic force of nature known as Rezin had wandered his way into the planetarium.

“Erik!” said Kerry, beaming a wide smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He immediately extended a hand. Not used to this level of warmth when interacting with the well-adjusted folk, Rezin reluctantly accepted it.

“Oh, ya know, not much… fightin’ the power… killin’ cops… but since I was in the neighborhood, I figured I’d check in on the ‘beast’ front. Did Bobby’s space visor do the trick?”

Continuing to smile, Kuroyama enthusiastically nodded.

“I’m pleased to say that the issue has been fully resolved,” he said. “Turns out, I was the beast the whole time.”

“Oh! Cool… I think?”

“It was quite the ordeal, I have to admit. But I want you to know, Erik, I couldn’t have gotten here if you hadn’t pushed me.”

“...really?”

The eyes of the Goat Bastard well up in tears.

This is the first time in a long time that anyone’s ever been thankful for his involvement in anything.

“Shucks, Kerr… thankya for sayin’ that! It means a lot to me!”

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Kerry. “It’s really been a ride, but now that my divine powers have been restored, I feel it’s going to be smooth sailing for us from here on out.”

“Yeah, hey, that’s awesome! And, um… wait… what was that about what now?”

“Smooth sailing from here on out, Erik. No more distractions. No more bullshit.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that, but, uhm… what was, uh, like, that whole part about ‘divine powers’ and shit?”

“Ah, right… well, you see, through my journey of self-discovery, I happened to learn that I am the reincarnation of Seiryu, the Great Dragon of the East.”

“...oh…?”

“Yeah. Crazy, right? Turns out, this whole time I was a dragon god. And now I have awoken.”

“...cool. So uhh… that means…?”

“It means glory and prosperity for my friends and retainers, Erik,” said Kerry, quite casually. “And everlasting pain and suffering to anyone who stands in my way.”

If there were a camera, Rezin would be giving it that “call the police” look right now.

…you know, so he can injure them?

“Sounds, um… sound really super, Kerr.”

“It’s beyond super, Erik. It’s a modern-day iconoclasm. And we owe it all to YOU, my friend.”

“Um… WOW… okay…”

“When humanity falls, you will be one of few who is spared,” said Kerry. “Because I will be in need of an intelligent few to breed and prosper as a new caste of servitors.”

The Escape Artist smiled and nodded, making eyes for the exit.

“COOL… cool… well, I sure am glad that whole thing got resolved!”

“As am I, old friend! As you know, this ‘inner beast’ affair has been nothing short of an anchor around my neck! I am now ready to move on to better things! Toward BIGGER things! Like conquering the whole fucking world, one match at a time!”

Confounded by this revelation, Rezin stares.

Was he being fucked with?

Because it sure felt like he’s being fucked with.

In a naked effort to disperse the tension, he forced himself to burst into laughter.

“O-HO-HO… ya really had me there, Kurry! Dragon gods! Conquering the world! Fuggin’ HILARIOUS, I tell ya! But yer just ribbin’ me, right? This is all just some elaborate Vae Victis this, RIGHT? YER JUST FUGGIN’ WITH ME LIKE YA ALWAYS DO, RIGHT?”

Kerry Timberlake’d…

And Rezin went white, slowly shrinking in the shadow of the looming Emerald Apex.

Finally, Kerry leaned in to speak. And for just a moment, the Goat Bastard could swear he saw a glimmer of green light flash across the eyes of the Emerald Apex.

“Erik… am I the type that would joke with you? As you should know by now… I’m SERIOUS with everything I do…”

Around them, the contractors and crewmembers diligently continued to set up the planetarium for an evening on combat and conquest.

Rezin grinned ear to ear like a man who had just met the devil and subsequently did everything in his power to not let on that he had just met the devil.

“Sure, sure, of course ya are!” Rezin dubiously crowed at last. “Anyway… glad I could help ya out with this endeavor, and all that. Guess now would be a good time to go our separate paths and shit… right?”

“If you insist, Erik. Although the new world will need leaders. And progenitors.”

By now, Rezin was already tip-toeing toward the exit.

“DANG! Ya know, I just love proginatin’ and such, but ya know, um… I got, like… I got all this PUNK ROCK shit to do, and I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whole thing, knaw’m’sayin’? So, ya know, I’m just gonna head out and…”

“ERIK…”

“AAH!!”

With his fight or flight instincts kicking in, Rezin immediately threw himself upon the exit and disappeared.

Smiling contentedly, Kuroyama turned his attention back to the planetary pandemonium being built up around him.