New York Times, Leaving the Demons Behind: the Bifford Story

[Plethora the Perilous]

The screen does the familiar flash from darkness to a moment of static to the image of The Big Bifford (without his Plethora robe), Earl the Popcorn Salesman, and Kenny the Intern standing around in the jungle of the island. They’re standing in a circle, like they’re having a team meeting.



Kenny: How are you not concerned about Cocco Ricci’s son having all of this dirt on us? We were very open and honest in those interviews.



Bifford: Nobody told you to be open and honest.



Kenny: Cocco Ricci’s son did.



Bifford: Do you work for Cocco Ricci’s son?



Kenny: No.



Earl: What are we gonna do about Cocco Ricci’s son?



Bifford: Don’t worry about it - it’s being taken care of..



Earl: Yeah man - but what if he’s already told someone else?



Bifford: Nobody would believe him. It’s all too far fetched sounding.



Kenny: Hold on.. we are all on the island - Bifford, me, Earl, Boris.. who is attending to Cocco Ricci’s son?



Bifford: I called in a favor.



TWO DAYS EARLIER - NEW YORK CITY



In a bustling kitchen, a group of sous chefs and kitchen workers are seen crowding around Martha Stewart as she swirls pasta and plates it. Using a cloth, she wipes around the plate to make sure that the sauce is only visible in the area where pasta is. She prepares the garnish of pesto and begins slowly placing the garnish on top as everyone watches with excitement.



Martha: And THAT is how you do it..



Everyone claps and in that moment, everyone is distracted. Reaching into her chef white’s pocket, Martha Stewart grabs a pinch of something and and tosses it on top of the pasta. A server immediately appears behind Martha Stewart and takes the pasta off camera - where it is delivered to Riccardo Ricci.. pasta, pesto, poison.



PRESENT DAY - NEW YORK CITY



A conference room table seems empty when its set up for 16 people but only three are at it. One, still in a blue suit, is Jarvis Carlisle - the man Riccardo Ricci entrusted with a manilla envelope full of incriminating information on The Big Bifford. Also seated at the table, in a black suit, is Rob Loyola the chief editor of the New York Times. In a gray suit, seated with the other two men, is Vincent Sotomayor, a fact checker for the Times. The three men are discussing something in hushed tones that cannot be heard by the home viewer, however, as the camera pans in closer we are able to listen in.



Javier: This is absolutely bigger than Watergate..



Vincent: This isn’t going to take down the President of the United States.. this is a professional wrestler..



Javier: Who has killed thousands and thousands of people and TURNED THEM INTO SANDWICHES.



Rob: How the hell could this have happened? Why isn’t this guy in jail if they really are this open about their crimes.



Javier: He went to jail.. for killing multiple people.. in cold blood.. his sentence was only 6 months. This guy knows someone who knows someone who knows someone - you can’t just get away with murder in this country.



Vincent: Well he is a white guy in America..



Javier: What the hell does his race have to do with anything?



Vincent: Just sayin’, we don’t lock them whites away too often.



Javier: Everything is about race with you, Sotomayor.



Rob: Alright stop it.. what do we do with this? How do we even reasonably report this without causing society to collapse around us?



Javier: So here’s the thing.. he’s supposed to wrestle for the OCW World Championship this weekend.. if he wins and then we immediately reveal this, it will be an even bigger news story.. and the whole company will have to shutter. There’s no way they stay open with a serial killer who turned half the country into cannibals as their World Champion..



Rob (hesitating): Yeah but.. I kinda like their shows.



Vincent: You watch wrestling?



Javier: You watch fake fighting?



Rob (shrugging): It’s entertaining stuff..



1994 - THE MIDWEST



The scene opens with 15 year old Theodore Bryan Benson sitting in an English classroom. The students are taking turns badly reading Shakespeare and Theodore, who would go on to become The Big Bifford, looks slightly irked at his classmates’ lack of finesse in reading Shakespeare. Raising his hand, the teacher called upon him, “yes Theodore?” “May I used the bathroom, ma’am?” The teacher would nod her head and Bifford would stand and head out into the hallway.



Rounding a corner and finding himself in the restroom, Bifford walked up to the sink and turned on the cold tap. He reached down and grabbed two handfuls of water and brought them up to splash on his face. Looking into the mirror he saw Buffy the Vampire Slayer standing behind him. Their eyes met through the mirror.



Buffy: I know you’re thinking about asking Kate to the dance. We already talked about this. I told you no.



Theodore: You’re not real.



Buffy: I am real. I am a part of you, Bifford. We must coexist.. and so, you leave Kate alone and you don’t ask her to go to the dance.



Theodore: I want to go to the dance with her.



Buffy (sounding irritated): It doesn’t matter what you want, Bifford. We are a team and teams work together.. no dances.



Theodore: You don’t exist.



Buffy (getting angry): I DO.



Theodore: I can make you disappear if I wanted to.



Laughter fills the room as Buffy breaks into hysterical laughter.



Buffy: You’re not strong enough, Bifford. You need me. You’ll be alone without me.



Theodore: I have Kate now.



Buffy: Kate is stupid and has a stupid voice. You need me. Stop fighting it, Bifford..



Theodore: I can make you disappear.



Buffy (laughing again): Let’s see you try!



Clutching his eyes closed, Theodore whispers, “you’re not real” twice in a row. He raises his voice slightly and tries again, “you are NOT real..,” repeating it twice again. Raising his voice a third time, Theodore half-yells, “not real.. NOT real.. NOT REAL.” With that he opened his eyes and looked into the mirror. Buffy was gone. He was alone.



PRESENT DAY - NEW YORK CITY



The scene fades to darkness and then reopens at the same conference room table with Vincent, Javier, and Rob. They all have laptops and multiple cell phones on the table in front of them and seem to be working hard.



Rob (lifting his cell and reading it): Got a text from the boss.. he wants another source.



Javier: Another source? We’ve got interviews with Kenny the Intern, Earl the Popcorn Salesman, and Boris the Cannibal.. what more do we need?



Rob: Another source..



Javier: We have three.. one signs his name BORIS THE CANNIBAL. How is that not enough to put this out there?



Rob: Man this could cause serious societal damage.. we can’t do this lightly. We need another source and my boss is demanding that we do it before a word is printed.



Vincent: What we need is a sandwich..



Javier: No good, they changed the recipe when Bifford sold the chicken sandwich company. All their chicken is actually chicken now.



Vincent: No we need an old sandwich.. some people bought them and froze them before they changed the recipe. They’re going on EBay right now for a ton of money.. we just need to buy one.



Javier rolls his chair over to look over Vincent’s shoulder. “Who on earth would pay $600 for a frozen fast food chicken sandwich?” Javier asked. “That ain’t chicken,” Vincent replied. Rob rolls his chair over and joins the other men in looking at the laptop. “What if they’re fakes? How do we know which sandwich was really from a Bifford restaurant and which are people trying to fool others into paying them too much for a sandwich?” Rob asked. Both other men nod, realizing what he is saying and the problematic nature of what he has raised.



Javier: We will just have to buy all of them..



Vincent: Send them to a lab..



Rob: Then with those results we should have enough..



Vincent: If even one of those sandwiches contains human flesh..



Javier: Then Riccardo Ricci was right.



The scene fades to darkness.



1994 - THE MIDWEST



The scene comes back to Bifford’s bedroom. The 15 year old Theodore Bryan Benson is seated at a desk that faces a window. His bed behind him is properly made, the pillows fluffed. The whole room is very neat and organized. The camera zooms in over young Bifford’s shoulder as he writes in what appears to be a journal.



I asked Kate to the dance and she said yes. It was the happiest I have ever felt and yet I also felt sadness. As much as I like Kate and enjoy her company, I only see her every few days for a few hours.. the rest of the hours of the day, the rest of the days of the week - loneliness. Here at night in my room? Isolation. Why couldn’t I have both? Why couldn’t I take Kate to the dance and spend time with Buffy when nobody else was around. Why couldn’t she just accept that? Why do I always need to follow her orders?



I am happy about the dance. I am looking forward to it..



But tonight.. tonight I am alone.



Alone and sad.



Theodore closed his journal and looked around the room, as though hopeful that Buffy might appear. She did not, though. He was alone.



PRESENT DAY - THE ISLAND



Standing up to his waist in water, but otherwise naked, is The Big Bifford. He’s standing in a small stream surrounded by thick trees and vegetation. He’s looking right at the camera, his dead, soulless, gray eyes locking with yours.



Bifford: It’s been 20 years since I last held the OCW Championship. There are only two titles that mean anything in the world of wrestling: the OCW title, and the GCWA title. I held the OCW Championship first - my first love. Then I held the GCWA Championship twice.. it was a title that meant a lot to me, but it was never my first love.



Bifford holds up both of his hands. With his left hand he holds up one finger. Then with his right hand he holds up one finger, and then two.



Bifford: Three World title reigns with worthy championships.. ones held by great men and women.. ones fought for valiantly by people of integrity. But this..



Bifford looks down at his left hand with the lone finger extended.



Bifford: This needs to change..



Bifford holds out a second finger on the left hand and looks at both hands with two fingers extended.



Bifford: Outcast, you’ve come a long way.. You’re a heck of a competitor and it’s an honor to share the ring with you. You might be all dark and brooding and what not, but I’m not. I have nothing against you. I just want that championship. So I’m going to give you the Biff End and pin you in front of this island and all who inhabit it.. and everyone watching. Outcast, your reign is ending.



Bifford looks at his four fingers that are extended to represent his three former world title wins and his upcoming one.



Bifford: Then with that title on my shoulder again, I will murder Smith, and then I will make my final will known.



Bifford steps out of the water and walks toward the camera. He’s clearly naked, but his giant stomach lunges over his front half, blocking anything that would need to be blurred.



Bifford: Outcast, I am sorry that your reign is going to get cut so short.. you’re really good.. but I am the biggest and strongest guy here now..



Bifford walks over to where the Plethora robe is laid over a rock. It looks menacing, even without a body. A giant blob of black fabric shouldn’t be scary.. but it is. Bifford lifts it up and it comes down over his body, covering him almost magically. He turns to face the camera and all that can be seen in the dark shadows of the hood are his cold gray eyes.



Plethora: Outcast..

I wish you luck.

About you? Don’t give a fuck.

Keep your title? You can try.

Legends like me never die.



Lifting his scythe off of the ground, Plethora heads into the jungle as the scene fades to darkness.