The Ballad of Blaster McManus Part 1: The Long Sleep
Jan 12, 2021 22:55:14 GMT -6
Punished Von Brandt, Church, and 2 more like this
Post by Buford "Blaster" McManus on Jan 12, 2021 22:55:14 GMT -6
Darkness. The only light comes from a computer screen that allows you to make out the silhouette of a person. A mouse click is heard followed by a man's voice.
Man: Day 699. In thirty days it will be two years since the subject woke up from his coma. Relocating the facilities to the Summerlin neighborhood in Las Vegas has proven to be very beneficial to his recovery and training. I'm still puzzled by Ramses Sports & Entertainment investing in an unproven performer like Blaster, but the opportunity has motivated him beyond my expectations. His physical attributes are near peak, and he continues to voluntarily train three times a day. It's his mental aptitude that sparks concern from the staff. In ways he has regressed since the long sleep ended. At the same time his diminished state of mind has made him more trusting and I am confident that he will do whatever we tell him. Some of the staff from our previous location chose not to continue with the project when we relocated. The morality of what we are doing has been questioned by many within the team, even myself at times, but I realize that what we are doing can benefit people suffering from CTE for years to come. The manipulation and deception of one man is not enough of a moral dilemma to halt all of the progress we've made regardless of how attached we've become to the subject. End recording.
The mouse clicks again.
Man: I'm a fucking monster.
The scene fades only to reopen to a white haired man walking through the hall of hospital. "699 days ago…" is overlaid at the bottom of the screen before fading. The man, wearing a Doctor’s lab coat and carrying a clipboard, stops when he reaches a room with the name “McManus” on label by the door. He knocks. A deep booming voice comes from within the room instructing him to enter. The doctor was taken back by the massive man lying in the bed before him.
Doctor: Buford McManus?
A big toothy grin comes from the patient.
Patient: That’s me! What’s up Doc?
He chuckles.
Buford McManus: I’ve always wanted to say that, gotta love good old Bugs Bunny. You can call me Blaster by the way the whole world does.
The doctor nods.
Doctor: Blaster it is then. My name is Dr. Allen Barnes. I’m a leading researcher in Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy. I heard from some colleagues that when you woke up earlier today you were telling people that you were from the future. Is that correct?
The smile fades from the face of the big man.
Blaster: Yeah… no one believes me though.
Dr. Barnes: I do.
Blaster: Don’t yank my chain Doc.
Dr. Barnes: I would never dream of it. Would you mind if I sit and talk with you for a while?
Blaster: Sure.
Dr. Barnes takes a seat and folds his arms across his chest.
Dr. Barnes: The staff of this fine hospital who you informed of time traveling adventures have not done the levels of research and study on the human brain that I have. That doesn’t make them less qualified to do their job but it can make them find things that are as far fetched as a highly decorated professional athlete revealing after he had just woken up from a three month long coma that he was sent from the future to save the earth very hard to believe. They are right in questioning such a claim because the type of head injuries you have suffered through your life can certainly make one imagine things that aren’t real. Conversely, I think that the blow to your head caused you to unintentionally reveal a secret that you weren’t supposed to reveal. An injury like you suffered would end the life of a normal man but Mr. McManus, just sitting here looking at you it’s clear to me that you are far from a normal man. I want to help you on your mission.
Blaster looks apprehensive.
Blaster: How can you help? My Time Pod was destroyed.
Dr. Barnes: We can rebuild it.
Blaster wrinkles his brow in confusion.
Blaster: We? You got a mouse in your pocket Doc?
The doctor smiles, stroking the gray stubble on his chin.
Dr. Barnes: I have a team- engineers, electricians, mechanics everything we need to rebuild your vessel. I also have a sports psychologist, nutritionist, and various trainers from Catch Wrestling, Judo, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Sambo, Greco Roman Wrestling...you name it I have a person on the team I’ve assembled to get you ready for the fight ahead of you.
Again Blaster looks extremely confused trying to take in everything the doctor was saying.
Blaster: You mean pro wrestling?
Barnes shakes his head.
Dr. Barnes: No Blaster, you’re going to save the world remember? But I need you to make sure you tell no one about what I’m offering to do for you.
The scene fades once again then reopens to Blaster shirtless in red sweatpants running on a treadmill with wires and probes connected to his bare chest in some kind of high tech gym/laboratory combo. The leads connected to Blaster run to a computer where Dr. Barnes sits. “Present Day” is overlaid but eventually fades from the bottom of the screen.
Dr. Barnes: I think you’re ready Blaster.
Blaster breaths heavy as the treadmill begins slowing down.
Blaster: Hell yeah I am. Never thought I’d be making my pro wrestling debut in Vegas. Thank you for helping me achieve my dream while we keep trying to figure out how to get me back to 2074.
Dr. Barnes: We will get you back, you just focus on your wrestling career. You’ve been out of the spotlight for two years now, it’s time to remind people who you are or at least who they think you are. Just remember, if you’re approached by the media you are Buford “Blaster” McManus, retired football player and aspiring wrestler from Portsmouth, OH and not Captain Blaster McManus of the timeship Ranger 2 who was stranded in 2020 of all years. We can not let anyone know about this facility or our mission. It could cause way more questions than I am at liberty to answer.
As the treadmill comes to a full stop Blaster hops off and Barnes tosses him a bottle of water from a cooler next to him. Blaster sits on the side of the treadmill taking a long swig from the bottle of water before responding.
Blaster: I got ya Doc, the old noggin has healed up good I don’t think I’ll slip up and tell anyone else. I still can’t believe I’m about to make my wrestling debut, just thinking about it gives me goosebumps.
Dr. Barnes: Just don’t let the nerves get to you, our wrestling scout informed me that your first opponent is a giant of a man at nearly seven feet tall and almost four hundred pounds. I never expected you to be at a size disadvantage but you are.
Blaster stands up and flexes, the muscles on top of muscles just ripple.
Blaster: I ain’t scared of The Bastard Warlord, and he’s the one at a disadvantage. He’s bigger sure but I got the power. I’ll toss him around like he’s a buck fifty not some sloppy fat ass with prison tattoos, a bad haircut, and a patchy beard that looks like somebody glued pubes to his face.
Dr. Barnes lets out a hearty laugh.
Dr. Barnes: The confidence is as abundant as the muscles, I love it. I wish you luck in your match but just don’t get caught up in the moment and forget the real task at hand.
Blaster: Yes sir, I won’t forget. We’ve come too far for me to screw it up now, I’m just gonna kick a lil ass, make some money, and head my butt back to the future. I’m gonna catch some Z’s see ya in the morning Doc.
Blaster walks away smiles Dr. Barnes.
Dr. Barnes: Goodnight, Blaster.
As soon as Blaster is out of sight the smile on the doctors face fades and so does the scene.
Man: Day 699. In thirty days it will be two years since the subject woke up from his coma. Relocating the facilities to the Summerlin neighborhood in Las Vegas has proven to be very beneficial to his recovery and training. I'm still puzzled by Ramses Sports & Entertainment investing in an unproven performer like Blaster, but the opportunity has motivated him beyond my expectations. His physical attributes are near peak, and he continues to voluntarily train three times a day. It's his mental aptitude that sparks concern from the staff. In ways he has regressed since the long sleep ended. At the same time his diminished state of mind has made him more trusting and I am confident that he will do whatever we tell him. Some of the staff from our previous location chose not to continue with the project when we relocated. The morality of what we are doing has been questioned by many within the team, even myself at times, but I realize that what we are doing can benefit people suffering from CTE for years to come. The manipulation and deception of one man is not enough of a moral dilemma to halt all of the progress we've made regardless of how attached we've become to the subject. End recording.
The mouse clicks again.
Man: I'm a fucking monster.
The scene fades only to reopen to a white haired man walking through the hall of hospital. "699 days ago…" is overlaid at the bottom of the screen before fading. The man, wearing a Doctor’s lab coat and carrying a clipboard, stops when he reaches a room with the name “McManus” on label by the door. He knocks. A deep booming voice comes from within the room instructing him to enter. The doctor was taken back by the massive man lying in the bed before him.
Doctor: Buford McManus?
A big toothy grin comes from the patient.
Patient: That’s me! What’s up Doc?
He chuckles.
Buford McManus: I’ve always wanted to say that, gotta love good old Bugs Bunny. You can call me Blaster by the way the whole world does.
The doctor nods.
Doctor: Blaster it is then. My name is Dr. Allen Barnes. I’m a leading researcher in Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy. I heard from some colleagues that when you woke up earlier today you were telling people that you were from the future. Is that correct?
The smile fades from the face of the big man.
Blaster: Yeah… no one believes me though.
Dr. Barnes: I do.
Blaster: Don’t yank my chain Doc.
Dr. Barnes: I would never dream of it. Would you mind if I sit and talk with you for a while?
Blaster: Sure.
Dr. Barnes takes a seat and folds his arms across his chest.
Dr. Barnes: The staff of this fine hospital who you informed of time traveling adventures have not done the levels of research and study on the human brain that I have. That doesn’t make them less qualified to do their job but it can make them find things that are as far fetched as a highly decorated professional athlete revealing after he had just woken up from a three month long coma that he was sent from the future to save the earth very hard to believe. They are right in questioning such a claim because the type of head injuries you have suffered through your life can certainly make one imagine things that aren’t real. Conversely, I think that the blow to your head caused you to unintentionally reveal a secret that you weren’t supposed to reveal. An injury like you suffered would end the life of a normal man but Mr. McManus, just sitting here looking at you it’s clear to me that you are far from a normal man. I want to help you on your mission.
Blaster looks apprehensive.
Blaster: How can you help? My Time Pod was destroyed.
Dr. Barnes: We can rebuild it.
Blaster wrinkles his brow in confusion.
Blaster: We? You got a mouse in your pocket Doc?
The doctor smiles, stroking the gray stubble on his chin.
Dr. Barnes: I have a team- engineers, electricians, mechanics everything we need to rebuild your vessel. I also have a sports psychologist, nutritionist, and various trainers from Catch Wrestling, Judo, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Sambo, Greco Roman Wrestling...you name it I have a person on the team I’ve assembled to get you ready for the fight ahead of you.
Again Blaster looks extremely confused trying to take in everything the doctor was saying.
Blaster: You mean pro wrestling?
Barnes shakes his head.
Dr. Barnes: No Blaster, you’re going to save the world remember? But I need you to make sure you tell no one about what I’m offering to do for you.
The scene fades once again then reopens to Blaster shirtless in red sweatpants running on a treadmill with wires and probes connected to his bare chest in some kind of high tech gym/laboratory combo. The leads connected to Blaster run to a computer where Dr. Barnes sits. “Present Day” is overlaid but eventually fades from the bottom of the screen.
Dr. Barnes: I think you’re ready Blaster.
Blaster breaths heavy as the treadmill begins slowing down.
Blaster: Hell yeah I am. Never thought I’d be making my pro wrestling debut in Vegas. Thank you for helping me achieve my dream while we keep trying to figure out how to get me back to 2074.
Dr. Barnes: We will get you back, you just focus on your wrestling career. You’ve been out of the spotlight for two years now, it’s time to remind people who you are or at least who they think you are. Just remember, if you’re approached by the media you are Buford “Blaster” McManus, retired football player and aspiring wrestler from Portsmouth, OH and not Captain Blaster McManus of the timeship Ranger 2 who was stranded in 2020 of all years. We can not let anyone know about this facility or our mission. It could cause way more questions than I am at liberty to answer.
As the treadmill comes to a full stop Blaster hops off and Barnes tosses him a bottle of water from a cooler next to him. Blaster sits on the side of the treadmill taking a long swig from the bottle of water before responding.
Blaster: I got ya Doc, the old noggin has healed up good I don’t think I’ll slip up and tell anyone else. I still can’t believe I’m about to make my wrestling debut, just thinking about it gives me goosebumps.
Dr. Barnes: Just don’t let the nerves get to you, our wrestling scout informed me that your first opponent is a giant of a man at nearly seven feet tall and almost four hundred pounds. I never expected you to be at a size disadvantage but you are.
Blaster stands up and flexes, the muscles on top of muscles just ripple.
Blaster: I ain’t scared of The Bastard Warlord, and he’s the one at a disadvantage. He’s bigger sure but I got the power. I’ll toss him around like he’s a buck fifty not some sloppy fat ass with prison tattoos, a bad haircut, and a patchy beard that looks like somebody glued pubes to his face.
Dr. Barnes lets out a hearty laugh.
Dr. Barnes: The confidence is as abundant as the muscles, I love it. I wish you luck in your match but just don’t get caught up in the moment and forget the real task at hand.
Blaster: Yes sir, I won’t forget. We’ve come too far for me to screw it up now, I’m just gonna kick a lil ass, make some money, and head my butt back to the future. I’m gonna catch some Z’s see ya in the morning Doc.
Blaster walks away smiles Dr. Barnes.
Dr. Barnes: Goodnight, Blaster.
As soon as Blaster is out of sight the smile on the doctors face fades and so does the scene.
