You Ain't Ready For All Of This

Behind The Cool: The Aaron Miles Story

Narrator: Today I would like to tell you the story of the man known all over the world as "The Epitome Of Cool", Mr. Aaron Rutherford Miles. His story is one of lost love, sadness, depression and anger. Yet is also one of courage, triumph and, of course, cool. But where did it all begin? How did a simple man from Omaha, Nebraska become the symbol of all things cool that he is today? How was he able to seemingly appear out of thin air and become so instantly recognizable? Well today, after being shrouded in mystery and talked about only in a hushed whisper, his story will finally be told. So ladies and gentlemen, please, come with me as I take you on a journey all the way back to the beginning.

Epilogue: Sexy Beginnings

Narrator: Our story begins on one fateful, beautifully sunny day in Omaha, Nebraska in 2015. In this sleepy little town in the American midwest, sitting on his beat-up old couch in his rundown, one bedroom apartment, we find a young Aaron Miles.

The flashback is frozen at we get our first glimpse at the man that would become "The Epitome Of Cool". Tangled and matted brown hair that doesn't look like it's been washed or combed in weeks. A white shirt with sweat stains and various other "mystery" stains, some so set in you wonder if it's ever been washed. And his pants? Well they're not in the scene, as he's apparently decided to free ball it today. Thankfully this flashback has been edited for frontal nudity, as it's not on HBO. Aaron is currently sitting with his feet propped up on an overturned milk carton, staring ahead at a television set with a blank look on his face and an unlit marijuana joint between his lips.

Narrator: Look at him. A far cry from what he will soon become. Dirty, lazy, high on drugs and wasting his life away on his couch for the thirtieth day in a row. Recently his greatest accomplishment was forgetting that dropping your toaster into your bathtub will only kill you if you remember to plug it in.

The scene briefly jumps to Miles sitting in the bathtub, his genitals again blurred out. He's got a toaster raised over his head and a sad look on his face.

Aaron Miles: "TODAY I WILL FINALLY END IT!"

With that, Aaron drops the toaster into the bath water. He winces, expecting to be shocked to death, but nothing happens except for a splash.

Aaron Miles: "What the hell?"

He pulls the toaster from the water and drops it a second time, again to no result. Angered, Miles pulls the toaster out of the water and throws it across the bathroom. It hits the light and breaks the glass, sending the room into pitch black darkness.

Aaron Miles: "Next time I'm going with sleeping pills."

The scene jumps back to the frozen of image of Miles on the couch.

Narrator: "However, on this day, Aaron Miles is going to thank the cosmic forces for not letting him die on that day. For this is the day that forever changed his life. This was the day that Aaron Miles discovered The Cool."

As the announcer's voice fades out on the last word, the scene magically unfreezes. Miles begins searching between the couch cushions for a lighter so that he can enjoy his joint.

Aaron Miles: "Son of a bitch, I just used the damn thing last night. Where the hell did it get to?"

Miles pulls himself off of the couch and gets down onto his knees so he can search under the couch. Thankfully we're again lucky for the blurring technology of today. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Miles stands back up and heads for the kitchen. He stands in front of his stove and tries to turn on a burner, but nothing happens. He tries the other burners and even the oven, but none of them come on.

Aaron Miles: "Damn it! They finally turned off the gas! Shit, what am I supposed to do now?"

As he ponders his next move, even giving a glance toward the toaster, there's a knock at the door.

Aaron Miles: "Shit. What day is it?"

There's another knock at the door as Aaron slowly makes his way to it. He peeks through the peephole.

Aaron Miles: "Uh, is that you Mr. Jones? I'm pretty sure the rent isn't due until tomorrow, so if you could-"

Aaron pulls the door open, only to find that there's no one standing outside. He peeks his head out and looks to the sides but sees no one.

Aaron Miles: "The hell? Damn kids knocking on my door and shit."

Aaron slams the door shut and heads back into his apartment, mumbling to himself. Suddenly he stops as he sees an old man sitting on his couch. With his long white hair and a very long, grey beard, the man is fumbling around inside of his long white robe.

Aaron Miles: "What in the actual fuck? Who the hell are you? Are you jerking it on my couch? Get out!"

Old Man: "Relax, I'm not jerking it. I'm just looking for-"

The old man stops speaking as he pulls out a large, intricately decorated glass bong.

Old Man: "for this. Come, smoke with me my son."

Aaron Miles: "Uh, how about no. Instead, you should get out."

Old Man: "Relax, I'm not here to harm you. In fact, it's quite the opposite. You see, I'm here to help you."

Aaron Miles: "Help me? You broke into my house and made yourself at home on my couch, rummaging around in your robe for, what I'll admit, is a rather nice bong. How did you even get in here?"

Old Man: "Magic."

Aaron rolls his eyes and looks over toward the window, which is of course open.

Aaron Miles: "Magic, huh?"

Old Man: "Please, sit. Smoke with me from my special bong and learn what it is that I've come here to teach you."

Aaron Miles: "How do I know you don't have some plan to kill me? That shit could be laced with poison or something."

Old Man: "Fair enough."

The old man produces a match from within his sleeve, strikes it against his robe and then takes a rather long rip from his bong as Miles looks on impressed. The old man lets out a long breath of smoke and then turns to Miles.

Old Man: "Better?"

Aaron takes a moment to think about the situation and then shrugs his shoulders before making his way to the couch. He makes sure to sit on the far end away from the old man, but appears to be more calm about the situation. The old man passes him the bong and watches as Aaron takes a hit of his own.

Old Man: "So look, I'm not going to beat around the bush because I can tell just by looking around this dump that you are in desperate need of my help. So what I'm going to offer you is a chance to become what you were originally destined to be. To get away from this crap life and go on to bigger and much bigger things. I've been watching you for a while now and I believe now is the time to change your life."

Aaron Miles: "Dude, this weed is good but there's no way it's that good."

Old Man: "It's not weed you idiot."

Aaron Miles: "Yeah it is, I'm smoking it right now."

Old Man: "No, what I'm talking to you about. It's not weed that I'm offering you."

Aaron Miles: "But you just offered me-"

Old Man: "Forget about the weed for one second."

Miles looks at the old man confused and then goes back to take another hit, only to discover that the bong is missing.

Aaron Miles: "What the hell?"

Old Man: "As I was saying, I've been watching you for years now, waiting for the right moment to come to you with the knowledge that I possess. Originally I was going to wait until your 21st birthday, but after seeing that disastrous suicide attempt and realizing that you may try it again, I decided now was the time to act. So, are you ready?"

The old man looks over to Aaron for an answer, only to find him with his joint once again between his lips and digging through his couch for his lighter. The old man shakes his head and then slaps him across the face.

Old Man: "Pay attention you dumb asshole. I'm trying to help you."

Aaron Miles: "What the hell? Don't you slap me, you old jackass. Get out of my apartment!"

Old Man: "Guess I'll just have to do this the hard way."

The old man bitch slaps the crap out of the left side of Aaron's head with a glowing open hand, leaving behind a glimmering hand print. Aaron shakes it off and then suddenly seems more focused than he has in his entire lifetime.

Old Man: "For too long life has been shitting all over you. That all changes now. From this point on you're going to look life in the eyes, flip it off and then kick it in the nuts, because you are the man."

Aaron nods agreeably.

Old Man: "People are going to see you walking down the street and they are all going to stop and gawk in awe at your awesomeness. Women will want you, men will want to be you and children will dream about growing up to be you. And you want to know why? It's because you're going to be Cool. The Epitome of Cool to be exact."

Aaron shoots the old man a befuddled look.

Aaron Miles: "The Epitome of Cool? How am I supposed to be that?"

Old Man: "By using this."

The old man reaches into his robe and produces a pamphlet which he hands to Aaron. Miles cringes at the idea of touching that was obviously just resting dangerously close to the old man's balls, but still looks at it with intrigue.

Old Man: "Everything you need to know about being Cool is right there inside of that pamphlet. Don't lose it and never share it's secrets with anyone. Now go forth my son, and live as how I have told you."

Aaron Miles: "Wait, just one question. Are you God?"

Old Man: Sure, let's go with that.

Aaron opens up the pamphlet and scans over the first page.

Aaron Miles: "Okay, so how exactly am I supposed to-"

Aaron looks up to find the old man has already disappeared. He looks over toward the window, which is still open, and raises his eyebrow. He walks over to the window and looks out toward the street in time to see a flash of white robe as it disappears into the darkness of an alley across the street. He looks back down at the pamphlet in his hands and then back out the window.

Aaron Miles: "Did that shit really just happen or was that-"

Miles cuts himself off as he spots his lighter resting on the floor near him.

Aaron Miles: "Success!"

Miles scoops up his lighter and then retrieves his joint from the couch. He takes a seat and places the joint between his lips before lighting the end of it. After taking a long hit and letting the smoke out, he opens the pamphlet back up and goes back to reading it over.

Aaron Miles: "Well let's just see what this old man had to say."

Narrator: "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the absolute true story of the day that changed the life of Aaron Miles. It was on that day that Aaron Miles first learned the secrets that helped him become "The Epitome of Cool". While he could have dismissed the encounter as a dream brought on by marijuana, or as a run-in with a delusional homeless man, he decided to read that pamphlet in it's entirety and learned to live by it's teachings. Soon everything in his life, from his appearance, to his relationships, to his entire outlook on life in general, all of it changed for the better. Or, more fittingly, for the Cool. And now that you know the story about how the man became the legend, you are finally ready to meet him for yourselves. Consider yourselves lucky that he's even allowing you to be in his presence, for he is truly a man that has no equal. Your bodies and your minds are not ready for what is to come, but you will be telling your children, who will then tell their children, who will then tell their children and so on throughout all of the generations of your families' existences about his glorious arrival into the land of United Championship Infinite. Ready yourselves, mere mortals, as best as you can, for the next chapter in his story begins your lives as his shadow."

The scene freezes on a shot of Miles as he's reading the pamphlet, mid-drag of his joint. The picture fades out to black before cutting to an image of a cleaned up Aaron Miles standing inside of a voice over booth. He pulls off the headphones that he's wearing and pushes the door open. A female assistant runs up to him with a bottle of water in one hand and silk robe in the other. After opening the bottle and handing it to Miles, the woman places the robe on him and assists him in putting it on.

Aaron Miles: "You know, I'm still not really feeling that last line. I like the part where I insult the people watching, but there's no way that they could every be ready for what's coming. Telling them to ready themselves just seems too cruel. What do you think?

Woman: "I think that whatever you think is the best idea."

Aaron Miles: "Good, I'm glad to see you're learning. All right, let's take this thing from the top. And you, you go wait for me in my trailer. I'll be in later to help you with your lines, sugar tits."

Woman: "Ooo, I have lines?"

Aaron Miles: "No, I was kidding about that. What I'm really going to do is stick it in your ass."

Woman: "Either way it's a good day for me."

The woman turns and walks off, giving a little extra wiggle for Miles' benefit. He chuckles to himself as he takes another sip from his water bottle. He turns to the camera and gives it a wink before heading back into the voice over booth.

Aaron Miles: "You know what, screw taking it from the top. Let's just go back a few minutes and re-do the last few lines."

The scene fades out to black as Miles begins speaking again.

Chapter One: The Bulge Arrives In UCI

The scene opens with the image of a finely chiseled man's chest, covered in a thick, dark brown coat of manly hair. It's glistening under the bright sun in the sky, almost like a diamond. The camera pulls back as we see Aaron Miles, clad in a button down shirt that's been left hanging open and a pair of dark jeans, lounging nonchalantly on a leather couch in his South Beach apartment. He has a tall glass of ice water in one hand, his cell phone in the either. As he scrolls through his phone a woman walks into the scene holding up a dress in each hand.

Woman: "Which one do you think brings out my eyes the best?"

Miles takes the briefest of looks before turning back to his phone.

Aaron Miles: "Doesn't matter, just go with the one that brings out your can the best."

Woman: "So then the blue one!"

The woman turns and walks back out of the scene.

Aaron Miles: "Why the hell do women think guys care if their eyes sparkle or not? Just because they're always telling us to look where their tits aren't, that doesn't mean we'll listen. Hmm, I should tweet that."

Miles begins typing away on his phone as another woman walks into the scene, this one with a phone in her hand.

Woman: "Phone for you. It's that new company you signed with, you something-"

Aaron Miles: "UCI. What do they want?"

Woman: "They say they've been trying to get hold of you to schedule a meeting regarding some appearances. What should I tell them?"

Aaron Miles: "Tell them they should have worked appearances into my contract before I signed it. If they want this face appearing at Comic Cons and at hospitals for sick kids, they need to open the checkbook back up."

Woman: "Open the checkbook back up, got it."

The woman hits the unmute button on the cell phone and walks off.

Aaron Miles: "They really think they can get me to work on my day off? Aaron Miles is many things, sex god...genius...sex god again, but sucker ain't one of them. 'Oh, but Aaron, think of the children with cancer!' Why? What have they done for me lately? Not a god damn thing. Now where the hell are my sunglasses?"

Miles reaches behind him and feels around on a table for his sunglasses but comes up empty.

Aaron Miles: "Any of you cunts seen my sunglasses lately?"

There's no answer.

Aaron Miles: "No? Am I talking to myself here? Fuck, when am I actually going to find some decent help."

With a sigh, Miles lets his feet drop down onto the floor and he pushes himself up off the couch. As he walks through the living room we begin to get a better first look at the apartment that he calls home. The walls, an almost blinding white, are adorned with framed photographs of Miles with various celebrities and dignitaries. There's even one of Miles and The Pope sharing a fist bump. As he passes by a fireplace we see an enlarged copy of the famous pamphlet that turned Miles from normal to The Cool. The camera begins to zoom in on it's opened pages until the camera is yanked away.

Aaron Miles: "Nuh uh, you don't get a peek behind the curtain until you pay the admission. That'll be $39.95."

There's no answer from the cameraman but it's safe to assume he didn't break out his wallet as he continues to follow Miles through the apartment.

Aaron Miles: "Seriously, anyone seen my shades? Or maybe an assistant that isn't a complete waste of space? Really, either would be great right about now."

Woman: "I think I saw them in the kitchen."

Aaron Miles: "Oh? Well it'd be great if I could see them in your hands as you bring them to me from the kitchen. Fuck, what am I even paying you for?"

The woman scurries off to the kitchen to retrieve Miles' sunglasses as he turns to the camera.

Aaron Miles: "Seriously, is it just me? I mean, I'm not speaking Spanish am I? Or maybe I need to start speaking Spanish? ¿Por qué carajos eres tan lento? There, did that speed things up any?"

The woman reappears, sunglasses in hand. She hands them to him and then disappears back into the room she was cleaning. Miles wipes the lenses off on his shirt and then slides them on. They're jet black with mirror frames. A lone T on the side of them is the only logo.

Aaron Miles: "I bet you're wondering what the T stands for. Never you mind because disgusting little mongoloids like those of you watching right now can't afford them, let alone fathom the idea behind this logo. There isn't a pamphlet in existence that could even begin to help you with that."

Miles heads back into the living room and again takes a seat on his couch, letting his feet rest on the arm on the opposite end as he stares up at the ceiling.

Aaron Miles: "Now then, speaking of little mongoloids, you're here because this Sunday marks my debut in the hottest new wrestling company on the planet, UCI. UCI and I go hand in hand, really. We're both the most talked about thing in the world right now. We're both hotter than the mother fucking sun. And we're both on the tip of every person's tongue. But the biggest difference between the two of us is that while people are ready for UCI, no one is ready for my debut. No one knows what to expect when The Epitome Of Cool makes his grand entrance for the first time. No one knows what I'll say or do the first time I step into the ring and am handed a microphone. I might just stand in the center of the ring and not say a word for 15 minutes. But I guarantee you that 15 minutes would get the highest ratings for the entire damn show because there wouldn't be a single damn household that would be willing to turn the channel and risk not hearing what I have to say. This face right here is what is going to bring in the viewers that the UCI brass craves and this beautiful voice is going to be what keeps them entertained long enough to stick it through the rest of the show."

Miles pulls his cell phone back out into view and stares at the screen as he continues talking.

Aaron Miles: "What? You think there's anyone else on this roster that can be as entertaining as I am? That there is anyone else that can pull in the pussy and then wet it just by opening their mouth? I have a gift that I'm willing to share with the world, for a rather handsome contract if I do say so myself, and it's a gift that no one else in UCI can offer to it's audience. I offer the gift of The Cool, the mystical message guaranteed to turn any of the mongoloids in the crowd into passable human beings. I want to help the people that come to see me, mostly because I can't stand to be around so many pathetic little pieces of shit. Honestly, I just fear that one of these days I'm going to catch the disease you people have that makes you the disgusting trash that you are."

Miles lowers his phone as one of the women in the apartment approaches him and hands him a copy of the legendary "The Cool" pamphlet. The woman then walks off, but not before Miles gives her a smack on the ass.

Aaron Miles: "You see that? Women at my beck and call, doing my bidding without needing to be asked. There was a time, a sad, sad time, when that wasn't what my life was like. A time when I was just like you. But this here, it changed me into the man that you see in front of you today. And it can change each and every one of you as well. It's my gift to the world, for a small price of course, but honestly can any of you afford to let something like money get in the way of changing your entire life for the better? No, you can't. That was a rhetorical question because all of you people out there in the world need my help. You need what I have to teach you and you need it now. And lucky for all of you I'm going to be changing your lives, one small group at a time, each week through UCI programming. You come to a UCI show, you'll get one of these here. It's but a small sampling of the actual 'The Cool' pamphlet, just enough to make you see the light and realize how pathetic your lives are. Then, once your eyes are finally opened, then you'll be ready for the real thing."

Miles lets the pamphlet fall to the floor as he goes back to looking at his phone.

Aaron Miles: "Now then, back to this Sunday night. The debut of UCI marks the debut of yours truly, the latter of course being the most exciting news, and with this new beginning comes opportunity. An opportunity to make a statement in this industry. An opportunity to reach out to a fan base that is hungry for something new, something exciting and something entertaining. I offer all of that and so much more, which is what makes UCI the place to be. Forget the rest of the roster, the little peons are simply along for the ride as they put on their best little acts to warm you up for the main attraction, muah. Make no mistake, I am the true main event of UCI each and every night, despite whatever the powers at be try to shove down your throats. I have no equals in UCI, no real competition to challenge me for the throne atop the company. Each week you'll bear witness to the glory that is me and then be disappointed by the lackluster shit of an inferior group of talent. But don't fret, my presence will never be diminished and the spotlight that's on me will never burn out. My aura is strong enough that you will feel it long before my entrance music hits and long after the show has ended. For when you are The Cool, you are truly everywhere at all times."

Miles clicks a few times on his phone and then types something in before continuing.

Aaron Miles: "This Sunday, as I begin my mission to purify the UCI fans through my pamphlets, I will be stepping into the ring with not one, but two such talents. The men known as Chase Jackson and Rai. I could lie here, pick them apart and expose all of their weaknesses, but what would I truly gain in further breaking them down? Are they not suffering as it is, knowing that they are stepping into the ring with a man so far above them? I will do my best to help them, but even I have to wonder if they are beyond saving at this point? My methods are effective, I've had to put them to the test before, but with these two I have to question if they are worth my time. For the amount of work I'd have to put in trying to bring them back from the mongoloid status they've acheived...oh, what am I saying, it's not worth my time to try. Now don't go thinking that Aaron Miles is a quitter, my dear faithfuls out there watching. For I rarely allow myself to give up on someone that is in need of my help. But honestly, can anyone of you look upon these two poor souls and tell me that they're worth it? Can you? In fact, cunts, come in here for a moment."

A few seconds pass before the three women in the apartment appear in the scene.

Aaron Miles: "Take a look at these two men and tell me the first word that comes to your head."

Miles holds up the phone for the women to see.

Woman: "Sad."

Woman: "Depressing."

Woman: "Mongoloid."

Aaron Miles: "Whoa, that's my word, cunt. Now get the fuck out, all of you."

Miles waves off the women and then lowers his phone so he can go back to looking at it.

Aaron Miles: "Bitches in here stealing my words. But back to business, if I cannot save the poor schmucks that are Chase Jackson and Rai, then I must do the most humane thing and end their suffering before it consumes them to a point that they become even more depressing human beings, such as janitors or those guys that write fan fiction on the Internet. Yes, I must do right by them and help them by ending their careers before they can truly begin, thus saving them the heartache of weekly losses and disinterest from the crowd. No man, despite how lackluster they are, should have to endure that kind of treatment. I mean, people can be cruel. The things they'd hear if they'd be allowed to continue on. The chants of "boring" from the crowd. The constant losing streaks that lead to not being booked because management is tired of losing viewers when they're on TV. The piles and piles of merchandise that they have to give away to their friends and family, just so someone will wear it, but then it gets stuffed into the back of a closet somewhere, only to be seen when they go over to visit. It's terrible and it needs to be ended before it can start."

Miles sight and then tucks his phone away as he continues to stare up at the ceiling.

Aaron Miles: "I've got such big plans for UCI and it's audience, all of them right up here in this beautiful brain of mine. I could share them all with you but then I'd be depriving you the thrill of watching them unfold. We mustn't treat them like presents on Christmas day, being torn to shreds in a tornado or ribbon and wrapping paper, no. We must treat them delicately and carefully, allow them to reveal themselves to us, for patience is a virtue. There you go, consider that your lesson for the day, free of charge. 'Nobody likes an overanxious bitch, so learn to wait'. However, I must say that Chase Jackson and Rai can skip over that lesson, for they won't have the time to be patient. See what I did there? I turned my lesson right around and used it against them. Clever, eh?"

There's no comment from the cameraman.

Aaron Miles: "You know, you've been awfully quiet all this time. Aren't you allowed to speak?"

Cameraman: "No, we can talk. But I think you got some bad information or something, because I'm not the one they sent for you to talk with."

Aaron Miles: "Wait, what?"

Cameraman: "Yeah, see, the interviewer they sent over isn't here yet. I'm just the guy running the camera."

Aaron Miles: "So you mean to tell me I just wasted all of this gold on a camera monkey? You were filming, right? For the love of fuck, tell me you were recording."

Cameraman: "Oh, no, I got it all on camera."

Aaron Miles: "Good, so you're not as stupid as you look. Well, I'm done with you, so leave. If you see that interviewer on your way out of here tell him to go as well, Aaron Miles doesn't do second takes."

Cameraman: "Uh, okay. I guess."

There's an awkward pause as the cameraman stays where he's at, still filming. Miles continues to stare up at the ceiling for a few moments before he realizes the cameraman hasn't left.

Aaron Miles: "The door is literally right over there, you can see it from where you're standing. So what's the issue?"

Cameraman: "Any chance I can get one of those there pamphlets?"

Miles turns his head, lowers his shades, looks the cameraman up and down once and then scoffs.

Aaron Miles: "You? You're even more worse off than Jackson and Rai. Not even the Cool God himself could pull you out of the mongoloid state your sorry ass is in. Now get."

Miles points toward the door and the cameraman begrudgingly heads toward it. He pulls it open and steps outside, just as FPV is preparing to knock.

FPV: "Oh, dude, sorry I'm late. Traffic was a mess all the way from the airport. So is this place? Is he ready?"

Cameraman: "Yeah, we already have everything we're going to get out of this asshole. Just count your losses and turn around now."

The scene fades out with a shot of a very confused FPV as he watches the cameraman sulk away.