Michael Seidlinger - The Laughter of Strangers

Nothing personal.

I’m just the better fighter. Even if you weren’t sure who was who, I’d let you know how it is in twelve rounds or less. In twelve rounds, you’d meet Willem.

In twelve rounds, you’d meet me.

SO HOW IS WILLEM DOING?

I admit I hurt his image. Willem Floures is a bit of a joke. According to the media, the moment they found out — lies are lies and lies are fatal — there was a massive pilgrimage towards a competing identity.

Different leagues but do they really have it better?

Willem Floures is a name to remember.

NOT SO

They didn’t seem to think so after I had blurred the line between dignity and humility, honesty and slander. I made it so that no one knew what I’d do next…especially me.

How much of it is imagined?

How much of it is uninspired?

EXPLAIN YOURSELF

I lean forward, listening to the first interview. They speak to ‘Buster’ Willem Floures, and the question right about now is the simplest and most difficult to answer:

WHY SHOULD WE CARE?

Willem Floures captured the world’s interest. In order to exist, they will want it to continue. I want to continue. Can I please continue?

This isn’t about me; it is only about ‘me.’

WHO ARE YOU VS WHO I AM

Notice the past tense. It’s a sad song on repeat, echoing throughout every thought. It makes this all so difficult. I have to listen to them like I’m anyone else. I sit here, television viewer, and it’s like the past decades have been unraveled. How much of it is left?

WHY SHOULD WE CARE?

Friends, why should they care about us? Why should they care about you? Why should they care about Willem?

‘Buster’ is being interviewed at the gym. He’s serious, not a single grin or chuckle at the outlandish questions being asked of him before getting to the all-important one, the one question that’ll decide whether or not there is anything to this — anything to him.

“Yeah, so, you had to ask me that question didn’t you?”

The interviewer nods, “Our viewers want to know. The state of the league, as it stands, is in tatters after the recent events. We merely look for some sort of understanding. If you are not able to explain yourself, we worry that our time is being wasted.”

‘Buster’ leans on the ropes, casual cool, “I can explain myself. That’s on me. So you want the full spiel? Yeah? Well my name is Willem Floures. ‘Buster’s’ my alias. You can call me ‘Buster.’ I have six wins, zero losses. All six by knockout. I originally moved up here from the South after I heard about how Spencer Mullen’s training camp was taking in new recruits. I guess there are a whole lot of us. We all think alike. We’re all more or less the same.”

He pauses, “What else…?”

The interviewer offers, “Try talking about why you wanted to become a boxer.”

Nodding, “Sure. I can talk about that. I don’t think I had much of a choice, actually. Fighting followed me. I came from a poor family and I wasn’t very popular in school. Growing up I got beat up a lot. I felt like I was getting the sense beaten out of me. I felt like a zero, kind of useless, you know? And so I did my best to do good in school but it wasn’t for me. I had okay grades but it wasn’t what I had in store. My name was memorable enough so I figured there might be something to it. I ended up choosing boxing instead of basketball and wrestling during junior high. We all got to choose which sport/discipline to study. Boxing was an application. I had to do a lot of soul searching. I had a lot of fight in me. It all clicked together.”

Was I poor?

Had I been bullied as a child?

Willem was a natural fighter. I figure most fighters have to get tossed around, beaten up a bit before coming into their own.

A fighter needs to understand what it’s like to lose before they can ever achieve a win.

I cringe a little when the interviewer switches to another question, the one about me. ‘Me.’ ‘Sugar.’

Will he tell the world what I did?

“Bad times come and go, you know? I went through a bad time. I felt like I was all tied up inside. I had to reassess my decision to fight. You can’t fight if there isn’t a deep meaning of why you fight. See—

“Every fight is soul-searching. It is…”

‘Buster’ searches for the right words before settling with, “The actual dance is the surface. There’s a whole ’nother side to a fight.”

The interviewer thanks ‘Buster’ for the tell-all.

I switch channels.

MY FRIENDS

Do I consider myself a friend?

Do I like myself? Based on what I see next, I get the feeling that I’d be hard to stomach for long periods of time.

Willem Floures is a little self-absorbed.

‘Stinger.’ That’s his alias.

He is invited onto a sports-cast where they discuss and analyze the sports industry at-large.

“Hello Willem, it’s nice to have you here,” says one of the sportscasters.

“Great to be here,” replies ‘Stinger.’

“Now, just to make it clear, you are in no way affiliated or a friend to ‘Sugar’ am I right?”

“That’s correct. ‘Sugar’s’ been around a lot longer than I have.”

The sportscaster nods, “Right. But I’m sure you are aware of what happened the other night on Late Night, yes?”

“Yes, there’s no way I’d forget.”

“So it hurt you personally?”

“Why wouldn’t it? I took it personal. It’s about me.”

“I understand,” the sportscaster backs off a bit, “it’s a lot to handle. Yes…but there have been rumors surrounding ‘Sugar’s’ behavior. I believe it’s escalated to widespread online trashing.”

‘Stinger’ looks disappointed, “Yeah, it’s taken its toll.”

“The widespread belief has to do with a sinister strategy wherein ‘Sugar’ is said to have concocted the web of deceit to get the upper hand on the entire league. Do you care to comment?”

‘Stinger’ sighs and I would like to know beforehand what he’s about to say but when I try and listen, I only end up hearing stale laughter.

EXPLAIN YOURSELF

He exhales, “I think it’s bullshit. We all do crazy things when we’re desperate but I don’t think any of his publicity stunts were designed to generate anything other than more publicity skewed in his favor.”

“So you are saying that ‘Sugar’ was only after favor?”

Nodding, ‘Stinger’ replies, “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Interesting…”

Don’t say anything about the scars on your wrists. Don’t say anything about the scars on your wrists…

“What’s that, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Shit.

“Oh it’s from…night terrors.”

I switch channels before I hear anything else.

EXPLAIN YOURSELF

Oh, wonderful.

In all my channel surfing, I still manage to make it in time for the nightly news. It’s about to start.

I kind of hope there’s nothing about me but we’re not stupid enough to fall back on wishful thinking. All news items deemed “red” will be reported.

It’s the nightly news.

They’ll probably interview ‘James.’

Dynamite.

He’ll detonate whatever’s left of my dignity to save himself and Willem Floures, boxer celebrity, from facing the scrutiny.

A whole different kind of fight bubbles to the surface.

IT BEGINS

The intro sequence provides a sample of tonight’s top news stories. Among the political are a few celebrity scandals.

Tally of the hopeful (hopeful in that they won’t talk about Willem):

Nothing interesting.

Nothing interesting.

Nothing interesting.

Hey look, they discovered a parasite that lives in the human eye.