Post by D! on Feb 4, 2006 3:47:10 GMT -5
(Lights up--what there are of them. We are in a dark expanse of woodland in the dead of night, with all illumination either coming from moonlight, or by some other source of soft lights coming from off-frame. With the sound of foot-falls breaking through a thin layer of snow that's landed, softened, and then hardened again, the figure of D! steps into frame. The brightest parts of him are his green knit toque, and the light reflecting off of his ubiquitous NAPW Title. He stops center frame, and sighs.)
D!: Where are we, you might ask, and where are we going with this?
(An alarm-like cry fills the air, a series of regular tones that stop just as suddenly.)
(Unfazed.) Welcome to my temple, one and all. The most amazing spot on earth. My place of spiritual healing. A place of raw beauty and nature. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you . . . the river valley.
(The camera turns and spies, through an opening of trees, the sprawl of the North Saskatchewan River, half-covered in ice, and the seemingly incongruous downtown Edmonton sky-line spotted with irregular points of white and red light. The camera turns back to D!)
But for tonight, it's my River Valley. And you're all welcome to stay.
Now, if it's so darned personal and secret, you ask, why drag a camera along? Surely I'd have learned my lesson with all of this Casino / Maja drama? Surely after I've managed to put the worst month of my life behind me, I'd have figured out enough to keep my personal life under wraps?
(Sighs.) Yes. And no. I mean, after only three months of wrestling--Psst! And eight weeks of holding the NAPW Title--I've learned yet another valuable lesson about the business. Keep other people out of it. Maniac's been in this business eleven years and he's just started to figure that out. Ravager, as it turns out, has already done so. But yours truly? Had to learn it the hard way. Through the grief and suffering of people that didn't deserve it.
(Pause. D! tilts his head, and his face is momentarily covered up by the darker shadows of a tree branch.)
The Maja Hernandez Foundation is just getting off the ground, in case you were wondering. But let's get back on track.
When it comes to personal secrets, well, everyone in my life is now going to be a closed book. And now, more than ever, I work alone. But if you think I don't have anything more I can give up, no further shred of my soul I can't surrender, well, peanut, you clearly don't know me.
I mean, think about it. Why do we do it? Why do we let you into our lives? Why must you know about Kyle and Amy's relationship problems? Why would you be called upon to know about Jack Trapier and Lisa Hordem if they've never been in the NAPW ring? Or the horrible conditions of Mirage's traning camp? Or Moose's "episode"? Or Ravager's bastard of a father? Or the good people in my life? No, seriously, why would we open up our lives and put our souls on display?
To illustrate a point? To make you believe we're the better wrestler? We can do that in the ring. If we want to talk to you, we can grab a microphone there, too. I mean, it's crazy, it's masochistic, and I've got no business to speak for anyone else. But the whole "don't know the camera's there" gag? NAPW may use digital hand-helds, and those puppies are sleek, let me tell you, but camera guys like Dean, here, ain't.
DEAN: (Off-camera.) Heyyy!
D!: Thanks, Dean, that illustrates my point. We are conscious and complicit in these acts. And I don't know the "why" for everybody. Some of us are attention whores. Some of us may be doing it begrudgingly. Me? (Stares off, in thought.) I always thought anybody who became Champion has to make a concession for his fans. To have no secrets, to tell no lies.
(The atonal cry fills the air again.)
Saw-whet owl. Tiny thing, maybe the size of a puppy. Lives in old woodpecker holes, too. Makes a big noise for its size, and most people think it's a man-made siren at first. But no.
I know about the owl living here, and back up there by the University houses, there's an albino magpie.
Now, in reality? I'm not a bird nut and my knowledge of ornithology can pretty much be summed up with what I just told you.
But I've lived here way longer than three months. And when it's your neighbourhood, you learn about it. You piece things together. When you visit the valley as often as I do, you get curious about it.
(Deep breath. D! walks a bit further, up to the river / skyline view.)
Hmm. Cartwright had to find this river in order to see what kind of city we had. I wonder what he found.
Anyways. It seems that some stuff about Ravager and his past are making the rounds. About how he just happened to move across the alley from me three months ago. About how, yes, he does have a family--and he'll go to an insane length to protect them. So, once again, why? Why let this info finally rise to the top? Why tempt me--and you--with these tidbits, when let's face it, he could have kept sharking me for all that I care. Why? Why, Ravager, Why?
He's always bitched about me in some form or another . . . how being around me kills his spotlight or how I nurse injuries and steal his well-deserved title shots. And now, now that he finally has a shot at the NAPW Title . . . he's really concerned about you, me and Dean knowing about his human side.
I ask again. WHY?
Is this your messed-up way of trying to be my friend?
(He takes the NAPW Title off of his shoulder, and holds it by his hip.)
Well, Lunatic, if it's true, then congratulations, I had no idea who the "true Ravager" was. Heading into our match I'll be pleased to also find out that Bill Fleming tried to molest you and that when you tried to chokeslam me off of a building you were just brushing food crumbs off of my jacket.
(With a somewhat familiar smirk.) Too bad you can't beat me with your private life, huh?
I think you could be telling the truth. I think you could be lying. You've lied to me before, why not again? I mean, wow, you used a lie within a lie to outsmart Misery. But I ask, why stop there? As far as I know, you could be revealing another fabrication, and maybe there's some more B.S. after that. Maybe you've got them all lined up, one within the next, like a Russian Doll. And it makes for great soap opera.
(Holding up the Title defiantly.) But it doesn't make you champ.
Up yours, Ravager. I tell you everything I had to do to get back to Joker's Wild, my little odyssey, and all of a sudden, look who's got an origin story. My pain had a point. You're just filling time between catching another movie at the mall.
I have told you, Casino, Plague, everybody, just what holding this title means to me. It means I'm the Best. Damn. Singles wrestler in this company. It means nothing more. It means nothing less. And if you beat me, you'll be the one with that distinction, and I'll accept it. Yeah! You're good! You're great! Hell, you're even getting killer buzz on the Internet! And I'll say what I believe: that you've belonged in the NAPW Title division since the start!
But you won't earn that distinction on Monday. I'll do everything in my power to put you down clean. When your guard is down, I will Barrage you for as long as it takes. I'll use (snaps) this much of an opening to do it, too.
Now stop buying movie tickets, get your head in the game, and show up on time.
(He shoulders the belt and turns his focus, once more, to the river, and follows it with his head to the black, skeletal structure of the High Level Bridge.)
Let's turn that camera off.
(Pause. He turns around and stares directly at us.)
I've got nothing else to reveal tonight. Goodnight. Camera off.
(Lights down.)
D!: Where are we, you might ask, and where are we going with this?
(An alarm-like cry fills the air, a series of regular tones that stop just as suddenly.)
(Unfazed.) Welcome to my temple, one and all. The most amazing spot on earth. My place of spiritual healing. A place of raw beauty and nature. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you . . . the river valley.
(The camera turns and spies, through an opening of trees, the sprawl of the North Saskatchewan River, half-covered in ice, and the seemingly incongruous downtown Edmonton sky-line spotted with irregular points of white and red light. The camera turns back to D!)
But for tonight, it's my River Valley. And you're all welcome to stay.
Now, if it's so darned personal and secret, you ask, why drag a camera along? Surely I'd have learned my lesson with all of this Casino / Maja drama? Surely after I've managed to put the worst month of my life behind me, I'd have figured out enough to keep my personal life under wraps?
(Sighs.) Yes. And no. I mean, after only three months of wrestling--Psst! And eight weeks of holding the NAPW Title--I've learned yet another valuable lesson about the business. Keep other people out of it. Maniac's been in this business eleven years and he's just started to figure that out. Ravager, as it turns out, has already done so. But yours truly? Had to learn it the hard way. Through the grief and suffering of people that didn't deserve it.
(Pause. D! tilts his head, and his face is momentarily covered up by the darker shadows of a tree branch.)
The Maja Hernandez Foundation is just getting off the ground, in case you were wondering. But let's get back on track.
When it comes to personal secrets, well, everyone in my life is now going to be a closed book. And now, more than ever, I work alone. But if you think I don't have anything more I can give up, no further shred of my soul I can't surrender, well, peanut, you clearly don't know me.
I mean, think about it. Why do we do it? Why do we let you into our lives? Why must you know about Kyle and Amy's relationship problems? Why would you be called upon to know about Jack Trapier and Lisa Hordem if they've never been in the NAPW ring? Or the horrible conditions of Mirage's traning camp? Or Moose's "episode"? Or Ravager's bastard of a father? Or the good people in my life? No, seriously, why would we open up our lives and put our souls on display?
To illustrate a point? To make you believe we're the better wrestler? We can do that in the ring. If we want to talk to you, we can grab a microphone there, too. I mean, it's crazy, it's masochistic, and I've got no business to speak for anyone else. But the whole "don't know the camera's there" gag? NAPW may use digital hand-helds, and those puppies are sleek, let me tell you, but camera guys like Dean, here, ain't.
DEAN: (Off-camera.) Heyyy!
D!: Thanks, Dean, that illustrates my point. We are conscious and complicit in these acts. And I don't know the "why" for everybody. Some of us are attention whores. Some of us may be doing it begrudgingly. Me? (Stares off, in thought.) I always thought anybody who became Champion has to make a concession for his fans. To have no secrets, to tell no lies.
(The atonal cry fills the air again.)
Saw-whet owl. Tiny thing, maybe the size of a puppy. Lives in old woodpecker holes, too. Makes a big noise for its size, and most people think it's a man-made siren at first. But no.
I know about the owl living here, and back up there by the University houses, there's an albino magpie.
Now, in reality? I'm not a bird nut and my knowledge of ornithology can pretty much be summed up with what I just told you.
But I've lived here way longer than three months. And when it's your neighbourhood, you learn about it. You piece things together. When you visit the valley as often as I do, you get curious about it.
(Deep breath. D! walks a bit further, up to the river / skyline view.)
Hmm. Cartwright had to find this river in order to see what kind of city we had. I wonder what he found.
Anyways. It seems that some stuff about Ravager and his past are making the rounds. About how he just happened to move across the alley from me three months ago. About how, yes, he does have a family--and he'll go to an insane length to protect them. So, once again, why? Why let this info finally rise to the top? Why tempt me--and you--with these tidbits, when let's face it, he could have kept sharking me for all that I care. Why? Why, Ravager, Why?
He's always bitched about me in some form or another . . . how being around me kills his spotlight or how I nurse injuries and steal his well-deserved title shots. And now, now that he finally has a shot at the NAPW Title . . . he's really concerned about you, me and Dean knowing about his human side.
I ask again. WHY?
Is this your messed-up way of trying to be my friend?
(He takes the NAPW Title off of his shoulder, and holds it by his hip.)
Well, Lunatic, if it's true, then congratulations, I had no idea who the "true Ravager" was. Heading into our match I'll be pleased to also find out that Bill Fleming tried to molest you and that when you tried to chokeslam me off of a building you were just brushing food crumbs off of my jacket.
(With a somewhat familiar smirk.) Too bad you can't beat me with your private life, huh?
I think you could be telling the truth. I think you could be lying. You've lied to me before, why not again? I mean, wow, you used a lie within a lie to outsmart Misery. But I ask, why stop there? As far as I know, you could be revealing another fabrication, and maybe there's some more B.S. after that. Maybe you've got them all lined up, one within the next, like a Russian Doll. And it makes for great soap opera.
(Holding up the Title defiantly.) But it doesn't make you champ.
Up yours, Ravager. I tell you everything I had to do to get back to Joker's Wild, my little odyssey, and all of a sudden, look who's got an origin story. My pain had a point. You're just filling time between catching another movie at the mall.
I have told you, Casino, Plague, everybody, just what holding this title means to me. It means I'm the Best. Damn. Singles wrestler in this company. It means nothing more. It means nothing less. And if you beat me, you'll be the one with that distinction, and I'll accept it. Yeah! You're good! You're great! Hell, you're even getting killer buzz on the Internet! And I'll say what I believe: that you've belonged in the NAPW Title division since the start!
But you won't earn that distinction on Monday. I'll do everything in my power to put you down clean. When your guard is down, I will Barrage you for as long as it takes. I'll use (snaps) this much of an opening to do it, too.
Now stop buying movie tickets, get your head in the game, and show up on time.
(He shoulders the belt and turns his focus, once more, to the river, and follows it with his head to the black, skeletal structure of the High Level Bridge.)
Let's turn that camera off.
(Pause. He turns around and stares directly at us.)
I've got nothing else to reveal tonight. Goodnight. Camera off.
(Lights down.)