The 17, 532 Hour Drive (Cynthia Rose Promo For Destino)

(The camera opens inside of the cab of Percy's '57 Chevy idling outside of Eden as he sits behind the wheel, staring ahead with an expression of uncertainty. He looks at his phone, and then at the gates of Eden, and lets out an impatient grunt.)

Percy: This kid's going to be the death of me. It's late. I could be out drinking, chatting up a chick at the bar, or maybe just going to bed early for once. Nope, little miss gen z can't drive herself to her own damn-

(The sudden sound of gates opening catch Percy's attention. He cuts a skeptical eye in Cynthia's direction as his pupil comes jogging toward the car sporting a hoodie and shades. He reaches over and opens the heavy passenger's side door as she approaches, giving her a snarky smile as she slides in.)

Percy: Well hello Ms. Cora!

Cynthia Rose: Save it old man, this is my special night and you can't ruin it for me.

Percy: Oh I wouldn't dream of ruining someone's night. Noooo, no ma'am. Not ol' Percy! Not when they could be out on the town and livin' it up with loose women and a running tab that no one's cashed out on yet.

Cynthia Rose: Oh save me the crocodile tears. You know you're happy for me. Besides, if you weren't coming tonight you'd just be sitting at the bowling alley wishing you had.

Percy: Yeah yeah...

(Percy pulls off the curb and drives into the night, watching the lights of Wrestleworld Capital grow fewer and fewer in his rearview, until they're finally gone. Realizing he hadn't talked in minutes, he gives a glance over at Cynthia in the passenger's seat. He smirks at the tiny form hiding under the hood and behind a giant pair of black shades as her little fingers fiddle with a coin.)

Cynthia Rose:...what?

Percy: Nothin', nothin'...I was just thinking that we've known each other for two years almost to the day.

Cynthia Rose: Feels like longer...

Percy: Yep. Two long, hard, annoying years.

Cynthia Rose: Hey! that's not what I meant.

Percy: Yeah?

Cynthia Rose: Yeah...I mean, you have been annoying, but that's been part of the ride, right? In two years time we've gone from relative obscurity and living in squalor, to living the high life and being island celebrities. We've nursed each other's wounds, cried on each other's shoulders, pushed each other to our limits, and celebrated each other's victories. We've kept one another humble, grounded, and gave each other perspective. We've shared war stories and lived our fair share out together.

Percy: Like I said, nearly seven hundred and thirty days of putting up with your narrow little annoying ass.

(Cynthia slips the coin in her pocket and abruptly turns and punches Percy in the arm. Percy nearly swerves, but manages to straighten out before giving into the temptation of rubbing his freshly bruised biceps.)

Percy: JESUS!

Cynthia Rose: S'what you get for poo-pooing my sentimentality

Percy: Fucking women...think vehicular manslaughter is a revenge equal to hurting their feelings.

Cynthia Rose: You know this is important to me!

Percy: Yeah? Well you said I kept you grounded, now lose the shades and hood. It's 9:30 at night and you're out here wearing sunglasses. Look at'cha Audrey Hepburn lookin' ass.

Cynthia Rose: Language!...and who's Audrey Hepburn?

Percy: Seriously? I thought all plain lookin' white girls worshiped that lady.

Cynthia Rose: Well sorry for not getting one of your boomer references!

Percy: 'ey! Don't make me turn this car around.

Cynthia Rose: Percy! This is supposed to be a big night for me.

Percy: It is! but I don't know why you're going to a party in your honor sporting shades and acting like you don't want to be recognized. They're gonna to call you up, and everyone's gonna know it's you, and ain't nobody gonna care.

Cynthia Rose: Aw gee, thanks for the pep talk coach...

Percy: You know what I mean. They'll be happy for you, but this whole attempt at going incognito is silly.

Cynthia Rose: I know...I just wanted a regular night for once is all.

Percy: What's buggin' you? I mean really? Besides my regular pestering n' shit.

Cynthia Rose: Today George and I-

Percy: George and I?!

Cynthia Rose: Yes George and I! Cool your jets, we're not even really a thing yet. We haven't even had an official "date" date yet.

Percy: Oh for the love of-these 'conditions' and 'terms'. Ya dating!

Cynthia Rose: No, n-not really. We were just walking on the beach and talking, y'know? Getting to know each other.better before we decide if we even want to pursue a relationship.

Percy: I told you not to go around those waters. You know they're polluted.

Cynthia Rose: It was on the clean shore, promise. No giant man-sized crabs or anything.

Percy: It's an island! All the water's the same! Did you at least check your fingers and toes for webbing? How 'bout look for a second head sprouting up?

Cynthia Rose: Percy...

(Percy fights back a smile as he feels Cynthia's deadly gaze bore into the side of his face from the passenger's seat.)

Percy:...Soooo how'd that go?

Cynthia Rose: Well I let him talk long enough to learn his last name this time at least.

Percy: Figures.

Cynthia Rose:...and he asked me a question that kind of bugged me a little.

Percy: Was it 'Will you marry me?'.

Cynthia Rose: NO! Ew! Ohmigosh, he asked me where I saw myself in ten years.

Percy: Oh? Was this after telling him about-

Cynthia Rose: No. He doesn't know about tonight. Jeez, I dumped my purse out on him the first time we met but he's not close enough to me for...well, this. Maybe that's what kinda bugged me about him asking. It's like he knew today was important.

Percy:...well?

Cynthia Rose: Well what?

Percy: What'd you tell him?

Cynthia Rose: I told him...uhhh...I told him that I didn't see me when I looked ten years into the future. Not like...in a morbid way, but in like...when he asked, I didn't see my face.

Percy: Whose face did you see?

Cynthia Rose: Well, it was more like five different faces that could come to be.

Percy: Any of them anybody that I'd know?

Cynthia Rose: Most of them are in the Camp de Batalla match at Destino.

Percy: Interesting, interesting. So tell me about each one.

Cynthia Rose: Ugh, really?

Percy: As your coach I'd love to see your perspective on your opponents and partners heading into this match. It gives me an idea as to what issues need targeting.in your game.

Cynthia Rose: Is this some sorta Mr. Miyagi mind trick to get me to get personal without you feeling like things are getting too intimate?

Percy: Hey, something's clearly on your mind and I'm just allowing you the opportunity to vent it to non-judgmental ears. You can shut up for the rest of this ride for all I care...pft, call me a boomer and then reference Karate Kid?

Cynthia Rose: What's Karate Kid? Is that the old source material for Cobra Kai that came out in the fifties?

Percy: Now I know you're fuckin' with me, but it ain't funny.

Cynthia Rose: I dunno Mr. Jackson. I wasn't even awive when dat happun.

Percy: It's not too late for me to turn this car around, so cut the baby talk bullshit.

Cynthia Rose: Wangwage. My widdle eaws can't handwe the naughty wowds.

Percy: You're deflecting. It's fine, because you're just admitting you aren't mature enough to address these insecurities.

Cynthia Rose: Fine!...spoil sport. I see April Song. I see her bitterness and insecurities toward World's Finest for never treating her like a leader despite being one of the two founding members. I see her transitioning from wine mom to whiny mom for that tiny tyrant Hana while thrusting all of her hopes and aspirations onto her like a pageant mom. I see the disgust for me in her eyes. I see the scars left by former allies who fell or outgrew her. I see a hatred for aspiring young careers, and a willingness to become the cold corporate professional and aging matriarchy that she once swore to destroy in the name of Wrestleworld. I see the blinders on her, the ones who wont let her see all that she's accomplished or all of the men and women who grew up watching her become an icon and hero of this industry. I see those same young faces, faces like mine, turning away from her now that she's become a hypocrite. I trace her path backwards, see how it could be my own, and wonder if she's really to blame...but that's the kind of lack of responsibility for one's actions that leads you down that road.

Percy: And you think that could be you?

Cynthia Rose: Everyone backslides and I'm not immune to self pity. There's even a big part of me that pushes people away that try to get close. People who'll hurt me...people I'll hurt. That inferiority complex that wouldn't allow her to stay in a group called World's Finest without being THE world's finest? I get that. I think every man, woman, and child in this sport gets that.

Percy: Yeah but you're also self-conscious in a way that I don't think April is capable of anymore. She's become someone else's hired gun, a right hand of vengeance, a finger on the trigger for a cause that isn't even her own anymore. She's Hana's weapon, Ghost Organization's disposable hero, just another pretty face in a tight black suit ready to jump in front a bullet with someone else's name on it just to prove that she was right. She's barely even sentient anymore. You? You feel everything. Every setback, every victory, every ounce of gold and leather that lends weight to any title. You respect yourself. You respect this sport, even though it doesn't respect you back. You're not going to be April Song. I've lived through the nightmare of standing idly by the side of a man who couldn't even bare to look at his face in the mirror and I'll always be waiting in the wings to make sure it doesn't happen to you. Not on Percy's watch...not again.

Cynthia Rose: Yeah, but could you stop me from being like Hana? I think you'd be too close to the problem to see it. Even now I'm doing exactly what she's doing, just on the other side of the law.

Percy: Bullshit.

Cynthia Rose: Think about it: I'm driven by my own warped moral code that other's view as more destructive than healthy, I'm addicted to being the best in-ring performer I can be, I have the massive shadow of an industry legend casting over my career that's fighting alongside me to help me make my own name and be better than they were at their best. We're prodigies that the entire sport has labeled as being the future of Wrestleworld and we've been marked as such since the first time we wiped our boots on the apron. You don't think my ego is capable of consuming me and blinding me of what justice really is? If we boil things down to brass tacks, she's working for a group that has their own axes to grind against the Architects.

Percy: Even if their vengeance and torturous acts were just, I still don't think you're capable of sinking to that level. You're barely in this for yourself as it is. There's not a day that goes by where you don't take a break from training to call home to Hickory and ask your mama, daddy, aunt, or uncle about how things are back home. You stand for something bigger than yourself, even if that something is just some small town in the boonies of North Carolina. Now I know the south can be fucked up, but I doubt Hickory would want it's biggest export and only ambassador attacking people after losing a match because in their bratty little entitled gen z mind they've justified that they deserved it more. So no, I don't think you're going to somehow regress to being a snooty little eighteen year old who thinks she's too cute to lose in ten years time. You're more mature than that now.

Cynthia Rose: Pride in where you come from can still be a recipe for disaster. Look at Sgt. Jack Ranger for example. The guy's a war hero and a family man. I don't think he'd be a Warden if he didn't believe it somehow glorified god and country or ensured his children had a Rockwellian picture of Americana to live in.

Percy: Men who seek utopia often create dystopian nightmares. The man may be a veteran, but he's fallen in with a pack of super villains. I know your aunt and uncle are kooks, but I think you'd have enough sense to rebel against them if you thought they were running Guantanamo out of your childhood bedroom. Likewise, I think you're capable of scrutinizing Hickory and seeing it's flaws.

Cynthia Rose: It ain't easy being blue in a red state...

Percy: Do you think when the smell of napalm in the morning fades by noon that Sgt. Ranger will be happy with the world he's created for Jack Jr.? He might be a good man with his heart in the right place, but he's also misguided. You've got World's Finest, me, your crazy ass family, and a whole town vocally holding you accountable for how you represent them.

Cynthia Rose: He has all of America to answer to.

Percy: So do most politicians, and they're all half crazy and confused as hell. Sometimes the picture gets too big and the message gets lost in the business. I also somehow doubt his family life is the type where the wife or kids get a word in edgewise. They're there to be trophies like the pens on his lapel. It's all part of the idyllic black and white poster boy image of being that kinda guy. You've at least got people on the outside trying to pull you between worlds and keep a level head. You don't need a buzz cut to achieve that.

Cynthia Rose: Emmy has that outsider perspective too.

Percy: Ya ain't like Emmanuelle either, much to my chagrin.

Cynthia Rose: I may not kick or hit or whatever, but of anyone in this match I think I understand her the most..or at least...'get' her. I think she gets me, too. She hates what she's getting, but she gets it better than most.

Percy: What she's got is self-confidence and a tenacious lust for winning.

(Cynthia lowers her head and averts her gaze from Percy.)

Cynthia Rose: She may even get me more than you do. In our own 'out there' ways we both strive for perfection, efficiency, and self-gratification above all else. There's no bend in our rigid and stringent codes of ethics: we're either trying our hardest to live up to our own self-made standards or we're failing. We're both driven by an anxiety to be the best versions of ourselves, the versions we see in our hearts and minds and selfishly want to be. Outside influences need not apply.

Percy: Girl I taught you everything you know.

Cynthia Rose: You taught me fundamentals and help me keep them sharpened, but most of my style either comes from my amateur days or training behind your back.

Percy: Okay, fine, I didn't teach you how to throw people, but everything else was me!

Cynthia Rose: Please! If I listened to you I'd be throwing heymakers and dropping people on their heads. You didn't teach me the lionsault.

Percy: And I still think it's dumb you do it.

Cynthia Rose: See? And I don't care about that opinion. I do me, just like Emmy.

Percy: Then why are you so afraid to become her?

Cynthia Rose: It's not that I'm afraid, it's just that...well...we're both empaths. We sense people's true natures, suss them out immediately. I think that's the biggest reason she shows any level of respect toward me if I'm honest with myself. She gets that I'm not a threat to what she's after. However, Christopher Sabertooth is a direct threat to what she wants. Unarguably, the same could be said about the rest of World's Finest. I think that's why she's afraid to embrace either side of this conflict. It's not in her best interest to align with her competition or even regard them as such.

Percy: That, and she's afraid to get close to people.

Cynthia Rose: Right? I mean I get it. I've let the stars in my eyes blind me in the past to other's true intentions. I've given them the benefit of the doubt and it's bitten me in the tush multiple times, even when I saw what was coming.

Percy: Do you think giving people the benefit of the doubt is a weakness?

Cynthia Rose: No..well...maybe, but I'd rather eat crow and get the worst of people than risk missing out on the experience of getting the best of them. I'm not naive either. I went into our triple threat for the Shogun championship fully aware of the potential of Chris Sabertooth playing mind games and tugging on my heart strings, or even pulling rank or seniority. I didn't let that be a factor though. I questioned his motives, but ultimately knew his intentions were pure.

Percy: Emmy doesn't have that luxury.

Cynthia Rose: She won't afford herself that luxury, and I get it. I get it so much that I fear becoming as jaded and fearful of the outside world as she is under that callous exterior. I get fearing investing all of your passion, time, health, and energy into this only for it to bare no fruit. I understand the anxiousness of seeing every potential reason someone could have for stabbing you in the back just to glorify their name. I feel the eyes of the public on me, scrutinizing my every move and judging me for picking a side in this battle. They'll call me a cog, a sheep, a naive pawn on the front lines. But no matter what you do, what you say, or who you align with, I understand the other shoe will eventually drop and the backlash of jealousy or comeuppance will rear it's ugly head. Why not detach yourself from that rat race of emotions and judgment as much as you can? Why bother doom scrolling to find the negative opinions you know are there? Why make friends with anyone when you know deep down that they're capable of slitting your throat at any time just to get ahead?

Percy:...well?

Cynthia Rose: Because that's living, Percy. That's life. People get hurt, hearts get broken, and there are stakes and consequences to everything. You can separate business from personal and have the same drama in your life outside of the ring; but when there is no downtime and there are no peers outside of the workplace, you're going to encounter that drama whether you like it or not. I'm not saying that she should join us, that it's the right call, or that she'll even enjoy it. World's Finest might not be her bag. All I'm saying is that if she waits on the sidelines too long to see which side wins, eventually someone's going to choose her future for her, someone's going to bring that drama to her, and if that someone doesn't like Emmy's neutrality, then that whole world's going to turn on her and abandon her overnight. I don't want that to happen. I don't think she deserves that.

Percy: D'aww. Tell me, what does she deserve little girl? For you to be her bestie?

Cynthia Rose: She deserves to be acknowledged for what she is. She deserves respect on her name and the adoration of her fans and peers. She deserves the jealousy radiating from competitors like me who wish they had even an iota of her self-esteem or self-reliance. She deserves to stand alongside those who call themselves World's Finest. We shouldn't be some puritanical City on a Hill metaphor to her. She's on our level, we are her peers, and I wish her all of the adulation and heartache that such a distinction brings. She doesn't have to be my friend-

Percy: -But you want her to be.-

Cynthia Rose: -Shut up...and she doesn't have to be part of some militia of Wrestleworld minutemen who set themselves apart from the pack with their willingness to die for a speck of land in the middle of a giant ocean for the sake of convoluted morals that we hold ourselves to. She does need to live life to it's fullest though, and that means sometimes putting your neck on the line for the betterment of yourself, others, or something bigger than both.

Percy: Those are fairly sage words of wisdom coming from a pipsqueak like you.

Cynthia Rose: Nothing makes you wiser than being proven wrong over and over again. I've cut my losses and I'll admit that I'm just as disenfranchised at times, but I don't make myself an island.

Percy: No, but other's do trying to get away from your waxing philosophical ass.

Cynthia Rose: Language.

Percy: Shut up and tell me the fifth face you see already. We're almost there.

Cynthia Rose: Okay, so I know this sounds nuts...but Claudia.

Percy:Claudia?!

Cynthia Rose: Hear me out, we have a lot in common already: We're women who have been marginalized and resented by the men of our sport that we've bested or rose above, we're constantly accused of not doing stuff on our own or leaning on family ties to get us through our rough patches. People have used me to get to others, tortured me to send a message, and I've amassed quite the laundry list of resentful foes who think I've somehow wronged them during my short tenure in wrestling.

Percy: So you a bitch. Got it.

Cynthia Rose: I'm not saying that! I'm just saying that her and I have been cast in the same mold more than a few times, and we've both found ourselves in the same position fighting a war for Wrestleworld that we've ultimately been thrust into by circumstance and reluctant allies.

Percy: Ya talkin' shit! World's Finest picked you and uh...Claudia's led her own insurrections in the past as well. This is really the first time her hand's been forced in such matters.

Cynthia Rose: Still, I could see myself in her shoes when this is all over with; some warped, tortured, desperate P.O.W. being manipulated by both sides through no fault of her own. Don't get me wrong, Claudia had it coming, but this war had little to nothing to do with her. Now she's been thrust into a position of power with a chip on each shoulder, enemies on both sides, and her finger hovering over the button that could end it all with one keystroke.

Percy: Please, kid, don't make me nostalgic for the days of Underworld.

Cynthia Rose: Again, Claudia has her fair share of skeletons in the closet to answer for, but I'd much rather go back to the good old days of her spying on us for no apparent reason. She was downright benign by the time I got here, and getting attention from a legend like her off the bat was kind of flattering.

Percy: You're nuts.

Cynthia Rose: Why? Because there's a little part of me that misses my sadistic mother hen?

Percy: No...well, yeah...but also because you think anyone could break your will and make you like Claudia gotdamn Michaels. I've been trying for going on two years and you're still an annoying little bastard.

Cynthia Rose: HEY! LANGUAGE!

Percy: Speaking of, we're here...

(The car pulls to a stop. Cynthia peers out the passenger's side window at the church parking lot. The windows of the church are dark, save a few coming from the narrow flood windows of the basement. Cynthia kicks her door open and starts to hop out.)

Cynthia Rose: You coming in?

Percy: I usually don't.

Cynthia Rose: Yeah but tonight is special. I get my second bronze coin.

Percy: I know, I know.

Cynthia Rose: Don't tell me you drove me all this way just to sit out in the car and listen to the radio?

Percy: I'll go in under three conditions.

(Cynthia settles back into the bucket seat, an impatient smirk on her face as she toys with the coin in her pocket.)

Percy: Condition one: You take off the shades and hoodie. You look like Ray Charles and it's like 90 degrees out here even with the sun down.

Cynthia Rose: But people will know it's me!

Percy: Condition two!: No Cora this time. You go in as Cynthia. They already know it's you anyway. We're living on an island whose economy is based on what you do publicly for a living.

Cynthia Rose: Everyone else is anonymous and I don't want to draw attention to myself.

Percy: Too bad! This is your night and you deserve to celebrate it in your name. Besides, you get more attention wearing sunglasses at night and a damn hoodie in August.

Cynthia Rose: Fine...

(Cynthia sighs and reluctantly tugs the hoodie off over her head, revealing a Wrestleworld t-shirt underneath. Percy stares at her, amused once more as she gives him a frustrated sneer.)

Cynthia Rose: What?!

Percy: I'm just thinking of how much of a better disguise this is. Now you look like a mark cosplaying as you.

Cynthia Rose: Hey, I wanted to wear the hoodie!...besides, the shirt was free.

Percy: Perfect! now you sound like a mark too.

Cynthia Rose: Just tell give me your third demand you terrorist.

Percy: Demand three!...they got them, like, fudge striped cookies in there?

(Cynthia glares at Percy in disbelief. Through a clenched jaw she hisses at him.)

Cynthia Rose:...I think so.

Percy: LET'S GOOOOOOO!

Cynthia Rose: Hold up...I want to give you something.

Percy: If it ain't cookies-

Cynthia Rose: P-Percy, just...shut up for a second, okay?

(Cynthia reaches into her pocket and pulls out a bronze coin. She feels it between her thumb and index finger for a moment, before flipping it to Percy. He catches it and stares at it in disbelief.)

Percy: I can't-

Cynthia Rose: Oh you're gonna, because you gave me that year of my life. You instilled discipline, structure, and tough love in me that I needed to dry out and become a serous competitor and functioning member of society. Now I'm giving it back to you because you earned it.

(Percy begins to speak, fighting back tears. Cynthia outstretches her arm and puts a finger on his lips.)

Cynthia Rose: It's OK. I want you to have it. Besides, I'm going in there and getting the one I earned by staying on the path you paved for me. I don't know what things are going to be like after Destino or Campo de Batalla. I don't know if World's Finest will still want me, or if Emmanuelle will join, or if George will still want to pursue something romantic after seeing me the next day covered in the inevitable scratches, bruises, and dried blood that a match like this is bound to bring. There's no question that you'll be there though. You'll walk with me to the ring, you'll probably stick around and shout encouragement from my corner, and you'll most likely even do something stupid that I don't want you to do to save me from my own bullheadedness. I know you don't want the confusing, damning, or mixed signals of me giving you a hug, a kiss on the cheek, or even the passive declaration of undying platonic affection. You don't get to say no to this though. You don't get to shut me out and call me a dumb little brat hick white girl on this one. If you do...I'll start crying, and then you'll be known as the big mean idiot who made the nice girl cry in the church parking lot, which is way worse than-

Percy: OKAY!...okay...thank you.

(The two smile at each other, both fighting back tears as they stare across the cab of the Chevy Bel-Air. Finally, Cynthia makes the first move and steps out, slamming the door behind her. She stops, leans through the open window, and gives Percy a mocking smirk.)

Cynthia Rose: Besides, I'm getting a bright shiny new one tonight. I think it suits me better. You can have the old crusty one.

(Cynthia sticks out her tongue. A faux enraged Percy pushes his car door open and chases the taunting and giggling Cynthia into the church as the camera begins to fade to black.)

"Hello, my name is Cynthia R. and I'm an alcoholic. I've been sober for twenty-four months."

Anonymous Crowd: "Hi Cynthia"