Francis Fyre was ready to break the desk. Francis’ team surrounded him in his manager Joe’s office, but he could tell they were all against him. Joe asked him to step out of his wrestling character. Joe didn’t want to talk to Francis Fyre, the wrestler. Joe wanted to talk to the man, Barry.
“Barry’s not here,” Francis Fyre said in a rough voice. He was glaring at everyone in the room—the room was too small for this meeting.
“Barry, here’s the concern,” Joe began.
“Barry’s not here.”
Joe talked to Barry like a parent to a child, “Francis, here’s the concern. You’re a great wrestler. They love you on the circuit, and the fans love you. Still, you can’t be Francis Fyre all the time.”
“Why not?” Francis said. He was ready to throw his chair, and everyone knew it. Why did they leave a folding chair in the room? The only thing worse would have been if they were all wearing referee jerseys.
“Wrestling isn’t real,” Joe said.
“Yes, it is,” Francis said.
“It is a real job. You’re an outstanding performer, but it follows a script. People play parts,” Joe said. “You’re suffering from wrestle mania.”
This comment hit Francis hard. Wrestle mania is a condition in which wrestlers can no longer tell the difference between reality and the stage.
“I’m a wrestler. It’s real. That’s how I stay in character.”
“On 5th Avenue the other day, you tackled a fan who said you were washed up,” Joe yelled.
“If you don’t want to get burned, don’t play with Fyre,” Francis yelled back, invoking his famous catchphrase.
“Yeah, we know. We get it. However, for you to be allowed to continue wrestling, we need you to be interviewed as Barry. We need you to apologize to the fans, the guy you put in the hospital and the whole organization.”
“Barry’s not here.”
“Listen, Barry, do you think I’m manager Joe all day? No, I have hobbies. I like to paint. I have a life outside of this world. I’m friends with one of those TV cable news anchors. He’s the same way. It’s a character.”
“No, this is the real world! I take on the enemies and bring about justice!”
“We’re all acting sometimes,” Joe said. “You have to know when you’re in the ring and when you’re out of it. You’re an actor!”
Francis Fyre leaped up and grabbed the folding chair. Everyone backed up against the wall behind Joe in fear.
“I didn’t want to have to do this, Barry,” Joe said, and he hit the intercom button. “Bring in his mother.”
Barry let the chair fall to the floor as the door opened.