SE2E2: Laundry Day

'THE COMEDIAN' ALLEN CHANEY
SEASON 2: EPISODE 2

Laundry Day

“When you go to a bar that has a black light, everybody looks cool. Except for me, because I was under the impression that the mustard stain came out.”

-Mitch Hedberg

“Did you have to bring your title belt to this?” Dr. Howell asks.

Allen was, in fact, wearing his championship belt in his Psychologists office. Its elegance clashed with his gym shorts, Ollie Dorito t-shirt ($24.99 on PWEShop.com. 20% off with discount code ‘SEASON2’) with a mustard stain, and Crocs with socks. Did I mention Fanny pack. Dude’s got on a fanny pack. Didn’t know they made the straps for them that big.

“I mean if you accomplished something you’ve been working super hard for for a long time and there was a physical manifestation of it wouldn’t YOU bring it everywhere?” Allen asks, taking a moment to brush it off a little bit. He clearly cared more about it than any of his other accessories. He briefly wonders when he last had anything with mustard on it. Last thursday? Had he not cleaned this shirt since then?

“Allen, I have a Doctorate. It’s there on the wall. It took me six years to get it. It stays here when I leave.” Dr. Howell says.

“Yeah but if you had a ‘Doctorate Jacket’ that let everyone know you had a doctorate and also it looked rad as hell wouldn’t you wear it all the time?” Allen asks as he uses his phone to add ‘laundry’ to his list of things to do. The mustard stain would be conquered.

“Fair enough. I’m just a little worried.”

“Worried about what? Things are going super well for me right now.”

“I know. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in that chair and been in a great mood. You always show up the week after in a bad mood. High highs and low lows. It’s a pattern so let’s try and get ahead of it this time.” Dr. Howell says as he opens his notepad and grabs a pen. Allen hated that notepad. It meant his Psychiatrist was actually about to start doing his job that he is being paid for.

Damn it.

“So how did you celebrate such an occasion?”

‘Well some folks congratulated me backstage but I think a lot of people are still nervous around me. Can’t say I blame them. Once they were gone I just kinda laid there for a bit and basked in it alone.” Allen says.

“I think you know what I meant by ‘celebrate’ Mr. Chaney.” Howell says, looking up from his notepad. There is a bit of an accusatory nature to his tone.

“I didn’t drink if that’s what you were implying.” Allen replies in lieu of just giving him the finger.

“Kind of. I meant more about your efforts to be more social. I’m certain there was a more official celebration of your victory. One where you weren’t alone. How did that go? I’m guessing it was at the Violet Bunny place you always talk about?”

“Velvet Rabbit. And yes. I went there. People were nice even if it was weird.”

“Weird? How?”

“I just…I dunno. How do people who don’t drink celebrate? Like, legit question. I feel like I should be doing SOMETHING. People kept offering to buy me drinks and I had to be like ‘Ha, I have to get up early tomorrow so that’s probably not a good idea’. I visited the strip club and kept turning down drinks so they kept buying me lap dances and after a certain point you’ve just got a friction boner. By the time a fourth lady is sent to the champagne room I tell her not to take it personal but I can’t feel anything below my waist anymore because once downstairs realizes the stimulation isn’t going anywhere you’re basically stuck with a case of numb-crotch. Then I noticed she had a black lotus tattoo and recognized the design and asked if the design was from ‘Magic:The Gathering’ and she said yes so for like four songs someone else paid for me and a stripper talked about old school ‘Magic: The Gathering’. So I guess….kinda? I kinda did okay at being social? I dunno, I think I might be broken but I didn’t hate it. Went home sober with a stiffy that could punch a hole in kevlar, took some melatonin gummies, and passed out. Only drank ginger ale.” Allen says as Dr. Howell wished he knew significantly less about his patients' erections but still took notes.

“That is legitimately encouraging to hear, Allen. I want you to keep one thing in mind, though… However good you may think you are, you aren’t going to have that belt forever. You can stay away from the bottle when things are going well but… someday things won’t be going well. We’ve made progress before only for you to regress. I don’t want that to happen again.” Howell says.

“So, prepare for my own inevitable eventual failure. That’s maybe the most negative advice I’ve ever been given, Doc. I don’t want to put myself in the mindset of failure. Champions aren’t the dudes who are planning for what’s gonna happen when they fail. I’m looking ahead to my next fight, not my next loss. I see no vision of grand success. I also don;t see an abysmal failure. I’m gonna go to work and do what I do.” Allen says, trying not to sound too offended at his shrink’s implication and not doing a very good job.

“I like the positivity. I really do. I just want you to keep that in mind when things do get tough.” Dr. Howell says.

“Fine.” Allen says, arms folded.

There is a long moment of silence.

“So… numb-crotch? Is that really a thing?”

“Dude I was standing at attention but couldn’t feel anything anymore like when your foot falls asleep. it was SO CONFUSING.”

“Right. There is something else I want to discuss.”

“Yeah? Aside from numb-crotch?”

“Imposter syndrome.”

“In regards to…?”

“You carry that belt everywhere because you want everyone to know that you’re the champion. It’s almost like a part of you doesn’t accept it as fact as well.” Howell says. Allen looks at his title belt.

‘So let’s talk about Damian and Vhodka.”

Fuck. Allen hated this. Like a magician revealing ‘The Prestige’ bit of the trick after a bunch of misdirection. Why couldn’t this prick just let Allen continue to exist in the reality where he’s fooled himself into being happy. He WAS happy holding that championship but with Damian and Vhodka still out there? The job only felt half done. He resented them for the way they left. For the unanswered questions. For sort of becoming his friend and then leaving. Leaving him with all this weight to carry. He was glad to carry the weight on his own, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to carry it with him? Someone he respected? He knew this new crop was good. Had people he liked in it. But history shows they’d all abandon Allen, too.

"You’re doing that thing again where you’ve gone completely silent but I can literally see you staring off into the distance having a conversation with yourself."

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING BRAIN, WITCH!”

“To be fair you have a pretty terrible poker face. About most of everything, really. So let’s get into it….”

An alarm goes off on Howell’s phone

“...next week.”

A small sigh of relief from Saved by the bell. Ooh, Saved By The Bell! He hadn’t done that one before. He was stuck with fucking Seinfeld this week. Two weeks ago that sounded like a good idea but now….ugh.

“That’s our time, Mr. Chaney. This is for a refill on your xanax. Just remember… this positivity looks good on you. I’m not trying to bring you down. I’m trying to stop you from bringing YOURSELF down. Again.” Howell says, handing over a prescription sheet.

Fucker.

“Have a great day, Mr. Chaney.”

Allen narrows his gaze at Dr. Howell before snatching the prescription sheet and adjusting his title on his shoulder before walking out the door. Howell suddenly remembers something he wanted to say and calls after him outside the door.

“Oh and you have a mustard stain on yo-”

“Yeah I ate a corn dog out of your wife's pussy before I got here. Eat shit.” Allen calls from the hall before another door slams. Howell continues writing and has a little chuckle.

A chaotic bassline plays as we find Allen Chaney in a comedy club in the early 90’s wearing a blazer with the sleeves rolled up.

ALLEN CHANEY: What’s the deal with being Top Champion in a wrestling company? It’s like for a year people are telling me how good I am. Then all of a sudden I win the thing that shows how good I am and all of a sudden people are telling me I suck and was never good.

The audience laughs because they are scripted to. This is not a legitimate attempt at stand-up comedy. This is a parody of how a famous tv show opened. Try and keep up.

ALLEN CHANEY: And what’s the deal with Jerry Seinfeld having a career after we all found out he dated an underage girl? You search his name and it’s all Bee Movie memes and…you know what? We’re cutting the whole Seinfeld thing. Let’s cut.

Allen motions for the camera to cut and it cuts to Allen arguing with the Director, wearing a neckbrace after being put through a table last time.

THE DIRECTOR: We built a whole set already and everything. Jerry’s apartment.

ALLEN CHANEY: Well I’m not saying let’s not pay the crew I’m saying let’s just scrap this whole thing and I’ll cut my losses. They’ll get paid for the day and I’m still buying lunch.

THE DIRECTOR: After you flew your weird friend and his possum out here?

Ollie Linkoln (dressed as Kramer) enters with Rocky the Raccoon in his arms wearing a tiny little George Costanza costume. It’s adorable.

OLLIE LINKOLN: Whoa whoa. He’s a Raccoon. And he’s also in SAG so you’re damn right he’s getting paid for the day. I’m lucky at least. You’re dressed like that groomer dude and I’m just dressed like Kramer. Not like Kramer ever did anything problematic.

Allen blinks a few times before taking out his phone.

ALLEN CHANEY: Siri, search for ‘Michael Richards Controversy’.

Allen then holds up his phone screen to Ollie’s face.

OLLIE LINKOLN: Ah. Ah geez. Yeah, I’m out.

Ollie gives the ‘peace out’ sign and walks away.

THE DIRECTOR: It’s really weird that you keep doing this sitcom parody thing and it has not worked out for you even ONCE.

ALLEN CHANEY: The sass is a little weird from a dude I’ve put through a table recently because he called my perfect angel baby cat ‘Ugly’.

THE DIRECTOR: That’s fair.

ALLEN CHANEY: Let’s just a green screen up and do the promo. No sitcom shit. Just the Excellence Champion and a camera. I’ma go get changed.

THE DIRECTOR: Okay, we can get you a clean t-shirt if you need it. I noti-

Allen glares.

THE DIRECTOR: I mean we can get you a shirt that’ll look better in front of the green screen.

ALLEN CHANEY: Ah, yeah. Good call… just one thing. Have the crew bring the coffee table from the set. Just in case…

Allen pauses.

ALLEN CHANEY: …someone needs to set down their coffee.

Allen walks off to get changed and the Director takes a few breaths. We cut again to Allen standing in front of a greenscreen playing footage of him winning the World Title over and over again. Allen is (with the help of a belt extender) wearing the Excellence Title around his waist.

ALLEN CHANEY: What a fuckin season premiere, huh?

Allen unclips the belt and just holds it and looks at it for a moment.

ALLEN CHANEY: Okay, let’s get this bit out of the way. This is the first time you’ve seen me since I won this. A lot of people who win titles are really cool and aloof about it and I am absolutely not either of those things so-

Allen holds up the Excellence title.

ALLEN CHANEY: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! OH FUCK! OH HOLY FUCKING SHIT I WON THE THING! I WON THE BIG IMPORTANT THING AND IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD AAAAAAAAH!

Allen runs back and forth across the screen holding up the title, as if to do a few ‘victory laps’.

ALLEN CHANEY: I DID IT! ME! I AM THE MOST SPECIAL BOY WHO DID THE WINNING! EVERYONE IS VERY IMPRESSED WITH ME AND LIKES ME!

Allen stops mid-lap and is clearly a little short of breath. Hhe lowers the Excellence Championship and takes a moment to check his pulse on his neck and heart rate on his Apple Watch as he regains his composure.

ALLEN CHANEY: Okay. Okay. Glad we got that out of the way. But yeah, after gunning for it from day one and fighting my way through the best talent this company had to offer as well as that Bull guy that one time who was named Brick or some shit I am now the Excellence Champion. You’d think maybe now that I have this championship and I’m booked in a non-title match I’d relax, maybe take it easy. Not put so much pressure on myself but nah. Fuck that. I said that I wanted to be the standard-bearer for this company. Winning this didn’t get rid of the chip on my shoulder. That chip on my shoulder will always be there so long as anyone on this planet doubts me and now that I’m the Champion I’ve invited all kinds of doubt. The chip is even bigger and everyone in this company should be really REALLY concerned about that. I’m one of the rare cases where it’s actually beneficial that no matter how much I actually succeed I will never stop craving validation. Self-Actualization always feels unattainable! Had an emotionally distant father! World Champ! Woo!

The therapy bit was earlier, fat-ass. Allen slings the title belt over his shoulder.

ALLEN CHANEY: Tank. His name was Tank. I knew I’d get there eventually.

Allen taps his temple. He was having an easier time remembering stuff lately.

ALLEN CHANEY: So my first stop on the ‘King of Comedy Special Edition’ era of the Must-See Massacre brings me back to something I discussed recently. My brief excursion in FIGHT! NYC before a guy died or whatever. I think we have a clip?

Allen turns to the greenscreen behind him which just reads ‘404 SITE NOT FOUND’.

ALLEN CHANEY: …or not. Fuck. Anyway, I’ll give you the gist. This company brings me to their building to sign a contract and as soon as the ink is dry on the motherfucker I hit the ring and smash the first dude I see with a chair because prison rules say to kick someone’s ass the first day if you want respect. That dude turned out to be Dane Preston. Handsome dude. Decent enough guy. Was nothing personal. SO I get booked against him for my first match in FIGHT and I have a chance to prove myself… but not only is my heart not in it after PWE initially closed down but…okay this is gonna sound like an excuse but it’s really me outing how big of a dumbass I am. It was a gimmick match and I did not bother to learn what the rules were. I’m not saying I woulda won if I did but…there it is. Dane has a win over me. I can’t take that away from him.

Allen’s voice is sincere. He got beat. He isn’t denying it.

ALLEN CHANEY: So let’s jump ahead then to this last show. The show where, by the way I don’t know if I mentioned this I BECAME EXCELLENCE CHAMPION. The show where after blowing a ton of hot air and cursing his name you had your chance to prove yourself in a new place just like I did against you… and just like I did, you lost. I know you’ll probably make the argument that you lost because of a technicality in the stipulation but…

Allen gestures to himself and then to the camera.

ALLEN CHANEY: …See what I’m getting at? Are you picking up what I’m putting down? I started on the lid of this mayo jar, I think maybe you can open it the rest of the way.

The gesture repeats a few times.

ALLEN CHANEY: So that makes us even kinda, don’t it? Well, not really actually. There’s just one unfortunate reality to all of this, Dane. Ya see, Florida has ‘Stand Your Ground’ and ‘Castle’ laws and you just so happen to be in my fucking house. You want a list of places where comedians are absolutely in their element? Bill Hicks in London, Bill Burr in Boston, George Carlin in Carnegie Hall… and Allen Chaney in a PWE Ring. If you happen to think that doesn’t make any difference then I think you can feel comforted in continuing to think that right up until I spike you right onto the point of your very handsome skull and do damage to your very handsome spine.

Allen winks. It’s awkward. That’s intentional.

ALLEN CHANEY: That’s all failing to mention the simple fact that once upon a time I let Pinkston get under my skin just the same as you did and when the time came for it to be settled? I took fucking care of it. I used to talk a lotta shit about how Pinkston doesn’t belong here and maybe a lot of that was veiled self-deprecation about how sometimes ‘I’ used to feel like maybe I don’t belong in this business which, I mean…

Allen brushes off the Excellence Championship a little bit.

ALLEN CHANEY: But the fact remains that that dude gave me a good fight. He gave Damian Ayla a good fight, too. He tried to pull some slick shit on us then, too. Just like he did with you. See Damian and I both won, though. As far as I know Pinkston and I are pretty chill, now. It makes sense you’re booked against me the more that I think about it, in fact. I think he wants to see you get the shit beaten out of you. I’m not picking any kind of side in your little dispute with him but when it comes down to it? I’m showing up to this because I like beating the shit out of people and once that bell rings you’re the only person I’m legally allowed to beat the shit out of so I’m gonna beat the shit out of you because that is one of the things I really really like to do. You know I’ve had a few tough losses but I’ve never been beaten by someone I hated and then found out that same night that person was now my BOSS. Someone may have thrown the towel in but morally and mentally? That’s maybe the biggest ass-kicking anyone in PWE has ever taken. Bravo.

Allen chuckles a little bit.

ALLEN CHANEY: That’s not cockiness. It’s…’confidence’. It’s a new thing I’ve been trying out in season two and the shit is doing wonders.

Finger-guns. Confident finger guns.

ALLEN CHANEY: Kanna and Issak. You’re both real fuckin good and I’m glad you’re in this company, so I mean no disrespect with what I’m about to say. Issak Otto is tough as fuck but he had just been put through hell by Kanna Verger when he got to me. I am owed a fresh opponent. I am owed a proper fucking fight against an opponent who wants to REALLY kick my ass and I’ll talk all kinds of shit and maybe even pop on a Lewis Chad Pinkston mask to get it. Oh, and by ‘Fight’ I don’t mean talking shit on twitter, Dane. You seem pretty good at that. It really seems like you want a whiff of everybody’s dirty laundry. Some of us ain’t got the time for that ‘Drama Alert’ shit you seem to be neck deep in but if you want to say something about my personal life you can put the phone down for five minutes and say it to my face and see how that shit pans out for you. You throw shade at The Comedian online you ain’t getting an angry quote tweet or any venom. You’re gonna get a silly little reply along with a picture of the Hot Dog Toilet and the next time I see you I’m putting you through the catering table. You can call it ‘match promotion ‘ as much as you want but fucking around and arguing on twitter all day is some real ‘Teenager Crap’ from the so-called ‘Mr. Adult Shit.’

Allen let’s that one settle for a bit before moving on.

ALLEN CHANEY: Do you think it’s an accident that I am facing someone with their name so heavily attached to other companies? Nah, this is EXACTLY what I wanted. I want every Heckler from OCW and Level Up and everyone else who hopped over here from FIGHT to learn exactly what the fucking score is. This is Pro Wrestling EXCELLENCE and I dare a motherfucker to tell me they have a better show, a better roster, or a better ANYTHING. You’ve accomplished a lot, Dane. I’m sure you’ll accomplish more and I’d bet you’ll accomplish a lot in PWE. But that doesn’t start here for you, bud. I have to make an example out of you. Nothing personal. Really. I mean that. It’s gonna feel personal but it isn’t. Promise. I mean I do have a win to get back so maybe it’s a little personal. Just a tad. Teeny lil bit.

Allen holds up his index finger and thumb to indicate the small amount of ‘personal’ that this is. If you could measure such a thing it looks like a very small amount

ALLEN CHANEY: One thing I’m encouraged by is a thought I was expecting to have and I didn’t. As I sat backstage after Victory 11 staring at this title belt not ONCE did I have the thought ‘Okay….now what?’. I wanted this Punchline for so long and I got it but the Punchline only means the end of a joke, not the end of a set. I felt a sense of accomplishment winning this but no sense of finality like my work was done. The work is just beginning, folks! And hey…speaking of which?

Allen stops mid-sentence to point at the screen behind him, revealing an image of a twitter exchange.



ALLEN CHANEY: When you’re done crib-shopping we need to have us a little fuckin chat, bud. No fists yet. Just words. So to the future daddy as well as ‘Mr. Adult Shit’... welcome to the beginning of my next joke. You might not find it very funny…

Allen adjusts his championship on his shoulder a bit before turning to the camera and offering a bit of a smirk.

ALLEN CHANEY: …Because no one really likes it when the joke is on them. Set-up.

PUNCHLINE.

“You want to do good things, and once you've done a couple of good things in a row, you think 'Well gee, let's not mess this up.' But I am lucky at this point that I have something I really love to do, and it completely holds my attention. I never feel frustrated by it.”

-Jerry Seinfeld

“Using a Jerry Seinfeld quote feels weird because as I said that dude dated a 17 year-old when he was like almost 40 or some shit but it’s a pretty good quote that works for what I was going for. Fuck, so many of my heroes when I was younger turned out to be real pieces of shit. At least Dane Cook turned out shitty but was never really all that good.”

-Allen Chaney

He woke up and he made his bed this morning.

He couldn’t remember if he had ever done this before today. Right in the morning. Hell, half the time the bedsheets are barely on this fucking thing.

But Johnny says that structure is important so on this morning Bill watched in confusion as the man whose stomach was usually HIS bed moved all of the sheets and pillows around until they had reached some semblance of an orderly appearance.

Then Bill’s back does that spasm thing and he makes that terrible noise right before horking a hairball onto the freshly made bed because structure means absolutely dick in regards to the whims of a cat.

So Allen sighs and carefully peels his sheets off of the mattress and tosses them into the laundry basket along with the mustard stain shirt and an array of other t-shirts and pairs of basketball shorts that make up about 90% of his daily attire. He walks out the door then remembers he’ll need quarters for the laundromat as well as detergent so he steps over the drunken pathetic version of himself laying outside his door and grabs what he needs before heading to the laundromat.

Allen weirdly really liked the laundromat. He had previously taken to calling it his ‘place of meditation’. It smelled nice and people were relatively quiet. He appreciated this place a lot more before when there wasn’t a spotlight in a corner of the room by the big dryers shining on Allen Chaney drunk and sweaty on the floor delivering the worst comedy set of his life as the audience that didn’t care if he lived or died heckled and sent up more drinks. The Allen that is just doing his laundry looks away from that Allen and notices a kid looking at him before turning to whisper to presumably their parent. Whispering about Allen. So Allen attempts to turn his attention to twitter but weirdly enough it seems like everybody is posting the same thing.

All the thirst traps and memes posted on twitter all seemed to be replaced with the same images and videos of Allen at his lowest making a drunken embarrassment of himself on stage at a comedy club he had now been banned from. Allen looks up to notice another strange new architectural addition to the laundromat in that all of the walls were getting closer and closer to him, trapping him in one spot of the room right over a trap door. He feels the mechanism release and he begins to fall and-

“Hello?”

No falling. Walls back to normal. The spotlight is no longer shining and drunk Allen has been replaced by an RC Cola machine.

Who the fuck drinks RC Cola?

“Hm? Hey. Hi. What’s up?” Allen says.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bother you but…my son was wondering if he could get a picture with you?” Someone says. Hey, it’s the guy from earlier who the kid was whispering to. Allen looks down and sees the kid there as well. Allen thought maybe the kid looked scared but he quickly realized the kid was nervous. Probably about 9? 12? Allen didn’t know shit about kids.

“Uh, sure. Totally.” Allen says. The nervous kid walks over to Allen as his dad takes out his phone.

“What’s your name, my dude?” Allen asks.

“Bryan.” The child responds.

“So uh… your dad let’s you watch PWE?” Allen says quietly.

“I have the Hulu login.” Bryan says.

“Smart.” Allen says.

“Ollie and Bill are my favorites but you’re close.” Bryan says, getting a little less nervous now that Allen has broken the ice.

“I’d be offended if Ollie and Bill weren’t also awesome. Alright kid, smile and say ‘Punchline’.” Allen says when he notices the dad is ready.

“Punchline!” Bryan says. Allen smiles as the picture is taken. Bryan says goodbye and Allen shakes the dad’s hand.

Allen’s dryer beeps behind him and he realizes something.

“Hey, wait. Real quick.” Allen says. He opens the dryer and takes out his Ollie Dorito t-shirt, now clean and free of mustard stains and any other filth. Allen extends the shirt out to Bryan.

“Don’t go saying any of the bad words I say on tv, that’s a one way ticket to your dad changing the Hulu password.” Allen says. Bryan takes the shirt from Allen and smiles. The dad thanks him. Everyone walks away from that interaction much happier.

About a half hour later Allen walks up the stairs to his apartment and just stairs at the door, remembering what was in the doorway last time.

“I fucking hate you. You aren’t me. I’m never going to let things get that bad ever again you piece of shit.” Allen says before he opens the door and looks down.

Bill looks up at him and meows as if to say ‘Who the fuck are you talking to, dad?’ as well as ‘I’m hungry’ but to be fair that second one is what ALL of Bill’s meows mean on some level. Bill was sitting where the drunken pathetic Allen had been laying earlier in the doorway.

“Huh.” Allen says.

“Meow”. Bill says.

“I know I know… food.”

Allen brings in his clean laundry.

And then that door

closes.