'The Comedian' Allen Chaney SE1E3: Mixology

THE COMEDIAN' ALLEN CHANEY
Season 1: Episode 3
Mixology

“I thought it would help.”

“You big dumb demon cunt.”

“Watch your language.”

“Eat my asshole, Dan.”

“I’m gonna second the language thing.”

“You eat my ass too, Marty...er...Father. Reverend West. Whatever. Fuck off.”

Okay, this probably needs more context.

Allen had been called into a meeting with his manager; retired wrestling legend Daniel Fitzsimmons. Daniel had been noticing the issues with his ‘investment’ and had been seeking other avenues to perhaps inspire some sort of change in Allen. It was important to Daniel that Allen was doing well because Daniel makes money off of him. It was only upon seeing Reverend Martin West and Allen Chaney in the same room that Daniel realized how misguided this may have been on his part.

“Mr. Fitzsimmons seemed a bit worried about you and thought perhaps you could use someone to talk to or confide in. I heard you just came off of a tough loss and there’s a bit of a worry that perhaps you might hurt somebody or hurt yourself.” Reverend West says.

“Hurt myse- Do you guys think I’m gonna…” Allen says, not finishing the sentence and just letting the awkward silence linger.

“Jesus. No. I just lost a match. I’m fine. There will be plenty of other matches.” Allen says.

“You’re a little out of control is all.” Reverend West says.

“Is this because of my twitter? You know like 90% of that is bullshit, right? I’m not depressed about the loss. I don’t believe there’s some kind of conspiracy based on how I look or anything. I’m stirring up shit. Exposing folks for who they really are. Save for my birthday that...no, yeah you were right to tell me to delete all of that.” Allen says to Daniel. Reverend West clears his throat to get Allen’s attention.

“Allen, I’m not here to preach to you or convert you. If you’re interested, let’s go have a drink and just talk.” Martin says. Allen looks understandably suspicious about this development. He looks at Daniel, then Martin, then Daniel, then Martin again.

“I’m buying. Bar is right across the street.” Martin says. Another pause.

“Okay, Holy man… but I’m splitting if you try to hypnotize me or whatever Catholics do.” Allen says.

“I’m Lutheran.”

“I couldn’t possibly give less of a shit.”

“Anyone ever tell you what a charming guy you are?”

“Only folks trying to sell me something. Lead the way, Rev. My mouth is dry.”

“I know a man who gave up smoking, drinking, sex, and rich food. He was healthy right up to the day he killed himself.”
-Johnny Carson 

We find ourselves in the sad cat dad apartment of The Comedian but at the very least it has been cleaned and made presentable for the viewing public. Allen is standing in front of a bar and has a few assorted bottles and bartending equipment out. He twirls a long bar spoon.

ALLEN CHANEY: Beer and wine is mighty fine… But to me nothing beats a cocktail. ESPECIALLY if you put in the work Any dipshit can show up and dump Jack Daniels and Coca Cola into a cup with ice and there’s nothing wrong with that but when you really put in the effort it all feels a little more worth it, doesn’t it?

Allen sets the bar spoon down and cracks his knuckles.

ALLEN CHANEY: I feel like kind of a fancy bitch today so we’re gonna elevate a gin and tonic. Into the shaker goes an ounce of London Dry Gin...any of the big three works. Beefeater, Tanqueray, or Bombay. Tanqueray is what I got so we’re gonna do 1 and a half ounces of that in the shaker.

Allen measures the booze in his jigger and dumps it into the shaker.

ALLEN CHANEY: Now I was trying to think of something that doesn’t take away from this being a gin and tonic but instead elevates it to another level. I decided on St. Germains which is an Elderflower Liqueur. Elderflower can have a really overpowering flavor so I think we’re just gonna do a half ounce.

Allen dumps the half ounce in the shaker.

ALLEN CHANEY: Now a lot of people would mix this in the glass with Ice and then pour tonic water to finish but I want to taste the spirits and the tonic and not the ice so not only are we mixing this in the shaker, we are going to do something a liiiiiiittle different. Tomr’s Tonics makes a tonic syrup concentrate. The plain old Fever Tree bottled tonic water is... it’s fine but this has a LOT more depth of flavor beyond just quinine. That goes in the shaker as well with some crushed ice.

Allen adds an ounce of the tonic to the shaker. He closes the shaker and gives it a good mixing. Finally, He pops it open and uses a Hawthorne strainer to do a gated pour into a rocks glass that has slices of cucumber already in it, keeping any ice from making it into the glass and relying on the chilled cucumber as a substitute that won’t dilute anything.

ALLEN CHANEY: And since you obviously want that tonic carbonation you usually get but are using a syrup instead we top off the glass with seltzer water and what the hell? Garnish with a fresh sprig of rosemary because I’m a bad bitch and I deserve it. Slainte.

Allen takes a drink and releases a noise of contentment.

ALLEN CHANEY: That’s delicious. It has so many more layers than your regular gin and tonic. It kind of evolves in your mouth. You get a little of the cucumber and rosemary and it just… it’s incredibly refreshing and you know what? I deserved a good drink with how things have been going lately.

Allen takes another drink and sets the glass on a coaster.

ALLEN CHANEY: Magic Bitch was very quick to throw out the hashtag ‘Step Up or Shut Up’ on twitter in response to me pointing out the obvious favoritism shown to her since this company was formed. It’s a clever way to seem brave whilst attempting to silence legitimate criticism. As far as ‘step up’ goes? Name the time and place. You won’t, because that isn’t actually what you want. I think you know that if the two of us were to face each other in a straight fight I would be proven right. I would beat every last drop of credibility out of you and everyone in this company would be forced to admit you won that title on a fluke. I work harder than you. I wrestle better than you. And as far as the ‘shut up’ aspect of your neat little catchphrase? Hang on.

Allen leaves the room with his drink, the camera following him as he goes to the elevator in his apartment complex and getting on. He rides it to the top floor (taking the occasional sip of his delicious cocktail) and goes to a set of stairs that leads him to the roof where he has a megaphone waiting for him. He takes another sip of his drink and clears his throat before guiding the megaphone to his lips.

ALLEN CHANEY: STEP UP AND FUCKING MAKE ME.

After a cut we are back in Allen’s apartment at his bar and he steps back into frame, now finishing his drink. Bill looks confused. Everything is clean and his human is up and moving around. This confusion quickly subsides into interest in a nap which he walks off camera to take on the couch.

ALLEN CHANEY: I’ll get around to stepping up eventually. Until then I am going to talk as much shit on you as I want and you aren’t gonna do a single thing about it because you’re a coward. I’ve got a few sidequests to knock out before I focus back on the main questline, as a nerd might say. Speaking of which…

Allen releases a disappointed sigh as he has to switch topics.

ALLEN CHANEY: I gave Pinky-dick a warning. I gave him an out. He didn’t take it. Whatever happens is all on him now. As amused as I have been scrolling through twitter to see him talk mad shit on that absolute doorknob Ross Hanson… he is the common thread in my two biggest losses here so far. This man has cost me two championships. Two chances this company had to be the most talked about promotion in the world and now look at us. Denzel Porter barely even mentions us anymore. It’s all talk of NFW and NFW is an absolute dumpster fire and also the contents of that dumpster is human waste. NFW is a flaming poopoo peepee dumpster and the very reputable and handsome Denzel Porter spends more time covering it than us and it’s all Pinky-dick’s fault. I have to fix that. I have taken the weight of this company’s ratings and success upon my shoulders and Pinkston stands in direct opposition to that success. You do the math there.

Allen gestures to the camera, inviting us to ‘do the math’.

ALLEN CHANEY: So now that brings me to my opponent who...exists.

An awkward silence.

ALLEN CHANEY: Whenever I’m approached by a woman named Angel dressed like this one is they’re usually telling me they’re just stripping to get through college but apparently the origins of this Angel is something something Satan something something Evil something something. Well Angel I ain’t gonna go down to the old crossroads and line up with all the shitty blues musicians to make any kind of deal. I mean, I happen to know a guy who may or may not think he’s the Devil and we’re pretty chill with each other but I think he’s just a real tall scary dude and not Old Scratch himself. So logic would dictate I should have God or Jesus himself on my side to face off against you but that also isn’t really my bag. So I did some soul searching and dug deep and decided that I’m gonna be showing up with a different member of the Pantheon of the Gods on my side to defeat you. A deity who represents rebirth, fertility, and a bountiful harvest.

Allen holds up his ‘symbol of worship’. It appears to be...a colored egg?

ALLEN CHANEY: The Easter Bunny. What can Beelzebub do to me that is worse than having to eat a marshmallow Peep that has been out of its wrapper for a full day? Sure he has hellfire and all of that but how good is he at hiding eggs? The Easter Bunny is powerful, stealthy...and is exactly 100 percent as real as this Satan character you seem to like so much.

Allen shrugs with a sort of ‘Ain’t I a stinker?’ look on his face.

ALLEN CHANEY: Praise be to the Paas egg dye, the Jelly Bean, and the almighty cadbury cream egg. All hail his flopsy ears and adorable cotton tail. Death to the farmer protecting his carrots and lettuce and uh…. I think I’m mixing up my fictional rabbits. I’m pretty checked out right now to be honest.

Allen takes the gin-soaked cucumber from his drink glass and takes a bit of it, taking a brief moment to savor the flavor.

ALLEN CHANEY: So Angel, let’s get this straight. If I am able to resist the urge to stuff 1 dollar bills in your wrestling outfit or ask if you wanna go to the champagne room I am going to kick your ass. Like so many before you, your night ends in a Punchline and a Pin and I move on to the next thing having forgotten this match has even happened a week from now. I don’t mean to sound dismissive, cold, or cruel but….well I am those things so that’s how it comes out. You can bring all your spooky friends. You can dump a bucket of pigs blood on me as the match starts but quite frankly that’s precisely the sort of thing that arouses me. I have issues. I’m in therapy. Doubt it will help but at least effort is being made, dammit. I need you to look at me and I need you to answer me honestly. How do you think this is gonna go? I am over 350 pounds of the worst fucking night of your life. You can bring all the imaginary friends you want to and it ain't gonna make a lick of fucking difference. I’m more than a little peeved about how my last match went so when that bell rings I am going to have a lot of fun making absolute fuckmuckery out of your face.

Allen looks around at what he has on his bar again for a few moments before makign a decision.

ALLEN CHANEY: There are many elements to making an amazing cocktail just like there are elements to being a great competitor. Some people are looking for flavor. Some people want something cool and refreshing. So let’s make a new drink for Angel. Let’s call it ‘The Comedian’. We’re gonna shake a very generous pour of 151 overproof rum with blue curacao, a little bit of malibu rum, and some pineapple juice. Shake it over ice. No pretty glass. No pineapple frond for garnish.

Allen is mixing the drink as he speaks before he pours it into a simple pint glass. The blue and the brown and the yellow coming together to make a kind of gross greenish brown color.

ALLEN CHANEY: So here you go, Angel. A cocktail for you but I invite everyone on the roster to give it a try. The Comedian. It isn’t pretty but you know what? It’ll fuck you right up.

Allen extends the drink to the camera.

ALLEN CHANEY: Drink it, bitches. Set-up. Punchline.

Allen smirks as the camera fades out.

‘So...a Comedian and a Reverend walk into a bar…’ 

“I mean...I’ve thought about it. I feel like everyone has thought about it. It’s not for me. As shitty as all of this is, I’m more terrified of the idea of it just being over. Of course you don’t get all of that because you believe in the….” Allen says, pointing upward before taking a drink of the shitty gin and tonic the bartender had prepared him. He makes a mental note that he could definitely make this better. Might be something to mine there for the thing he had to film later. 

“Most people who say they aren’t afraid of dying are liars. It’s a fine thing to say but it isn’t until we’re faced with the reality of our mortality that we really find out who we are. I believe if I’ve been a good man I will go to heaven. But I have people I love and look after here. I’m engaged to a beautiful woman whom I love very much. I’m in no rush. I like what I have here.” Martin says, taking a sip of his scotch. He’s taken off his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair so his clerical collar is on full display. 

“So not only can you drink and smoke and...you can get married?” Allen asks. 

“Still not Catholic. Also I lived a lot of life before I put this collar on. I have a child. My church is very...forgiving. Every good church should be.” Martin says. 

“Ah. So you did that thing where you get to get weird for a while before you have to return to your people.” Allen says. 

“That’s the Amish. So you keep going just because of the uncertainty then? The fear of what happens after?” Martin asks, holding up two fingers to the bartender as they pass. 

“I don’t think anything happens after. That’s the scary bit to me. Just being…nothing.” Allen says, just kind of looking into the middle distance for a moment before snapping out of it and finishing his drink. 

“So what do you intend to do here if you think that this is it?” The Reverend asks. 

“Make my problems everyone else’s problem. I get a lot of satisfaction out of my work. I don’t know that I actually like hurting people...I just like being good at something. I know I’m good at that. That’s pretty much been the only constant.” Allen says as another drink is poured for him. Wasn’t even shaken, just gin and tonic poured over ice. Allen rolls his eyes. 

“That’s a very rehearsed answer designed to make you seem like a real tough guy. Not saying you aren’t a tough guy but… I just feel like that wasn’t very honest.” Martin says, nodding his head to the bartender as he’s poured another Black Label Johnnie Walker.  

“Just because I’m not telling you everything doesn’t mean I’m not being honest. Wrestling is the one thing I’ve been pretty consistently successful at. The Comedy took a huge hit because of the pandemic… then there was the show. I’m done talking about the show. This was something I could always fall back on.” Allen says, leaning over the bar and grabbing a drink umbrella from the drink station to finish stirring his poorly mixed drink. 

“A lot of people helped you get there, too. Some of them have tried reaching out. You put up a pretty big wall.” Martin asks. No stirring necessary when you order your liquor straight.  

“I was pretty open about needing help a while back. I needed it but everyone was apparently too busy dealing with Lucifer or some cult or Devil who produces tv shows now or whatever. Now I help myself. No one can stab you in the back if you don’t trust anyone enough to look away from them. Works even better if no one is there at all.” Allen says, he takes another sip of his drink and winces. 

“Sounds lonely.” 

“I’ve got a cat.”

  

“They aren’t really all that great for conversation.” 

“Better than most of the PWE roster.” Allen says, about ready to give up on his gin and tonic.  

“You talk like you’ve dealt with the problem. Not acknowledging the problem isn’t the same thing as dealing with it. In fact it’s basically the opposite. One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” Martin says. Proverbs 18:24.  

“I’m trying really really hard to not look at you condescendingly right now for going all Jesus-y on me.” Allen says, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. 

“You aren’t doing a great job of it but your effort is noted and appreciated. Interpret it another way then. Maybe the Lord isn’t the answer to that question for you. Who is? Daniel?” Reverend West asks. Allen actually thinks it over a bit.  

“Not a bad question but definitely not Daniel. I like having Daniel as a manager because we’re honest with each other and he’s been pretty blunt about not caring about me as a person at all. I feel the same way about him but I mean…” Allen is hesitant to continue. 

“You mean what?” Martin asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Like... I don’t hate this.”  

“This as in what?” 

“This as in ‘this’ right now. I’m not gonna say you’re my ‘brother’ or whatever but like… I dunno. I assume no one is paying you to be here. I guess that’s a start.” The Comedian says. He reaches behind the bar again and grabs a lime wedge, hoping maybe even just a touch of citrus will save his drink.  

“No one is paying me to be here, no.” 

“Well then what are you doing here? And don’t say anything gross like ‘I go where I’m needed’ or ‘This is my mission’ or whatever. I’m not interested in being anyone’s special project.” Allen asks, a little worried now. 

“...This is gonna sound real silly.” Martin says. 

“I’m listening.” 

“...All my other friends quit drinking and I have a personal rule against drinking alone.” Martin says, taking another pull from his scotch. 

Allen blinks a few times before he starts cracking up. 

“Wow. No, yeah that’s...that’s actually pretty fuckin funny, padre.” Allen says. He sips the gin and tonic. The lime helped, but not much. After the laughter dies down there is a moment of silence before The Comedian speaks up. 

“Of course...of course I get lonely. It sucks just talking to the cat all day but… I’ve found it’s a lot easier to be lonely than to put my trust in someone and any time that loneliness starts to get too loud I lash out. Because if I push everyone away then no one can hurt me.” Allen says, not able to make eye contact as he says this, so just staring into his drink. Martin puts a hand on Allen’s shoulder and he looks up.  

“That was a pretty decent confession. You want me to make it official?” Martin asks, setting down his drink and turning on his barstool to face Allen. 

“Whatever gives you your Jesus Jollies, Holy Man.” Allen says, looking away from his disappointing drink, at least a little curious about how all this works.  

“So...God be merciful to you and strengthen your faith. Do you believe that my forgiveness is God’s forgiveness?” Martin says. 

“Fuck naw.” Allen says before Martin places his hand on Allen’s head. 

“In the stead and by the command of my Lord Jesus Christ I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Go in Peace” Martin adds before taking his hand away from Allen’s head. 

“Dick.” Allen says with a chuckle. Martin chuckles back and the two of them clink their glasses and finish their drinks.