Post by maniac on Jan 21, 2006 15:18:43 GMT -5
****SCENE****
October 28th, 1995 – 7:04pm
{Memories can be a funny thing. Why is it that there are moments in life you remember with crystal clear clarity, moments that in the long run don’t really account for much at all, but there are times when you can’t remember something that you know you know when it really matters? Have you ever walked in to a room and forgotten why you entered, picked up the phone and forgotten the number you wanted to dial or been asked a question and couldn’t quite think of the right answer? Yet despite all that you can remember your first day at school, remember the name of some bully who used to pick on you or remember the name of the first person you kissed. It’s seemingly unimportant memories that build us into the people we are, that help mould us in to the people we should become, and without those memories we could be entirely different people.}
{The nicest people on the planet who get amnesia can turn in to the worst types of people, depending on what memories they build once they recover. Contrastly, the nastiest of serial killers could turn in to the nicest guy in the world if positive memories are built where none exist. What memories do you hold close to you, which to you remember that help build you in to the person you are today? I’ve got a lot of memories that have helped change my life, many I hold dear to my heart, but there’s a few that sent me down the wrong path. There was one in particular I remember incredibly well; although which way it sent my life is something I’m still unsure of. It was back in October of 1995, just one day after my twenty-first birthday and Shawn and I desperately needed an escape.}
{We’d spent the whole day in Mark Xamin’s basement going over the basics of the business for the fiftieth time and while we were both so overconfident that we knew everything, Xamin insisted that we still had a long way to go. The long hours of training and lack of income however had made us both ridiculously broke so when I entered Frankie’s that night so long ago it was without a penny in my pocket. As I walked up to the bar Frankie walked up to us and laughed.}
Bartender: You kids back again? Hasn’t Xamin beaten the hell out of you yet?
Shawn Wright: More than you know dude, more than you know. But can we get some drinks already, I’m (BLEEP)ing thirsty.
Bartender: What’ll it be, kids?
{It amazes me how little Frankie has changed over the years, still with the scruffy haircut, the scraggly beard and the beer belly he wore with pride, hanging out over the top of his pants and with a t-shirt just to small to cover it all over the top. Still, his bar was cheap and his drinks were good so we kept coming back, despite the fact all the regulars were drunken fools – then again that pretty much fits the definition of anyone you can label a “regular” to a bar, does it not?}
Shawn Wright: I’ll get a vodka martini, {Scottish accent} shaken not stirred. {defensively} What? I always wanted to say that.
Michael Thomas: I’ll just get a coke.
{Frankie got the two drinks, shaking Nick’s drink right in front of his face to prove a point, and served them up before holding his hand out for the money. I kind of looked at him and shrugged, trying to sound like a “regular”.}
Michael Thomas: Put it on my tab.
Bartender: Kid, I told you twice already, you don’t have a tab!
Michael Thomas: Um… then put it on Xamin’s!
Bartender: You kidding? He’ll kick your (BLEEP)ing ass.
Michael Thomas: {laughs} At least I won’t be thirsty.
Shawn Wright: Don’t worry, I got this.
{Wright pulled out his wallet and opened it up to reveal dozens of bills, most of them seemed to be one dollar bills but still either of us having money was something new and different. I raised an eyebrow curiously, not saying a word and grateful for the drink, as Shawn began to laugh.}
Shawn Wright: I told you dude, I got this wicked ass job right. I met this chick – who was a damn good (BLEEP) by the way if you want her number – and she introduced me to this other chick who runs like this agency or some (BLEEP) that hires like strippers. And damn the money is good, you just dance around for these hot ass babes and shake your thing and they like throw money at you, it’s like growing your own money dude it’s awesome.
Michael Thomas: Wait, {laughs} you’re a stripper?
Shawn Wright: Don’t mock it dude, I need the money and besides it’s damn fun. The chick is looking for more people as well, she’s got like this party on Tuesday or something and she’s all asking me if I got any friends. I could get you an interview if you like; I guess you’re pretty good looking.
Michael Thomas: Thanks but no thanks. Besides, what do you mean you “guess?”
{Frankie, the Bartender, who’d obviously been listening as he rung up our drinks and handed Shawn his change, leant over the bar and nodded his head.}
Bartender: Yep, the money’s great.
Shawn Wright: {confused} How would you know?
Bartender: Hey, I ain’t a bartender all day you know. I like to please the lay-dies!
{I looked at him shocked, scanning him up and down again in amazement as he shook his head angrily at me.}
Michael Thomas: Who the (BLEEP) hires you, the blind?
Bartender: You just don’t appreciate real beauty.
{He walked off to the other side of the bar as Shawn and I started to laugh, heading toward the back and toward the pool table. Just then Frankie came charging around the bar again and pulled us both aside, leaning in so he could say whatever he was about to say quietly.}
Bartender: Whoa, if you guys are planning on scamming my regulars again then don’t, ok? I been getting complaints but I like you kids so you can pull your little games if you want, just not on the regular folks.
Shawn Wright: Got it dude!
{Frankie’s precious regulars, who no doubt came here because they could get more pissed for the same amount of money as anywhere else, were what kept him in business, however recently Shawn and I had been having a damn good time taking their money. The con was simple, Shawn and I would play some pool and I’d lose, then throw a fit that I just lost and demand my money back. He’d of course refuse and claim I was too (BLEEP) to play him so someone either stupid enough or drunk enough would offer to put their money up to me. However, when I say I’d lose I meant I’d throw the game.}
{See, growing up I did pretty much just three things. Went to school, watched wrestling and played pool. My first date was at a snooker club, my first kiss was with a cue in my hand and my first time was on a pool table. When I say I’m good at pool I don’t mean it in an arrogant way, it’s simply a statement of fact. Not good enough to compete for money, don’t get me wrong, but more than good enough to take the money of some unsuspecting drunken fools. And hell, I needed the money! So Shawn and I stood around the table for what must have been an hour just talking and pulling off trick shots as I taught poor Shawn how to get some of the more difficult shots and then a man walked in.}
{He was about six foot, short hair and smart business suit without the tie, which was stuffed in to his pocket, but he fit the definition of a mark perfectly. He looked rich and he was already drunk. One of the other regulars, who we’d conned just last week and who found the whole thing funny as hell, walked up to the bar and positioned the guy perfectly so he could see our little show, getting himself a free drink while he was at it. Surprised at how easily this was turning out Shawn and I put on our little show as the rest of the bar watched and waited, looking on to see if they guy would take the bait. After finishing his second beer and having seen how easily Shawn beat me, the guy stood up and stumbled back to the pool table.}
Drunken Mark: I’ll challenge you kid if ya get the balls.
{I honestly wasn’t sure if he meant I had the guts or if I got the balls out of table so I nodded, setting the table back up again and still complaining that it wasn’t fair how Shawn would take my money like that. He reached in to his wallet, playing with a nice wad of cash before slamming down a hundred dollars on the table. Shawn and I looked at the bill surprised as none of our other marks had been willing to bet nearly as much and we had nowhere near the cash to match it. Shawn called me over, claiming to have gotten me another drink and I excused myself as the guy changed the balls around.}
Shawn Wright: Dude, you think this guy’s a pro?
Michael Thomas: I doubt it, besides he’s so drunk he probably thought that was a twenty.
Shawn Wright: I dunno dude, how the (BLEEP) we gonna match it? I don’t got a hundred bucks, hell I’ll be lucky if I got fifty and you’re broke, right?
{I nodded.}
Shawn Wright: Damn it, a hundred bucks, that’s so (BLEEP)ing close and yet we can’t touch it, this ain’t fair dude. Offer him your car or something…
Michael Thomas: {laughs} I doubt the piece of crap is worth a hundred bucks, besides I’d like to hold on to it. What’s your watch worth?
Shawn Wright: It's garbage dude, it cost like ten bucks. What we gonna do?
{Almost as if on cue the door to the bar swung open and every guy's attention in the place was instantly drawn to it. The woman who walked in was a familiar looking blonde and in the makeup and dress she was wearing she looked a lot older than just eighteen. We’d only been dating a few weeks by this point and I told her this was where she could find me if she wanted to see me tonight, which she obviously did, but at this point our relationship was so new I hadn’t even told Shawn yet, since he had a habit of hitting on every girl I took out bar none.}
Shawn Wright: Damn, she’s fine!
Michael Thomas: {laughs} Knock it off.
Shawn Wright: No way dude, you ain’t having this one for free. I gave you that redhead, didn’t I? This one’s fair game!
Michael Thomas: You mean the redhead who told you to “go to hell, shrimp”?
Shawn Wright: Oh yeah, she wanted me dude and you know it.
{Noelle waved at us both and Shawn nodded really proudly at me.}
Shawn Wright: Damn, girls love me.
Michael Thomas: She’s waving at me moron, that’s Noelle. We’ve been going out a few weeks.
Shawn Wright: Whoa, you serious? You banging that fine piece of ass? Maybe I was wrong about you after all dude, she’s fine! Unlike that last chick you dated, {shudders} damn that s(BLEEP)t was nasty!
{I was half tempted to slap him but Noelle walked up to us both and I kissed her as a hello, to which she blushed. I introduced her to Shawn and he introduced himself as “better in bed than a sybian,” at which point I did slap him. Shawn just grabbed the back of his head angrily, cursing me and promising to kick my ass next time as the mark walked back over to us, poking me in the back a couple of times before I turned around to face him.}
Drunken Mark: You playing me or what kid?
{I nodded and told him to give me just a minute as I looked at Noelle again, not believing I was about to ask this.}
Shawn Wright: You got a hundred bucks?
Noelle Cusick: A hundred? {shakes head} No way...why, you owe this guy money?
Shawn Wright: {laughs} No, but he’s about to owe us!
Michael Thomas: Would you shut the hell up?
{Noelle walked over to him and spoke to him for a moment as Shawn and I desperately tried to overhear what he was saying. He laughed happily, nodding his head enthusiastically as Shawn and I grew even more curious. Finally he reached in to his wallet and slapped down another two bills, both of them hundreds, and Noelle walked back over with a grin.}
Noelle Cusick: You better win!
Shawn Wright: What the hell’d you offer him?
{She smiled innocently as Shawn raised an eyebrow. I swallowed hard, turning around to see this guy was almost foaming at the mouth so I got on with it, breaking and barely missing a pot off the break. He went on a little streak, knocking four in the pockets until luckily the fifth bounced out. He never got another shot after that as I sunk all eight balls with ease and snatched the money off the table with him cursing under his breath, grabbing for his wallet again as I grinned.}
Drunken Mark: I thought you was bad!
Michael Thomas: {shrugs} Beginner’s luck.
Drunken Mark: Double or nothing!
Michael Thomas: Not tonight…
{I grabbed Noelle by the hand and we left the bar as the regulars who’d already fallen for the con, and even those who hadn’t, laughed at the guy and even then he had no idea why. As I left the bar Shawn and I burst out laughing as we split the money between us, a hundred for him and two for me. Before I could even put the money in my pocket though Noelle snatched one of the bills from my hand, looking at it happily.}
Noelle Cusick: What do ya know; I do have a hundred bucks.
Shawn Wright: Whoa, you’re just gonna stand for her stealing your cash?
Michael Thomas: {shrugs} She convinced the guy, I guess she earned it.
Shawn Wright: Yeah, the hell did you offer him anyway?
Noelle Cusick: I kinda… promised to (BLEEP) him if he won.
{Shawn’s eyes went seriously wide, his pupils dilated and if this were a cartoon he’d be howling and panting right about now.}
Shawn Wright: Damn, remind me to play pool with you some time!
Noelle Cusick: I don’t think so.
Michael Thomas: How’d you know we were conning him?
Noelle Cusick: {shrugs} I didn’t.
{She put her arms around me and I put an arm around her, kissing her again as we walked down the street toward nowhere in particular. Wright prodded me and whispered quietly.}
Shawn Wright: Damn dude, it must be love or something...
{Maybe he was right.}
****END SCENE****
January 20, 2006
{We’d been just sitting in the lounge raking through box after box of old crap for hours, deciding what we wanted and what we didn’t want. Of course I kept half of the (BLEEP) I never even knew I still had, including a trophy I’d won back home as an amateur wrestler and some old magazines I’d collected years ago that I’d no doubt never read again. Noelle just laughed as I put more stuff in the keep pile.}
Michael Thomas: What’s so funny?
Noelle Thomas: The amount of crap you’re holding on to, you really want all this stuff?
Michael Thomas: Why not, might find some use for them someday.
Noelle Thomas: {laughs} You’re going to end up as one of those people with pictures, trophies and awards all over the house who talks about the “good old days” aren’t you?
Michael Thomas: Babe, I promise when my time on top of the mountain is over I’ll step aside, until then though I’m staying put and no force on this earth is going to move me.
{She laughs again, pulling an old photo from one of the boxes and smiles.}
Noelle Thomas: You remember this?
{The photo was of the night she’d first met Shawn Wright and I laughed to see the three of us together looking so young and hopeless.}
Michael Thomas: Damn, I still can’t believe you said you’d (BLEEP) that guy.
Noelle Thomas: What? I thought you were in trouble or something and didn’t want you getting hurt. You know I wouldn’t have done it though, right?
Michael Thomas: {laughs} That’s love for you, didn’t want me getting hurt as long as you weren’t there to watch it.
Noelle Thomas: {grins} Yep, that’s pretty much it.
Michael Thomas: Typical, selfless to a degree!
{She laughs again as I get up and head toward my office.}
Noelle Thomas: What, you sulking now because I wouldn’t bang some random guy? Damn!
Michael Thomas: {laughs} Sorry, just thought of something I’ve been wanting to say, for some reason this all reminded me. Won’t take long!
Noelle Thomas: That’s just what every girl wants to hear…
{I laughed again and entered my office, sitting back in my chair and kicking my feet up on the desk as I flicked on the mini-cam.}
MANIAC: Here we are, two short nights away from Joker’s Wild. Evan Cartwright is pulling the tired old Rocky routine that I got sick and tired of eleven years ago…and really all he’s saying is that he’s got a fighter’s chance this Monday night. He thinks he’s gonna knock me out with a lucky punch…his big shot right hook. Hell, I won’t sit here and act like it’s not a factor, because quite honestly I’ve felt it before and it’s not a whole lot of fun when you’re on the receiving end. But if he thinks he’s gonna pin me with a punch, he obviously has no clue who I am.
See, I’m a guy that Headhuntered Jimmy Blast off the top of a fifteen foot high steel cage, broke my tail bone on the fall, and still rolled over to pin him to win the title. I’m a guy who’s been thrown off a scaffold through six thick tables, been elbow dropped from the same height, and still kicked out. You think a punch is gonna keep me down?
You talk about heart, and how you’ve got so much more of it than I do. If that’s the case, why are you dicking around in some regional organization, and not out on the global circuit making a name for yourself? See, I’ve been there, done that…I’m here for fun, and to help put Canadian wrestling back on the map. I’m set for life, I’ve got mansions in Toronto, New York, Los Angeles, London, and Vancouver. I’ve got cottages and condos in Banff, Calgary, Dallas, Paris, Milan, and Miami. I’ve got enough money to put a family of thirty through University five or six times over. I don’t need to be here, I’m here because I love to wrestle and I wanted to help breed the next generation of superstars. Hell, look at yourself…ever since you set foot in the ring with me you’ve been a different man, a better athlete…you now have a fire in your eyes that you didn’t have before I arrived on the scene, little man. Just like I told you, whoever steps foot in the ring with me comes out a better man, a better wrestler, because they’ve been in the ring with the champion of champions.
[He smirks, looking around his office at all the awards and old photographs hanging on the walls.]
MANIAC: A lot of people love me…even more people hate me. But one thing is for damn sure…no one will ever forget me. I’ve solidified my place in the history books. I’ve been to the top of the mountain more times than most men dare to even dream of. Yet you question my heart? How many times have you, Evan Cartwright, been to the top of the mountain? All I’ve seen you do up until I showed up, is ride the Rat Pack’s coat tails because you can’t hack it on your own. Me? I don’t need a group of hyenas backing me up. I have confidence in my own ability to get the job done. Don’t kid yourself…when the chips are down I do what it takes to win. You’ll never hear the words “I quit” come out of this mouth. You’ll never see me lay down and get pinned unless there was some kind of bulls(BLEEP)t circumstances surrounding it like last week, or unless my opponent absolutely climbed the mountain, slayed the dragon and lived to tell the tale. You’ve proven time and time again that you don’t have it in you to do that. Terry Brandon has bailed you out twice in as many weeks. That’s pathetic.
Terry Brandon can’t save your sorry ass at Joker’s Wild…because on Monday night, I’m not holding back. I’m not cutting you any kind of slack, I’m not going easy on you, I’m taking you one hundred percent seriously, my friend. I’m treating this match as if it’s for the most prestigious championship in the world. The past two weeks I haven’t even given you the time of day, much less given a damn about preparing for you. I’ve still dominated you.
[He pulls a stack of video tapes out from under his desk and slams them down in front of the camera.]
MANIAC: What we have here is footage from every single match you’ve ever wrestled, from your first match right up until last week. I know you inside and out. I know what you’re gonna do before even you do. You go to throw that right hook, and I’ll grab your arm and tear your ligaments apart with a cross face. You throw the left hook and I’ll break your arm with a chicken wing. The fact of the matter is this…I am always one step ahead, and rest assured, Evan…Joker’s Wild won’t be Monday Night Fights. Joker’s Wild will be the longest and most tedious match of your life. You will learn first hand exactly who the hell I am…and once again, if you survive it that is, you will come out of it a better man, a better wrestler, an even hotter fire burning in the depths of your soul. You’ll never be the same again.
You bring your fighter’s chance…and you’ll find out real quick that it’s nothing more than a day dream. Because you need more than a fighter’s chance when you’re in the ring with the Lord of the Ring, the King of Kings, the most unpredictable son of a bitch in the game…
And you, nor anyone else, will EVER forget it.
{I flick the camera off again, sitting back happily envisioning my win at Joker's Wild as I spin in the chair and jump to my feet, leaving the room with confidence in my steps. Noelle gets up as she sees me coming.}
Noelle Thomas: Done?
Michael Thomas: Am for now, you know I love when they make it easy.
Noelle Thomas: {surprised} Evan Cartwright made it easy?
Michael Thomas: C’mon, he’s hardly a verbal mastermind, is he? I’ve beaten every punk they've thrown at me, and I’m supposed to fear Evan Cartwright or anyone else for that matter?
Noelle Thomas: Sweetie I know who you beat, I was there, remember?
Michael Thomas: {grins} Sorry.
Noelle Thomas: You really wanted me to sleep with the guy if you lost?
Michael Thomas: {laughs} We still talking about this?
Noelle Thomas: I’m just surprised is all, I never thought you thought of me that way.
Michael Thomas: {confused} What way?
Noelle Thomas: The whole slut-image every single guy on the roster tries to pretend I have simply because they dream about it every night, I just never thought you were one of them, but maybe I was wrong.
{She walked off upset as I looked around in amazement, really surprised this would hurt her feelings that much. I ran off after her, determined to make amends and tell her I didn’t mean it…}
{Scene fades to black.}
October 28th, 1995 – 7:04pm
{Memories can be a funny thing. Why is it that there are moments in life you remember with crystal clear clarity, moments that in the long run don’t really account for much at all, but there are times when you can’t remember something that you know you know when it really matters? Have you ever walked in to a room and forgotten why you entered, picked up the phone and forgotten the number you wanted to dial or been asked a question and couldn’t quite think of the right answer? Yet despite all that you can remember your first day at school, remember the name of some bully who used to pick on you or remember the name of the first person you kissed. It’s seemingly unimportant memories that build us into the people we are, that help mould us in to the people we should become, and without those memories we could be entirely different people.}
{The nicest people on the planet who get amnesia can turn in to the worst types of people, depending on what memories they build once they recover. Contrastly, the nastiest of serial killers could turn in to the nicest guy in the world if positive memories are built where none exist. What memories do you hold close to you, which to you remember that help build you in to the person you are today? I’ve got a lot of memories that have helped change my life, many I hold dear to my heart, but there’s a few that sent me down the wrong path. There was one in particular I remember incredibly well; although which way it sent my life is something I’m still unsure of. It was back in October of 1995, just one day after my twenty-first birthday and Shawn and I desperately needed an escape.}
{We’d spent the whole day in Mark Xamin’s basement going over the basics of the business for the fiftieth time and while we were both so overconfident that we knew everything, Xamin insisted that we still had a long way to go. The long hours of training and lack of income however had made us both ridiculously broke so when I entered Frankie’s that night so long ago it was without a penny in my pocket. As I walked up to the bar Frankie walked up to us and laughed.}
Bartender: You kids back again? Hasn’t Xamin beaten the hell out of you yet?
Shawn Wright: More than you know dude, more than you know. But can we get some drinks already, I’m (BLEEP)ing thirsty.
Bartender: What’ll it be, kids?
{It amazes me how little Frankie has changed over the years, still with the scruffy haircut, the scraggly beard and the beer belly he wore with pride, hanging out over the top of his pants and with a t-shirt just to small to cover it all over the top. Still, his bar was cheap and his drinks were good so we kept coming back, despite the fact all the regulars were drunken fools – then again that pretty much fits the definition of anyone you can label a “regular” to a bar, does it not?}
Shawn Wright: I’ll get a vodka martini, {Scottish accent} shaken not stirred. {defensively} What? I always wanted to say that.
Michael Thomas: I’ll just get a coke.
{Frankie got the two drinks, shaking Nick’s drink right in front of his face to prove a point, and served them up before holding his hand out for the money. I kind of looked at him and shrugged, trying to sound like a “regular”.}
Michael Thomas: Put it on my tab.
Bartender: Kid, I told you twice already, you don’t have a tab!
Michael Thomas: Um… then put it on Xamin’s!
Bartender: You kidding? He’ll kick your (BLEEP)ing ass.
Michael Thomas: {laughs} At least I won’t be thirsty.
Shawn Wright: Don’t worry, I got this.
{Wright pulled out his wallet and opened it up to reveal dozens of bills, most of them seemed to be one dollar bills but still either of us having money was something new and different. I raised an eyebrow curiously, not saying a word and grateful for the drink, as Shawn began to laugh.}
Shawn Wright: I told you dude, I got this wicked ass job right. I met this chick – who was a damn good (BLEEP) by the way if you want her number – and she introduced me to this other chick who runs like this agency or some (BLEEP) that hires like strippers. And damn the money is good, you just dance around for these hot ass babes and shake your thing and they like throw money at you, it’s like growing your own money dude it’s awesome.
Michael Thomas: Wait, {laughs} you’re a stripper?
Shawn Wright: Don’t mock it dude, I need the money and besides it’s damn fun. The chick is looking for more people as well, she’s got like this party on Tuesday or something and she’s all asking me if I got any friends. I could get you an interview if you like; I guess you’re pretty good looking.
Michael Thomas: Thanks but no thanks. Besides, what do you mean you “guess?”
{Frankie, the Bartender, who’d obviously been listening as he rung up our drinks and handed Shawn his change, leant over the bar and nodded his head.}
Bartender: Yep, the money’s great.
Shawn Wright: {confused} How would you know?
Bartender: Hey, I ain’t a bartender all day you know. I like to please the lay-dies!
{I looked at him shocked, scanning him up and down again in amazement as he shook his head angrily at me.}
Michael Thomas: Who the (BLEEP) hires you, the blind?
Bartender: You just don’t appreciate real beauty.
{He walked off to the other side of the bar as Shawn and I started to laugh, heading toward the back and toward the pool table. Just then Frankie came charging around the bar again and pulled us both aside, leaning in so he could say whatever he was about to say quietly.}
Bartender: Whoa, if you guys are planning on scamming my regulars again then don’t, ok? I been getting complaints but I like you kids so you can pull your little games if you want, just not on the regular folks.
Shawn Wright: Got it dude!
{Frankie’s precious regulars, who no doubt came here because they could get more pissed for the same amount of money as anywhere else, were what kept him in business, however recently Shawn and I had been having a damn good time taking their money. The con was simple, Shawn and I would play some pool and I’d lose, then throw a fit that I just lost and demand my money back. He’d of course refuse and claim I was too (BLEEP) to play him so someone either stupid enough or drunk enough would offer to put their money up to me. However, when I say I’d lose I meant I’d throw the game.}
{See, growing up I did pretty much just three things. Went to school, watched wrestling and played pool. My first date was at a snooker club, my first kiss was with a cue in my hand and my first time was on a pool table. When I say I’m good at pool I don’t mean it in an arrogant way, it’s simply a statement of fact. Not good enough to compete for money, don’t get me wrong, but more than good enough to take the money of some unsuspecting drunken fools. And hell, I needed the money! So Shawn and I stood around the table for what must have been an hour just talking and pulling off trick shots as I taught poor Shawn how to get some of the more difficult shots and then a man walked in.}
{He was about six foot, short hair and smart business suit without the tie, which was stuffed in to his pocket, but he fit the definition of a mark perfectly. He looked rich and he was already drunk. One of the other regulars, who we’d conned just last week and who found the whole thing funny as hell, walked up to the bar and positioned the guy perfectly so he could see our little show, getting himself a free drink while he was at it. Surprised at how easily this was turning out Shawn and I put on our little show as the rest of the bar watched and waited, looking on to see if they guy would take the bait. After finishing his second beer and having seen how easily Shawn beat me, the guy stood up and stumbled back to the pool table.}
Drunken Mark: I’ll challenge you kid if ya get the balls.
{I honestly wasn’t sure if he meant I had the guts or if I got the balls out of table so I nodded, setting the table back up again and still complaining that it wasn’t fair how Shawn would take my money like that. He reached in to his wallet, playing with a nice wad of cash before slamming down a hundred dollars on the table. Shawn and I looked at the bill surprised as none of our other marks had been willing to bet nearly as much and we had nowhere near the cash to match it. Shawn called me over, claiming to have gotten me another drink and I excused myself as the guy changed the balls around.}
Shawn Wright: Dude, you think this guy’s a pro?
Michael Thomas: I doubt it, besides he’s so drunk he probably thought that was a twenty.
Shawn Wright: I dunno dude, how the (BLEEP) we gonna match it? I don’t got a hundred bucks, hell I’ll be lucky if I got fifty and you’re broke, right?
{I nodded.}
Shawn Wright: Damn it, a hundred bucks, that’s so (BLEEP)ing close and yet we can’t touch it, this ain’t fair dude. Offer him your car or something…
Michael Thomas: {laughs} I doubt the piece of crap is worth a hundred bucks, besides I’d like to hold on to it. What’s your watch worth?
Shawn Wright: It's garbage dude, it cost like ten bucks. What we gonna do?
{Almost as if on cue the door to the bar swung open and every guy's attention in the place was instantly drawn to it. The woman who walked in was a familiar looking blonde and in the makeup and dress she was wearing she looked a lot older than just eighteen. We’d only been dating a few weeks by this point and I told her this was where she could find me if she wanted to see me tonight, which she obviously did, but at this point our relationship was so new I hadn’t even told Shawn yet, since he had a habit of hitting on every girl I took out bar none.}
Shawn Wright: Damn, she’s fine!
Michael Thomas: {laughs} Knock it off.
Shawn Wright: No way dude, you ain’t having this one for free. I gave you that redhead, didn’t I? This one’s fair game!
Michael Thomas: You mean the redhead who told you to “go to hell, shrimp”?
Shawn Wright: Oh yeah, she wanted me dude and you know it.
{Noelle waved at us both and Shawn nodded really proudly at me.}
Shawn Wright: Damn, girls love me.
Michael Thomas: She’s waving at me moron, that’s Noelle. We’ve been going out a few weeks.
Shawn Wright: Whoa, you serious? You banging that fine piece of ass? Maybe I was wrong about you after all dude, she’s fine! Unlike that last chick you dated, {shudders} damn that s(BLEEP)t was nasty!
{I was half tempted to slap him but Noelle walked up to us both and I kissed her as a hello, to which she blushed. I introduced her to Shawn and he introduced himself as “better in bed than a sybian,” at which point I did slap him. Shawn just grabbed the back of his head angrily, cursing me and promising to kick my ass next time as the mark walked back over to us, poking me in the back a couple of times before I turned around to face him.}
Drunken Mark: You playing me or what kid?
{I nodded and told him to give me just a minute as I looked at Noelle again, not believing I was about to ask this.}
Shawn Wright: You got a hundred bucks?
Noelle Cusick: A hundred? {shakes head} No way...why, you owe this guy money?
Shawn Wright: {laughs} No, but he’s about to owe us!
Michael Thomas: Would you shut the hell up?
{Noelle walked over to him and spoke to him for a moment as Shawn and I desperately tried to overhear what he was saying. He laughed happily, nodding his head enthusiastically as Shawn and I grew even more curious. Finally he reached in to his wallet and slapped down another two bills, both of them hundreds, and Noelle walked back over with a grin.}
Noelle Cusick: You better win!
Shawn Wright: What the hell’d you offer him?
{She smiled innocently as Shawn raised an eyebrow. I swallowed hard, turning around to see this guy was almost foaming at the mouth so I got on with it, breaking and barely missing a pot off the break. He went on a little streak, knocking four in the pockets until luckily the fifth bounced out. He never got another shot after that as I sunk all eight balls with ease and snatched the money off the table with him cursing under his breath, grabbing for his wallet again as I grinned.}
Drunken Mark: I thought you was bad!
Michael Thomas: {shrugs} Beginner’s luck.
Drunken Mark: Double or nothing!
Michael Thomas: Not tonight…
{I grabbed Noelle by the hand and we left the bar as the regulars who’d already fallen for the con, and even those who hadn’t, laughed at the guy and even then he had no idea why. As I left the bar Shawn and I burst out laughing as we split the money between us, a hundred for him and two for me. Before I could even put the money in my pocket though Noelle snatched one of the bills from my hand, looking at it happily.}
Noelle Cusick: What do ya know; I do have a hundred bucks.
Shawn Wright: Whoa, you’re just gonna stand for her stealing your cash?
Michael Thomas: {shrugs} She convinced the guy, I guess she earned it.
Shawn Wright: Yeah, the hell did you offer him anyway?
Noelle Cusick: I kinda… promised to (BLEEP) him if he won.
{Shawn’s eyes went seriously wide, his pupils dilated and if this were a cartoon he’d be howling and panting right about now.}
Shawn Wright: Damn, remind me to play pool with you some time!
Noelle Cusick: I don’t think so.
Michael Thomas: How’d you know we were conning him?
Noelle Cusick: {shrugs} I didn’t.
{She put her arms around me and I put an arm around her, kissing her again as we walked down the street toward nowhere in particular. Wright prodded me and whispered quietly.}
Shawn Wright: Damn dude, it must be love or something...
{Maybe he was right.}
****END SCENE****
January 20, 2006
{We’d been just sitting in the lounge raking through box after box of old crap for hours, deciding what we wanted and what we didn’t want. Of course I kept half of the (BLEEP) I never even knew I still had, including a trophy I’d won back home as an amateur wrestler and some old magazines I’d collected years ago that I’d no doubt never read again. Noelle just laughed as I put more stuff in the keep pile.}
Michael Thomas: What’s so funny?
Noelle Thomas: The amount of crap you’re holding on to, you really want all this stuff?
Michael Thomas: Why not, might find some use for them someday.
Noelle Thomas: {laughs} You’re going to end up as one of those people with pictures, trophies and awards all over the house who talks about the “good old days” aren’t you?
Michael Thomas: Babe, I promise when my time on top of the mountain is over I’ll step aside, until then though I’m staying put and no force on this earth is going to move me.
{She laughs again, pulling an old photo from one of the boxes and smiles.}
Noelle Thomas: You remember this?
{The photo was of the night she’d first met Shawn Wright and I laughed to see the three of us together looking so young and hopeless.}
Michael Thomas: Damn, I still can’t believe you said you’d (BLEEP) that guy.
Noelle Thomas: What? I thought you were in trouble or something and didn’t want you getting hurt. You know I wouldn’t have done it though, right?
Michael Thomas: {laughs} That’s love for you, didn’t want me getting hurt as long as you weren’t there to watch it.
Noelle Thomas: {grins} Yep, that’s pretty much it.
Michael Thomas: Typical, selfless to a degree!
{She laughs again as I get up and head toward my office.}
Noelle Thomas: What, you sulking now because I wouldn’t bang some random guy? Damn!
Michael Thomas: {laughs} Sorry, just thought of something I’ve been wanting to say, for some reason this all reminded me. Won’t take long!
Noelle Thomas: That’s just what every girl wants to hear…
{I laughed again and entered my office, sitting back in my chair and kicking my feet up on the desk as I flicked on the mini-cam.}
MANIAC: Here we are, two short nights away from Joker’s Wild. Evan Cartwright is pulling the tired old Rocky routine that I got sick and tired of eleven years ago…and really all he’s saying is that he’s got a fighter’s chance this Monday night. He thinks he’s gonna knock me out with a lucky punch…his big shot right hook. Hell, I won’t sit here and act like it’s not a factor, because quite honestly I’ve felt it before and it’s not a whole lot of fun when you’re on the receiving end. But if he thinks he’s gonna pin me with a punch, he obviously has no clue who I am.
See, I’m a guy that Headhuntered Jimmy Blast off the top of a fifteen foot high steel cage, broke my tail bone on the fall, and still rolled over to pin him to win the title. I’m a guy who’s been thrown off a scaffold through six thick tables, been elbow dropped from the same height, and still kicked out. You think a punch is gonna keep me down?
You talk about heart, and how you’ve got so much more of it than I do. If that’s the case, why are you dicking around in some regional organization, and not out on the global circuit making a name for yourself? See, I’ve been there, done that…I’m here for fun, and to help put Canadian wrestling back on the map. I’m set for life, I’ve got mansions in Toronto, New York, Los Angeles, London, and Vancouver. I’ve got cottages and condos in Banff, Calgary, Dallas, Paris, Milan, and Miami. I’ve got enough money to put a family of thirty through University five or six times over. I don’t need to be here, I’m here because I love to wrestle and I wanted to help breed the next generation of superstars. Hell, look at yourself…ever since you set foot in the ring with me you’ve been a different man, a better athlete…you now have a fire in your eyes that you didn’t have before I arrived on the scene, little man. Just like I told you, whoever steps foot in the ring with me comes out a better man, a better wrestler, because they’ve been in the ring with the champion of champions.
[He smirks, looking around his office at all the awards and old photographs hanging on the walls.]
MANIAC: A lot of people love me…even more people hate me. But one thing is for damn sure…no one will ever forget me. I’ve solidified my place in the history books. I’ve been to the top of the mountain more times than most men dare to even dream of. Yet you question my heart? How many times have you, Evan Cartwright, been to the top of the mountain? All I’ve seen you do up until I showed up, is ride the Rat Pack’s coat tails because you can’t hack it on your own. Me? I don’t need a group of hyenas backing me up. I have confidence in my own ability to get the job done. Don’t kid yourself…when the chips are down I do what it takes to win. You’ll never hear the words “I quit” come out of this mouth. You’ll never see me lay down and get pinned unless there was some kind of bulls(BLEEP)t circumstances surrounding it like last week, or unless my opponent absolutely climbed the mountain, slayed the dragon and lived to tell the tale. You’ve proven time and time again that you don’t have it in you to do that. Terry Brandon has bailed you out twice in as many weeks. That’s pathetic.
Terry Brandon can’t save your sorry ass at Joker’s Wild…because on Monday night, I’m not holding back. I’m not cutting you any kind of slack, I’m not going easy on you, I’m taking you one hundred percent seriously, my friend. I’m treating this match as if it’s for the most prestigious championship in the world. The past two weeks I haven’t even given you the time of day, much less given a damn about preparing for you. I’ve still dominated you.
[He pulls a stack of video tapes out from under his desk and slams them down in front of the camera.]
MANIAC: What we have here is footage from every single match you’ve ever wrestled, from your first match right up until last week. I know you inside and out. I know what you’re gonna do before even you do. You go to throw that right hook, and I’ll grab your arm and tear your ligaments apart with a cross face. You throw the left hook and I’ll break your arm with a chicken wing. The fact of the matter is this…I am always one step ahead, and rest assured, Evan…Joker’s Wild won’t be Monday Night Fights. Joker’s Wild will be the longest and most tedious match of your life. You will learn first hand exactly who the hell I am…and once again, if you survive it that is, you will come out of it a better man, a better wrestler, an even hotter fire burning in the depths of your soul. You’ll never be the same again.
You bring your fighter’s chance…and you’ll find out real quick that it’s nothing more than a day dream. Because you need more than a fighter’s chance when you’re in the ring with the Lord of the Ring, the King of Kings, the most unpredictable son of a bitch in the game…
And you, nor anyone else, will EVER forget it.
{I flick the camera off again, sitting back happily envisioning my win at Joker's Wild as I spin in the chair and jump to my feet, leaving the room with confidence in my steps. Noelle gets up as she sees me coming.}
Noelle Thomas: Done?
Michael Thomas: Am for now, you know I love when they make it easy.
Noelle Thomas: {surprised} Evan Cartwright made it easy?
Michael Thomas: C’mon, he’s hardly a verbal mastermind, is he? I’ve beaten every punk they've thrown at me, and I’m supposed to fear Evan Cartwright or anyone else for that matter?
Noelle Thomas: Sweetie I know who you beat, I was there, remember?
Michael Thomas: {grins} Sorry.
Noelle Thomas: You really wanted me to sleep with the guy if you lost?
Michael Thomas: {laughs} We still talking about this?
Noelle Thomas: I’m just surprised is all, I never thought you thought of me that way.
Michael Thomas: {confused} What way?
Noelle Thomas: The whole slut-image every single guy on the roster tries to pretend I have simply because they dream about it every night, I just never thought you were one of them, but maybe I was wrong.
{She walked off upset as I looked around in amazement, really surprised this would hurt her feelings that much. I ran off after her, determined to make amends and tell her I didn’t mean it…}
{Scene fades to black.}