Post by Bruce "The Beast" Richards on Apr 27, 2007 23:05:53 GMT -5
(Friday Morning. The day of the second round of the A1E Tag Team Tournament. In less than twelve hours, Bruce “The Beast” Richards and partner/former opponent Simply Beautiful will face off against Chip Friendly and “Sensational” Steven Shane. Neither man is to be seen anywhere in our current setting, however. Inside the Denny’s restaurant there are isolated tables of people who are obviously wrestling fans, based on the t-shirts they’re wearing and the rolled up cardboard signs they have in their booths. In one booth close to a window, Tiffany McIntyre and Bill Fleming sit arguing with each other.)
TIFFANY: Bill, I have to talk to him about it.
BILL FLEMING: This isn’t the right time. Wait one day, that’s all I ask.
TIFFANY: That only leaves three days before his next match, when you’ll say the same thing again!
BILL FLEMING: That’s right, I will. Confronting Bruce with this directly will only lead down the road to badness, Tiffany. I’ve already dropped a few subtle hints, and he’s not taking the bait.
TIFFANY: Because you’re being a little wuss about it, Bill. He knows you’re not going to push him on it, so he can just ignore you and focus on...whatever the hell he wants to focus on. He needs someone to come right out and hit him in the face with it.
BILL FLEMING: Please, Tiffany, I’m begging you, don’t do it. (Stands up from the table.) I’ll get on my knees if I have to.
TIFFANY: I hate to see a grown man beg.
BILL FLEMING: Thanks.
TIFFANY: Whatever. (Looking around the restaurant.) Why always a Denny’s, Bill?
BILL FLEMING: (Shrugs.) Bruce loves this place. He’s a sucker for the pancakes.
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Walking up to the table.) And after the workout me and Andrew had this morning, I deserve some. (Sits down beside Tiffany and gives her a kiss on the forehead.) Mmm, conditioner-y. How was your flight, guys?
TIFFANY: It was okay. We watched Maid in Manhattan on the airplane!
BILL FLEMING and BRUCE RICHARDS: Ugh.
TIFFANY: (Rolling her eyes at them.) Did you take care of your mysterious business yesterday?
(Bruce Richards looks up, thinking to himself. Flashback. Outside the Circle K.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: Hello, Warren.
WARREN: Holy dude, man, people NEED to stop DOING that to me! I mean, how’s a dude supposed to read his comic book with people sneaking up on him like that? That’s heinous, dude. (Drawing it out.) Heinous.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Do you know who I am?
WARREN: (Thinks.) The Rhinestone Cowboy, but you lost your rhinestones?
BRUCE RICHARDS: No. Name’s Bruce. Bruce Richards.
WARREN: Oh. (Eyes widen.) OH. Hey, dude. What’s happening?
BRUCE RICHARDS: Just in town to do a little business. Go over my contract with REBEL, hammer out a few details, make sure they’re on the up-and-up. Things seemed to be in order.
WARREN: Cool. (Thumbs over to the Circle-K.) You just here to get a slurpee? The mango-watermelon’s totally righteous. Mix it with a little 7-Up, and you got a good way to quench a heinous thirst.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Sounds good, actually, but that’s not what I’m doing here. I was talking to Rex Caliber, you know he’s not just my boss but an old friend of mine, and he said this was your usual haunt. So I thought I’d come down and talk to you. You know, seeing as how you’re the special referee in my match, I thought I’d introduce myself.
(Bruce extends his hand with a warm grin on his face. Warren is a little hesitant to shake his hand, even going so far as to take a step back.)
WARREN: Uh, yeah? Dude, it’s nice to meet you.
BRUCE RICHARDS: You aren’t going to shake my hand?
WARREN: Nah, man, you don’t wanna shake my hands. I’ve got evaporation on them from my Super Big Gulp.
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Still holding his hand out.) Not evaporation. Condensation.
WARREN: (Smiling.) Integration!
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Frowning.) Aggravation.
WARREN: You’re no fun, dude.
BRUCE RICHARDS: You won’t shake my hand, Warren? That’s making me sad. And when I get sad...I get angry.
WARREN: Are you threatening me, dude? Because I’ll go Chuck Norris in Delta Force on your ass! (Swings out with a kick.) ROUNDHOUSE’D!
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Sigh.) Fine, don’t shake my hand. I thought we could have a little talk. About the match.
WARREN: Whoah, whoah, whoah there mister. You want me to, like, take it a little easy on you or something? Maybe...blow a call for Caliban? Because you know I’m not the dude to do that.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Actually, I wanted to make sure you didn’t favour anyone in the upcoming match.
WARREN: Huh?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I need you to call it straight. Right down the middle. I want to beat that monster and I want to do it clean. No help from you on your personal vendetta, or my manager, or anyone. This is between him and me. Got it?
WARREN: So...you just want me to do what I was going to do anyhow?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I’m glad we understand each other. And who knows? Maybe I can soften Caliban up for you next week. (Grins.) See you next week, Warren. I have a plane to catch.
(Suddenly, Warren reaches into his pocket. Bruce tenses. Warren proceeds to pull out...
A small, empty dixie cup.)
WARREN: Dude if you're flying….IF you're gonna spew, spew into this.
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Takes the cup and looks at Warren head half-cocked.) Thanks, Warren. I think. (Walks away.)
WARREN: (Calling out after him.) Party on, Garth!
(Cut back to Bruce staring into the air; Tiffany and Bill are sitting there awkwardly.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: Yeah, I took care of it.
BILL FLEMING: Good.
TIFFANY: Good. (Sips her milkshake.) I think it’s a bad idea that you’re going after Caliban.
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Eyes narrowed.) What?
BILL FLEMING: I begged you!
TIFFANY: I know! I panicked!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Why would you say that?
TIFFANY: Well, it’s just...maybe you’re spreading yourself too thin. I mean, doing the A1E tournament on top of your NAPW work is one thing, but then going out and attacking Caliban like that...what were you thinking?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I was thinking I needed to kick some ass. I was out there at the REBEL show to support our sister federation, cheer on Rex Caliber in his match, and then I see Caliban going ballistic. Taking out poor defenseless Warren and Joey Malone.
BILL FLEMING: You hate Joey Malone.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Yes, I do. But it’s one thing to mock, taunt, and give him wedgies. It’s quite another to do what Caliban did. Someone needed to teach that sonofabitch a lesson, and nobody else was stepping up for it. So it was up to me.
TIFFANY: Fine, sure, but then, why agree to fight him?
BRUCE RICHARDS: You think I can’t do it?
TIFFANY: No, I never said that. It’s just that Bill and I--
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Turns to Bill.) Et tu, Fleming?
BILL FLEMING: I’m looking at this from a purely business perspective. You’re trying to make a name for yourself in the NAPW in a solo career and trying to get some good recognition in A1E. Why risk throwing that away by getting in the ring with Caliban?
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Staring at both Tiffany and Bill.) You don’t think I can do it.
BILL FLEMING: Nobody’s saying that.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Nobody NEEDS to. I’m going in there with a (BLEEP) monster next week and the two people that are always in my corner are doubting me? I don’t believe you.
TIFFANY: We’re just worried about you.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Don’t worry about me. Worry about Caliban. Because he’s going to pay for what he did to those innocent people.
BILL FLEMING: Again, Bruce: talking about Joey Malone here. Not exactly innocent.
BRUCE RICHARDS: He deserves to pay. And I’m going to make him pay. REBEL style. A pound of flesh and then some. (Gets up from the table.) You two enjoy your breakfast. I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you ringside.
TIFFANY: You’re not going to the hotel?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I’ll see you. At ringside. (Leaves.)
TIFFANY: Well...that could have gone better.
BILL FLEMING: Yeah. It could have.
(They watch Bruce walking by outside the window as we fade to black.)
(Warren used with gracious permission. Also: thanks for the Dixie cup idea.)
TIFFANY: Bill, I have to talk to him about it.
BILL FLEMING: This isn’t the right time. Wait one day, that’s all I ask.
TIFFANY: That only leaves three days before his next match, when you’ll say the same thing again!
BILL FLEMING: That’s right, I will. Confronting Bruce with this directly will only lead down the road to badness, Tiffany. I’ve already dropped a few subtle hints, and he’s not taking the bait.
TIFFANY: Because you’re being a little wuss about it, Bill. He knows you’re not going to push him on it, so he can just ignore you and focus on...whatever the hell he wants to focus on. He needs someone to come right out and hit him in the face with it.
BILL FLEMING: Please, Tiffany, I’m begging you, don’t do it. (Stands up from the table.) I’ll get on my knees if I have to.
TIFFANY: I hate to see a grown man beg.
BILL FLEMING: Thanks.
TIFFANY: Whatever. (Looking around the restaurant.) Why always a Denny’s, Bill?
BILL FLEMING: (Shrugs.) Bruce loves this place. He’s a sucker for the pancakes.
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Walking up to the table.) And after the workout me and Andrew had this morning, I deserve some. (Sits down beside Tiffany and gives her a kiss on the forehead.) Mmm, conditioner-y. How was your flight, guys?
TIFFANY: It was okay. We watched Maid in Manhattan on the airplane!
BILL FLEMING and BRUCE RICHARDS: Ugh.
TIFFANY: (Rolling her eyes at them.) Did you take care of your mysterious business yesterday?
(Bruce Richards looks up, thinking to himself. Flashback. Outside the Circle K.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: Hello, Warren.
WARREN: Holy dude, man, people NEED to stop DOING that to me! I mean, how’s a dude supposed to read his comic book with people sneaking up on him like that? That’s heinous, dude. (Drawing it out.) Heinous.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Do you know who I am?
WARREN: (Thinks.) The Rhinestone Cowboy, but you lost your rhinestones?
BRUCE RICHARDS: No. Name’s Bruce. Bruce Richards.
WARREN: Oh. (Eyes widen.) OH. Hey, dude. What’s happening?
BRUCE RICHARDS: Just in town to do a little business. Go over my contract with REBEL, hammer out a few details, make sure they’re on the up-and-up. Things seemed to be in order.
WARREN: Cool. (Thumbs over to the Circle-K.) You just here to get a slurpee? The mango-watermelon’s totally righteous. Mix it with a little 7-Up, and you got a good way to quench a heinous thirst.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Sounds good, actually, but that’s not what I’m doing here. I was talking to Rex Caliber, you know he’s not just my boss but an old friend of mine, and he said this was your usual haunt. So I thought I’d come down and talk to you. You know, seeing as how you’re the special referee in my match, I thought I’d introduce myself.
(Bruce extends his hand with a warm grin on his face. Warren is a little hesitant to shake his hand, even going so far as to take a step back.)
WARREN: Uh, yeah? Dude, it’s nice to meet you.
BRUCE RICHARDS: You aren’t going to shake my hand?
WARREN: Nah, man, you don’t wanna shake my hands. I’ve got evaporation on them from my Super Big Gulp.
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Still holding his hand out.) Not evaporation. Condensation.
WARREN: (Smiling.) Integration!
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Frowning.) Aggravation.
WARREN: You’re no fun, dude.
BRUCE RICHARDS: You won’t shake my hand, Warren? That’s making me sad. And when I get sad...I get angry.
WARREN: Are you threatening me, dude? Because I’ll go Chuck Norris in Delta Force on your ass! (Swings out with a kick.) ROUNDHOUSE’D!
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Sigh.) Fine, don’t shake my hand. I thought we could have a little talk. About the match.
WARREN: Whoah, whoah, whoah there mister. You want me to, like, take it a little easy on you or something? Maybe...blow a call for Caliban? Because you know I’m not the dude to do that.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Actually, I wanted to make sure you didn’t favour anyone in the upcoming match.
WARREN: Huh?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I need you to call it straight. Right down the middle. I want to beat that monster and I want to do it clean. No help from you on your personal vendetta, or my manager, or anyone. This is between him and me. Got it?
WARREN: So...you just want me to do what I was going to do anyhow?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I’m glad we understand each other. And who knows? Maybe I can soften Caliban up for you next week. (Grins.) See you next week, Warren. I have a plane to catch.
(Suddenly, Warren reaches into his pocket. Bruce tenses. Warren proceeds to pull out...
A small, empty dixie cup.)
WARREN: Dude if you're flying….IF you're gonna spew, spew into this.
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Takes the cup and looks at Warren head half-cocked.) Thanks, Warren. I think. (Walks away.)
WARREN: (Calling out after him.) Party on, Garth!
(Cut back to Bruce staring into the air; Tiffany and Bill are sitting there awkwardly.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: Yeah, I took care of it.
BILL FLEMING: Good.
TIFFANY: Good. (Sips her milkshake.) I think it’s a bad idea that you’re going after Caliban.
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Eyes narrowed.) What?
BILL FLEMING: I begged you!
TIFFANY: I know! I panicked!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Why would you say that?
TIFFANY: Well, it’s just...maybe you’re spreading yourself too thin. I mean, doing the A1E tournament on top of your NAPW work is one thing, but then going out and attacking Caliban like that...what were you thinking?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I was thinking I needed to kick some ass. I was out there at the REBEL show to support our sister federation, cheer on Rex Caliber in his match, and then I see Caliban going ballistic. Taking out poor defenseless Warren and Joey Malone.
BILL FLEMING: You hate Joey Malone.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Yes, I do. But it’s one thing to mock, taunt, and give him wedgies. It’s quite another to do what Caliban did. Someone needed to teach that sonofabitch a lesson, and nobody else was stepping up for it. So it was up to me.
TIFFANY: Fine, sure, but then, why agree to fight him?
BRUCE RICHARDS: You think I can’t do it?
TIFFANY: No, I never said that. It’s just that Bill and I--
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Turns to Bill.) Et tu, Fleming?
BILL FLEMING: I’m looking at this from a purely business perspective. You’re trying to make a name for yourself in the NAPW in a solo career and trying to get some good recognition in A1E. Why risk throwing that away by getting in the ring with Caliban?
BRUCE RICHARDS: (Staring at both Tiffany and Bill.) You don’t think I can do it.
BILL FLEMING: Nobody’s saying that.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Nobody NEEDS to. I’m going in there with a (BLEEP) monster next week and the two people that are always in my corner are doubting me? I don’t believe you.
TIFFANY: We’re just worried about you.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Don’t worry about me. Worry about Caliban. Because he’s going to pay for what he did to those innocent people.
BILL FLEMING: Again, Bruce: talking about Joey Malone here. Not exactly innocent.
BRUCE RICHARDS: He deserves to pay. And I’m going to make him pay. REBEL style. A pound of flesh and then some. (Gets up from the table.) You two enjoy your breakfast. I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you ringside.
TIFFANY: You’re not going to the hotel?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I’ll see you. At ringside. (Leaves.)
TIFFANY: Well...that could have gone better.
BILL FLEMING: Yeah. It could have.
(They watch Bruce walking by outside the window as we fade to black.)
(Warren used with gracious permission. Also: thanks for the Dixie cup idea.)