The TV flashes on. You're mindlessly flipping through channels, an explosion there, a laugh track here, nothing too good is on. Suddenly, you stop, it's the news. The headline reads "Recap of Last Night's Black Lives Matter Protest". The view zooms in, showing the hundreds, maybe even thousands of attendees swaying back and forth in the night, singing the chorus of Kendrick Lamar's "Alright". Some have candles, others, signs.

The camera pans upwards, there's a black man on stage, talking in a quiet, soothing voice. The singing stops for now.

Speaker: My brothers and sisters, we are here today for all the wrong reasons. Black men and women are getting shot in the streets, not because of their actions, but, because of their skin.

Suddenly, a man wearing a hoodie, some hot pink Oakley's, and rather form fitting khakis hops on the stage, rudely prying the mic from the other man's hands.

Speaker: Hey, what do you think you're doi-

The unknown man spun around, pulling down his hood to reveal an absolutely gorgeous head of hair. It is the one, the only, the gorgeous, Apollo Mars.

Apollo: Hello, men and women. Dare I say, brothers and sisters?

He offered that oh so charming smile of his, continuing, as the previous speaker tried to take the mic away.

Apollo: I'm sure you all saw my match last nigh-

Apollo grabbed the oh so annoying man, tripping him over and into the crowd, much to the disdain of his "adoring fans".

Apollo: And I'd just like to formally apologize for beating the black out of "yallsis home dawg dizzy, Nightmare". Or, as I like to say, future inmate 99278, am I right, guys?

Apollo threw his head back in laughter, pulling out a pocket mirror shortly thereafter, checking on his hair for a long minute, the crowd growing angrier.

Apollo: I mean, I guess I'm a bit of a klutz...I am Pretty Boy Dropping wrestlers left and right. Clumsy me. Speaking of that, I can't wait tell both Jones and Enigma are on the receiving end of it. Hell, I'll do it to them both at the same time. I bet y'all folk would like that, wouldn't ya? And it's not paper view, so you should be able to afford it. Prepare to watch one of your own people be crushed!

Apollo lapped around the center of the stage, speaking slowly. His sunglasses remained on, even though it was well after dark.

Apollo: But, while I'm here...would you really say black lives matter? I'd say they only matter 3/5 as much.

The crowd grew more aggressive, yelling bleeped out profanities now.

Apollo: Oh, I jest, I jest. Only kidding.

Apollo moved his head to the side, mumbling something along the lines of "sort of".

The clip ends, and some blonde news anchor gives her totally rehearsed feedback. You get bored, and flip the channel. The remote's battery dies, and while you fumble for new ones, some infomercial comes on for the Pretty bo-y flex, with Apollo Mars getting a serious pump in. It zooms in, and he turns his head.

Apollo: I use the Pretty BO-y FLEX to increase strength gains, so I can assist Team Pretty Team in crushing all who oppose us. By assist, I mean do all of i-

You flip that garbage off right when you get in new batteries, channel surfing once more. You stop at one of the hundreds of talk show, only to hear some John Stewart/Jay Leno hybrid introducing tonight's guest, Mr. Mars.

Apollo struts out from backstage all cocky-like. Hair done masterfully, dark black sunglasses - probably Oakley's -, bright white suit, with black undershirt and white tie, and shiny black dress shoes. Knowing Apollo, they were pry made of Baby Seal Skin.

Apollo: Well it's a pleasure to be here. Bestowing my beauty to your thousands of viewers. It's almost my responsibility, you know?

Host: Oh sure, sure. So, have you seen that clip of you at the BLM rally? It's spreading, lot's of controversy about that..

Apollo: Well, I use a combination of shampoo, conditioner, and hairspray to keep my hair so luxurious. Thanks for asking.

Host: Well, that doesn't answer my question, but alright. How do you feel about a large chunk of the black community, if not disliking you, absolutely despising you? And you're apparent disbelief of having white privilege?

Apollo: I'm more of a briefs guy, myself. More specifically, Calvin Klein powers. Also, to answer your second question, you think it's fun having to rub tanning oil on this tight, toned body? That's not privilege at all.

Host: Uh hu...and your apparent donations to the Trump campaign?

Apollo: Well, that wasn't because I liked him. I mean, look at his hair. How could I be a part of something that doesn't share it's same ideals on hair. I just did it because I knew a lot of people disliked him. Next up, the Clintmeister.

He chuckled, wiping a tear of laughter from his cheek.

Host: Uh hu...and you-

Apollo: My upcoming match? It'll be great. Me and Owens will stomp on that petty duo. Jeremiah doesn't cooperate with others of different color, and Enigma will still be mad about his title loss. But me and Owens, we got that chemistry, you know? A superkick here, kidney punch there, and voila, we'll come out the winners.

You turn the TV off. That's enough ignorance and blatant racism for the night.