09-21-2024, 06:16 PM
Some might think it’s easy to just go “off the grid” these days, but Dexter would disagree. Most people he knew would consider “off the grid” as saying they were leaving social media and maybe the internet as a whole for a while or perhaps for good…except the truth was that they’d still use them, just lurking around hoping to see the reaction to such a ‘bold’ decision on their part. No, when Dexter Grant says he’s going “off the grid” he means it. He’d completely disappeared without a trace for years, leaving behind most of his worldly possessions. He’d trekked deep into the nearby woods until he was certain not a single soul would be able to intentionally track him down unless he wanted their presence, made absolutely sure it was completely impossible to so much as get any sort of signal or hint of communication there, and then built himself a little shack with his bare hands. It was his defense against any lingering temptation to return to the digital age that had sickened him so much, and after several years of spending most of his time out here, he felt he’d succeeded in detoxing himself of the cyber scourge that had once infected his brainwaves.
The downside was that it had become virtually impossible to contact him in regards to the wrestling he’d since taken up to try and spread his message, but that was one of the benefits of having Wendell around now.
In the past few years, Wendell had become an invaluable asset to Dexter’s cause. True, deep down he knew some of it was hypocritical, but as long as he could convince Wendell to streamline his internet use and only browse and not interact on social media for the purpose of research, then the world at large could remain blissfully ignorant…especially since Dexter himself wasn’t breaking his own stance against this technological terror. It also meant that Wendell couldn’t do any of that work in Dexter’s presence to tempt him with such evil because there was no connection to speak of out here, hence Wendell had a map and all the tools he needed to seek out the man who was working to save him and everybody else when necessary.
“I knew this place had such an eclectic cast of characters…but this is honestly looking like a bigger problem than I’d thought.”
Dexter was currently pacing around in one of the rooms he’d recently built onto his shack, which almost resembled a conspiracy theorist’s wet dream as various documents were nailed to the wall, each one detailing everything known so far about the various members of the SCW roster. Dexter had jumped into the wrestling business only about a year or so ago, solely to turn it into a bigger platform to spread his message and directly fight against the influence of the social media machine that was starting to infect it. He’d run into so many people even on what was considered the ‘independent scene’ who boasted sizable social media followings or played up the idea of being influencers in some respect that it made him sick and drove him to try and pick these cretins apart. He’d somehow gotten noticed by an SCW talent scout, learning from Wendell that they were apparently one of the biggest places out there, and having the information at his fingertips about what he was dealing with…he knew he had his work cut out for him.
It wasn’t a matter of knowing his competition would be stiff because that was irrelevant to him. He didn’t care about how skilled or more experienced any of these clowns were, because all of it paled in comparison to the need to have his voice be heard, no matter what. But the way many of these people carried themselves, the way the company was constantly promoting itself across all social media platforms, it all reeked of a place that was already ground zero for the digital infection he was trying to cure, and he knew he just had to march right into the lion’s den and detox each and every socially sick soul that would try to stop him, for their own good.
“Hey, Dexter? I’ve got some news to share.”
Dexter turned from whoever he’d been studying (they all felt the same to him honestly, regardless of what those so-called fans thought about them) to see Wendell trudge into the shack, covered in mud and looking like he never wanted to go on a hike in his life ever again, but Dexter would take no precautions when it came to how seriously he took the concept of “off the grid.”
“You weren’t followed, right?”
“Not by a single soul,” Wendell swore. “I think most people have started accepting that I just like to come out here to hike and unplug for a few hours…at least the unplug part isn’t a lie.”
“Unplugging is how you detox your brain from the addiction that those technological tyrants like to prey upon,” Dexter reminded him. “A good hike also does the body good too. Anyway, you said you had some news?”
Wendell shrugged off his backpack and fished around inside before producing a bunch of papers that he handed over to Dexter. Most of it was printouts of the latest statistics and analysis regarding social media use so Dexter had his facts straight, but what he focused on was a physical copy of his SCW contract, fully notarized and certified.
“So it’s official now, huh?” Dexter asked.
“Signed, sealed and delivered.” Wendell clapped his hands. “You’re officially a member of the SCW roster, no strings attached.”
“Then step one is accomplished,” Dexter mused. “And now that we’re in, it’s time to start preparing to spread our message. I have a feeling SCW isn’t going to be as nice as that place I was wrestling in before, and you’re going to have to prepare for anything in trying to help me out kid, but the detoxing process will begin. They’ve got this upcoming show that you said’s in Oklahoma to prepare themselves, but next week we’ll kick those doors wide open, turn some poor sod into my first message…”
“Actually…” Wendell cut him off, causing him to cower a bit when Dexter scowled at him.
“What did I say about interrupting me, Wendell?”
“I’m so sorry Dexter,” Wendell pleaded. “It’s just, well, you’re not wrestling on the September 12th Breakdown.”
Dexter raised an eyebrow at this, slowly approaching Wendell in such a menacing way that the poor guy quickly backed himself against the wall, hands raised in the hope of stopping anything from happening.
“And why not?”
“Well, you see,” Wendell stumbled over his words, “SCW announced this ‘Trios tournament’ thing on their Twitter earlier this week. Apparently all the teams are already drawn, were drawn before your contract was finalized, and that’s all they’re doing next week so…”
Dexter huffed. Of course he was already being excluded from something, and those brainwashed to spread the digital toxicity were probably banking on him not knowing and making a fool of himself on what would be his first night. Even ignoring that he left Wendell in charge of all his contact on this front because of his commitment to the mission, why else would they withhold this info from him?
“What’s the deal with this ‘Trios tournament’ anyway?”
“Well, from my research,” Wendell explained, “eight teams of three people each are randomly paired together for a tournament taking place mostly next Breakdown. All six person tags, winning team has each member get a contract that I think guarantees them any match, stipulations, etc.”
“So useless in the grand scheme of things,” Dexter spat. Wendell certainly didn’t see it that way, but he liked to think he’d gotten a solid idea of how Dexter’s mind worked by now. To any wrestler, the power of such a contract certainly sounded tempting, but to Dexter Grant, if such a reward couldn’t be used in any way to benefit his mission then it was a waste of time. He believed he could see the logic, considering Dexter would have to put up with people he likely wanted nothing to do with all for something he probably couldn’t use in a way that SCW would actually approve of.
“If it helps,” Wendell chimed in, “you are booked for the following Breakdown.”
“They can try to delay the inevitable all they want, it’s not going to stop me from seeing my mission through and detoxing SCW from roster to fans. Give me the details on the first social zombie they’re throwing at me to cut down.”
“Let’s see…” Wendell pulled out a notebook, flipping through a few pages before he found what he was looking for. “Here it is! His name’s Chase Upshaw. He’s only about a year older than me, hails from North Carolina and apparently hasn’t been with SCW for very long. According to what I’ve dug up, the guy’s a geography teacher who’s angry about how little his students actually know about geography.”
“Considering how much most people rely on Facebook or Twitter or Instagram or whatever to tell them whatever they need to know anymore, I’d be pretty pissed too if I were in his shoes.”
“Apparently his whole reason for becoming a wrestler in the first place is so he can legally beat geography knowledge into people,” Wendell laughed.
“Any social media presence to speak of?” Dexter asked.
“None as far as I can tell.”
“Clever bastards…” Dexter huffed again, storming back into the room covered wall to wall with profile documents of SCW’s roster until he found the one he was looking for of Chase Upshaw.
“What is it, Dexter?”
“Think about it for a sec Wendell,” Dexter glanced over at him. “If you’re going to play into our hands without realizing it, what would’ve been the smart move to do for my debut match aside from delaying it like they did, hoping it might deter me?”
“Um…wait, I know this…” Wendell snapped his fingers a few times. “Throw you against one of the big dogs right away?”
“Well, throw just about anybody on this zombified roster against me honestly. But they didn’t…they pitted me against somebody who probably isn’t enslaved by the digital delusions of grandeur, trying to paint me as a hypocrite right out of the gate. Think about how they can paint me on those cancerous platforms if I destroy this man when he might be one of the few people in this whole company who may not even need detoxing.”
“It’d be like how Disney preaches inclusion and tolerance while still shitting all over minorities and the LGBTQ any chance they get!” Wendell feels the light bulb go off in his head.
“Exactly,” Dexter nods in agreement. “And while they deserve to be called out for that garbage because it’s abhorrent, how many people who do so through social media are doing so because they’re actually offended or speaking out because it’s the right thing and not just doing so for social brownie points and following the crowd? Regardless, the point is that these higher-ups clearly know what they’re doing and are hoping to paint me in an awful light online the first chance they get.”
“So…we’re just going to leave Chase alone?”
“Nah, they’re trying to make this into a lose-lose situation for us,” Dexter mused. “But I’m going to give this guy a chance…see if he’s willing to hear me out and join our fight come Breakdown. Even prove that I’m not as intellectually stunted as anyone else he’s probably come across because my brain hasn’t melted from mindless doomscrolling or trying to indulge in useless TikTok ‘challenges” designed to get people hurt or killed for a good laugh. If he’s going to be ignorant enough to not hear us out, then he’s part of the flock after all and needs to be put down.”
“So this is the part where you’re gonna address him and…”
“Not quite,” Dexter says, reaching out and grabbing Wendell’s shoulder as he turns to go dig out the camera he’d brought with him. “We’re not going to address this one.”
“We’re not?” Poor Wendell looked confused.
“He’s not worth my breath, especially if he could be a potential believer in our cause. Our words are best saved for those who truly deserve them to burrow beneath their skin and cure the cancer that dwells beneath courtesy of those malicious digital media presences. I’ll give Chase the courtesy of thinking carefully about how he wants to approach this fight, and for his sake, hopefully he chooses to hear me out and side with us in our fight, for I’d like to hope we’re on the same side here.”
“As you wish Dexter.”
With that, Dexter and Wendell turned their conversation towards their future plan of attack after these next few Breakdowns. Wendell was skeptical, but he knew better than to doubt Dexter Grant at this point. Dexter had helped to save him and put him on the road to recovery, after all, and he had faith that the Digital Detoxer could do the same to others if they only listened to him.
He hoped that after these next few Breakdowns, they would do just that, even if he made them listen.
The downside was that it had become virtually impossible to contact him in regards to the wrestling he’d since taken up to try and spread his message, but that was one of the benefits of having Wendell around now.
In the past few years, Wendell had become an invaluable asset to Dexter’s cause. True, deep down he knew some of it was hypocritical, but as long as he could convince Wendell to streamline his internet use and only browse and not interact on social media for the purpose of research, then the world at large could remain blissfully ignorant…especially since Dexter himself wasn’t breaking his own stance against this technological terror. It also meant that Wendell couldn’t do any of that work in Dexter’s presence to tempt him with such evil because there was no connection to speak of out here, hence Wendell had a map and all the tools he needed to seek out the man who was working to save him and everybody else when necessary.
“I knew this place had such an eclectic cast of characters…but this is honestly looking like a bigger problem than I’d thought.”
Dexter was currently pacing around in one of the rooms he’d recently built onto his shack, which almost resembled a conspiracy theorist’s wet dream as various documents were nailed to the wall, each one detailing everything known so far about the various members of the SCW roster. Dexter had jumped into the wrestling business only about a year or so ago, solely to turn it into a bigger platform to spread his message and directly fight against the influence of the social media machine that was starting to infect it. He’d run into so many people even on what was considered the ‘independent scene’ who boasted sizable social media followings or played up the idea of being influencers in some respect that it made him sick and drove him to try and pick these cretins apart. He’d somehow gotten noticed by an SCW talent scout, learning from Wendell that they were apparently one of the biggest places out there, and having the information at his fingertips about what he was dealing with…he knew he had his work cut out for him.
It wasn’t a matter of knowing his competition would be stiff because that was irrelevant to him. He didn’t care about how skilled or more experienced any of these clowns were, because all of it paled in comparison to the need to have his voice be heard, no matter what. But the way many of these people carried themselves, the way the company was constantly promoting itself across all social media platforms, it all reeked of a place that was already ground zero for the digital infection he was trying to cure, and he knew he just had to march right into the lion’s den and detox each and every socially sick soul that would try to stop him, for their own good.
“Hey, Dexter? I’ve got some news to share.”
Dexter turned from whoever he’d been studying (they all felt the same to him honestly, regardless of what those so-called fans thought about them) to see Wendell trudge into the shack, covered in mud and looking like he never wanted to go on a hike in his life ever again, but Dexter would take no precautions when it came to how seriously he took the concept of “off the grid.”
“You weren’t followed, right?”
“Not by a single soul,” Wendell swore. “I think most people have started accepting that I just like to come out here to hike and unplug for a few hours…at least the unplug part isn’t a lie.”
“Unplugging is how you detox your brain from the addiction that those technological tyrants like to prey upon,” Dexter reminded him. “A good hike also does the body good too. Anyway, you said you had some news?”
Wendell shrugged off his backpack and fished around inside before producing a bunch of papers that he handed over to Dexter. Most of it was printouts of the latest statistics and analysis regarding social media use so Dexter had his facts straight, but what he focused on was a physical copy of his SCW contract, fully notarized and certified.
“So it’s official now, huh?” Dexter asked.
“Signed, sealed and delivered.” Wendell clapped his hands. “You’re officially a member of the SCW roster, no strings attached.”
“Then step one is accomplished,” Dexter mused. “And now that we’re in, it’s time to start preparing to spread our message. I have a feeling SCW isn’t going to be as nice as that place I was wrestling in before, and you’re going to have to prepare for anything in trying to help me out kid, but the detoxing process will begin. They’ve got this upcoming show that you said’s in Oklahoma to prepare themselves, but next week we’ll kick those doors wide open, turn some poor sod into my first message…”
“Actually…” Wendell cut him off, causing him to cower a bit when Dexter scowled at him.
“What did I say about interrupting me, Wendell?”
“I’m so sorry Dexter,” Wendell pleaded. “It’s just, well, you’re not wrestling on the September 12th Breakdown.”
Dexter raised an eyebrow at this, slowly approaching Wendell in such a menacing way that the poor guy quickly backed himself against the wall, hands raised in the hope of stopping anything from happening.
“And why not?”
“Well, you see,” Wendell stumbled over his words, “SCW announced this ‘Trios tournament’ thing on their Twitter earlier this week. Apparently all the teams are already drawn, were drawn before your contract was finalized, and that’s all they’re doing next week so…”
Dexter huffed. Of course he was already being excluded from something, and those brainwashed to spread the digital toxicity were probably banking on him not knowing and making a fool of himself on what would be his first night. Even ignoring that he left Wendell in charge of all his contact on this front because of his commitment to the mission, why else would they withhold this info from him?
“What’s the deal with this ‘Trios tournament’ anyway?”
“Well, from my research,” Wendell explained, “eight teams of three people each are randomly paired together for a tournament taking place mostly next Breakdown. All six person tags, winning team has each member get a contract that I think guarantees them any match, stipulations, etc.”
“So useless in the grand scheme of things,” Dexter spat. Wendell certainly didn’t see it that way, but he liked to think he’d gotten a solid idea of how Dexter’s mind worked by now. To any wrestler, the power of such a contract certainly sounded tempting, but to Dexter Grant, if such a reward couldn’t be used in any way to benefit his mission then it was a waste of time. He believed he could see the logic, considering Dexter would have to put up with people he likely wanted nothing to do with all for something he probably couldn’t use in a way that SCW would actually approve of.
“If it helps,” Wendell chimed in, “you are booked for the following Breakdown.”
“They can try to delay the inevitable all they want, it’s not going to stop me from seeing my mission through and detoxing SCW from roster to fans. Give me the details on the first social zombie they’re throwing at me to cut down.”
“Let’s see…” Wendell pulled out a notebook, flipping through a few pages before he found what he was looking for. “Here it is! His name’s Chase Upshaw. He’s only about a year older than me, hails from North Carolina and apparently hasn’t been with SCW for very long. According to what I’ve dug up, the guy’s a geography teacher who’s angry about how little his students actually know about geography.”
“Considering how much most people rely on Facebook or Twitter or Instagram or whatever to tell them whatever they need to know anymore, I’d be pretty pissed too if I were in his shoes.”
“Apparently his whole reason for becoming a wrestler in the first place is so he can legally beat geography knowledge into people,” Wendell laughed.
“Any social media presence to speak of?” Dexter asked.
“None as far as I can tell.”
“Clever bastards…” Dexter huffed again, storming back into the room covered wall to wall with profile documents of SCW’s roster until he found the one he was looking for of Chase Upshaw.
“What is it, Dexter?”
“Think about it for a sec Wendell,” Dexter glanced over at him. “If you’re going to play into our hands without realizing it, what would’ve been the smart move to do for my debut match aside from delaying it like they did, hoping it might deter me?”
“Um…wait, I know this…” Wendell snapped his fingers a few times. “Throw you against one of the big dogs right away?”
“Well, throw just about anybody on this zombified roster against me honestly. But they didn’t…they pitted me against somebody who probably isn’t enslaved by the digital delusions of grandeur, trying to paint me as a hypocrite right out of the gate. Think about how they can paint me on those cancerous platforms if I destroy this man when he might be one of the few people in this whole company who may not even need detoxing.”
“It’d be like how Disney preaches inclusion and tolerance while still shitting all over minorities and the LGBTQ any chance they get!” Wendell feels the light bulb go off in his head.
“Exactly,” Dexter nods in agreement. “And while they deserve to be called out for that garbage because it’s abhorrent, how many people who do so through social media are doing so because they’re actually offended or speaking out because it’s the right thing and not just doing so for social brownie points and following the crowd? Regardless, the point is that these higher-ups clearly know what they’re doing and are hoping to paint me in an awful light online the first chance they get.”
“So…we’re just going to leave Chase alone?”
“Nah, they’re trying to make this into a lose-lose situation for us,” Dexter mused. “But I’m going to give this guy a chance…see if he’s willing to hear me out and join our fight come Breakdown. Even prove that I’m not as intellectually stunted as anyone else he’s probably come across because my brain hasn’t melted from mindless doomscrolling or trying to indulge in useless TikTok ‘challenges” designed to get people hurt or killed for a good laugh. If he’s going to be ignorant enough to not hear us out, then he’s part of the flock after all and needs to be put down.”
“So this is the part where you’re gonna address him and…”
“Not quite,” Dexter says, reaching out and grabbing Wendell’s shoulder as he turns to go dig out the camera he’d brought with him. “We’re not going to address this one.”
“We’re not?” Poor Wendell looked confused.
“He’s not worth my breath, especially if he could be a potential believer in our cause. Our words are best saved for those who truly deserve them to burrow beneath their skin and cure the cancer that dwells beneath courtesy of those malicious digital media presences. I’ll give Chase the courtesy of thinking carefully about how he wants to approach this fight, and for his sake, hopefully he chooses to hear me out and side with us in our fight, for I’d like to hope we’re on the same side here.”
“As you wish Dexter.”
With that, Dexter and Wendell turned their conversation towards their future plan of attack after these next few Breakdowns. Wendell was skeptical, but he knew better than to doubt Dexter Grant at this point. Dexter had helped to save him and put him on the road to recovery, after all, and he had faith that the Digital Detoxer could do the same to others if they only listened to him.
He hoped that after these next few Breakdowns, they would do just that, even if he made them listen.