July 11th 2013 8:50 pm
[The camera fades in to a dimly lit restaurant. A soft piano is playing in the distance as the patrons enjoy a quiet dinner on this warm Las Vegas evening. The walls of the restaurant are covered by what seems to be exposed dark gray brick, but as you look closer you can see it’s just a plastic façade. Large, burning candle sconces are fastened to the walls every four feet or so to help sell the castle feel the restaurant seems to be going for. The camera pans around the large dining room focusing on different patrons. An older couple sitting against the back wall, celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary, shares a champagne toast together. A young lesbian couple seems to be having an argument as they go back and forth but try desperately to keep their body language and voice levels down.
The camera comes to a halt on a small table in the center of the dining room. A young woman with strawberry blonde hair, wearing a bright lime green dress with a floral print on it and matching heels, sits across from her date. A good looking young man with dark hair in a makeshift faux-hawk, stubble on his cheeks and chin, and bright green eyes. He is wearing a dark blue blazer, a white and blue pinstriped shirt with an open collar, blue jeans and white Puma sneaker. He is Drake Green and he is on his date the waitress with the southern drawl, April.]
April: So that’s when my Daddy upped and moved us to Nevada. Right when the cattle ranch was opened.
Drake: And where are you from exactly?
April: Texarkana. The Texas.
Drake: I didn’t know there was any other side.
April: Well, being in Texarkana gives you quite a unique opportunity. See, you can stand in both Texas and Arkansas just by moving a couple little feet.
[Drake smiles.]
Drake: Isn’t that something.
[April smiles back.]
April: Are you mocking me, Drake?
Drake: I wouldn’t think of it.
[The two lock eyes and smile for a moment.
POP!
A waiter opening another bottle of champagne for the older couple startles them.]
April: Gee, that was loud.
Drake: Isn’t that something?
[Drake looks back over at the older couple.]
Drake: These two people have been together for fifty years. That’s nearly two of me.
April: That is two of me.
Drake: I can’t even imagine what that’s like.
April: I can, two soul mates spending their entire lives together. What an amazing feeling that must be.
[Drake looks back at her.]
Drake: You wanna get outta here?
April: I told my Daddy I’d be home by midnight, Drake.
[Drake gets up and pulls his chair around the table next to hers. He sits down, grabs her hand in his and gives it a quick kiss. He looks up at her and smiles.]
Drake: I’ll have you home by 11:45.
[April bites her lip gently and smiles back at him again.]
April: Okay.
[The camera cuts to Drake and April walking down a quiet street holding hands. There are several people on the street, all walking quietly. Drake has thrown his blue blazer over the shoulders of April as they walk.]
April: So tell me something I don’t know about you.
Drake: Like what?
April: I don’t know. How about here you got that name Drake? Not very common.
Drake: It’s a family name. It was my mother’s maiden name. She was an only child and she wanted her family name to live on.
April: That’s sweet. Where are they now, your parents?
Drake: Not around anymore.
[April stops walking and turns to Drake.]
April: I’m so sorry, I had no idea-
Drake: No, it’s ok. Its’ been along time now. My mom passed when I was only a few weeks old. My dad…I was seven.
April: Do you have any brothers or sisters?
Drake: I do. I have a younger sister. She lives somewhere in Oregon now with her hippy boyfriend. I haven’t seen here in a few years.
April: Just one sister?
[Drake thinks for a moment. He thinks about his best friend, his brother Nick who passes away just over seven years ago. He thinks about how much he misses him and how great things would be if he was still around.]
Drake: Yeah. Just the one.
[They start walking again.]
April: Tell me about her.
Drake: Not much to tell. She’s two years younger than me and she’s a nutcase. Smokes alotta weed and plays guitar. Last time I spoke with her was Christmas time. She asked me for some money to fix her car and promised to pay me back before the end of January.
April: Well, she’s only a few months late.
Drake: That was Christmas 2011.
[The two share a chuckle as they come up to a quaint little row house.]
April: This is me.
Drake: So it is.
April: Thanks for such a great night, Drake.
Drake: No. Thank you. This was really refreshing.
[April takes Drake’s blue blazer off of her shoulders and hands back to him. She smiles with her eyes at him and then extends her hand toward him. Drake smiles back at her and hesitantly grabs her hand and shakes it.]
April: Goodnight, Drake. I hope we get to do this again soon.
Drake: Me too.
[Drake pulls April close to him and moves in for a kiss but she moves her head slightly to the right and away from Drake’s lips.]
Drake: What’s wrong?
April: I’m not the “Kiss on the First Date’ type of girl, Drake. I’m sorry.
Drake: No, don’t be sorry. Are you kidding me? I like that.
April: Are you sure?
Drake: Yes.
April: Ok, good. ‘Cause I can’t wait to see you again.
Drake: How about next Tuesday?
April: It’s a date!
Drake: Great. I’ll see you then.
[April slowly moves a way holding on to Drake’s hand as long as possible. She finally lets his grip slips away and she smiles as she disappears behind her front door. As he turns around he throws his blazer back on and then pulls his iPhone out of his pocket. He turns it back on to see he has 6 new voicemails. He sees that they are all from Max so he calls him back right away.
RING…
RING…
RING…
Finally Max answers.]
Max: D.
Drake: Max, what’s going on?
Max: You better come home, D.
Drake: Everything ok?
Max: You gotta see this.
Drake: Ok. I’m on my way home.
[The camera cuts out.]
July 12th 2013 12:30 am
[The camera fades back in to the exterior of Drake’s home. A black Porsche Cayenne GTS speeds up the driveway and screeches to a halt right in front of the blue stone walkway that leads to the front door. Drake gets out of the car, still in his blue blazer, and walks briskly up to the front door. As he gets the he can see Max, who is wearing a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, standing with Barry, who is wearing black jeans and boots, a black and white striped button down with an open collar, and a pink blazer. As he gets closer he can see what they’re staring at. There are words that seem like they’re painted on in red to the large double front doors.
“HE IS COMING”
As Drake gets closer Max turns around to him.]
Max: Can you believe this shit?
Barry: Some fucking, young punks.
[Drake walks up close to the door and examines the writing.]
Drake: What does it mean?
Max: I don’t know.
[Drake touches it with his fingers.]
Drake: It’s thick. Doesn’t feel like paint.
Barry: I don’t know, champ. It gives me the fucking creeps.
Drake: What do you think, Max? Kids?
Barry: Who else could it be?
Max: Could be Nick Jones. He’s known to purposely do shit to mess with people.
Drake: Yeah, but this isn’t him. Can we get this cleaned up?
Max: I already called the cleaning crew. They’ll be hear in the morning.
Barry: Thank fucking god. I thought I was gonna have to stop coming over here. Thought this place was cursed.
Drake: Yeah, right.
[Drake pulls open the front door and heads into the his home. Barry and Max follow suit. They get into the living and Drake throws his blue blazer down on the couch.]
Drake: I’ll be right back.
Barry: We still going out?
Drake: Yeah. Give me like fifteen minutes.
[Drake walks through a door on the other side of the living room and into a small office. On the back wall are several championship belts enclosed in glass cases, along with a framed “Action Packed” t-shirt and a signed copy of Slamfest Magazine with Jordan Williams on it. Across from the memorabilia wall is a chair with a small table next to it with a green screen behind it, sitting in front of a camera. On the table sits a remote control, an ash try, a lighter, and a cigarette. A small smile creeps over Drake’s face as he walks over to the chair and plops down. He picks up the stogey and sparks it up. He takes a few strong pulls and a slight sense of euphoria fills his body. His smile gets bigger as he picks up the camera’s remote control and clicks it on.]
Drake: Nick, my good friend Nick.
[Drake giggles.]
Drake: take that word for a second. Friend. What does it mean? It means trust. It means companionship. It means…oh fuck who knows. I certainly don’t any more and quite honestly I don’t know if I give a shit. There’s something about though, something that gives me a little warm fuzzy feeling inside. I rented the Wrestleclassic PPV when you beat Blade Alexander for the title. I remember watching you thinking, this guy is a real douchebag.
[Drake laughs as he takes another pull off the cigarette.]
Drake: You were the one. When I signed on that dotted line, this is the match that I wanted. Ever since that Wrestleclassic , I wanted to punch you in the face. I mean, really just smack you. I don’t want to beat you. Don’t tell Barry I said that, he’ll have a fucking heart attack. He’s angry enough this match isn’t on a PPV. He keeps going on and on about losing money. I don’t care about any of that though. I just care about one thing, Nick.
[There’s a loud knock on the door.]
Barry: Come on we’ve got a 2:30 appointment.
Drake: I’ll be right there.
[Drake turns back to the camera.]
Drake: I just want them to cheer my name. And they’ll do that Nick. They’ll do it if I drop you and they’ll do it if I lose. Do you know why? Because they love me. I’m not some sad selfish man like you. A man that needs to constantly talk about how great he is and how wonderful and amazing his accomplishments are. Because none of them matter, Nick. If the fans don’t love you then what is it for? Personal pleasure? Ego? None of that fits here, bro. So go on, make like you and be a douchebag.
[Drake gets up and clicks the camera off. He takes one last long pull of that smoke and then heads toward the living room and the camera fades out.]
July 12th 2013 2:30 am
[Barry and Drake are walking down a narrow path in what seams like woods, which is odd for the middle of Nevada. They get to what looks like a small shack, with run down shingles on blacked out windows.]
Drake: This can’t be it.
Barry: What?
Drake: You thought that graffiti on my front door was creepy and look where you’re bring me in the middle of the night.
Barry: Just trust me ok. This guy is the fucking man.
Drake: Ok.
[They step up to the door and Barry knocks three times.]
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
[A screechy female voice from inside pokes through the wooden door.]
“WHO IS IT?
Barry: It’s Barry. We’ve got the 2:30.
[The door creeks open and standing in front of them is a thirty-something year old woman with long light brown hair standing in heels, a bra, and panties. Attached to the strap of her bra is the number “7” in glitter paper. She starts to talk to them in a very monotone, cigarette influenced voice.]
Seven: Welcome to Ali’s Therapeutic Services. Ali is a very busy man and although you have an appointment for 2:30, I need to assess the importance of the situation. Please, on a scale from 1 to 10, please elaborate on the gravity of your situation.
[Barry and Drake turn to each other and shrug.]
Barry: Let’s say a six.
Drake: I was gonna say five.
Seven: Well?
Barry: Five and a half.
Seven: Right this way.
[The woman leads them down a narrow passageway into what looks like a waiting room. There is another thirty-something year old woman standing behind counter in the same uniform; heels, bra, panties. She has a number “3” pinned to her bra strap. Sitting on a bench is a young man in a plaid shirt and blue jeans. His hair is messy and his glasses have extremely thick lenses.]
Seven: Please have a seat here and wait for your name to be called.
[Drake and Barry take a seat next to the young man on the bench and watch the woman walk away. Barry turns to Drake and smiles.]
Barry: Huh? Pretty fucking awesome huh?
Drake: Barry…did you take me to a whorehouse?
Barry: No. This is Ali, man. This guys is the real fucking deal. He’s a shaman from India or Pakistan some Fucking-stan. He knows his shit.
Drake: Some fucking-stan? Really?
Barry: Look, just trust me ok? I know things like this.
Drake: Ok, Barry. I trust you. But if one of these Newport smoking housewives tries to touch my junk I’m outta here.
[Just then, the woman from behind the counter calls out for them.]
Three: Mr. Green?
[Drake stands up.]
Drake: That’s me.
Three: Ali will see you now.
[Just as Barry and Drake start to make their way into the room, the young man from the bench stands up and interrupts.]
Man: Excuse me? Excuse me?
Three: Yes sir?
Man: I….I…I had a 2:15 appointment. It’s now 2:33 and I’m still waiting. This isn’t fair. These guys just got here.
Three: Sir, we’re going to have to ask you sit back down.
Man: This isn’t fair. I demand to see Ali. I will not stand for this.
Three: Sir, if you do not sit down and relax we’re going to have to ask you to leave.
Man: But-
Three: But, nothing. These gentleman are a 5 and a half. You sir, are a 12. Now sit down.
[Drake and Barry chuckle to themselves as the young man sits back down.]
Three: My apologies, gentlemen. Please follow me.
[Drake and Barry continue to follow the woman down the narrow hallway.]
Barry: Look, champ. Ali is a very serious guy. Don’t get disappointed if he doesn’t even acknowledge that you’re in the room.
Drake: That’s cool.
Barry: Ok, good. I just don’t want you to get upset or anything.
Drake: Me?
Barry: I know, I know. Just a disclaimer.
Drake: I think I’ll be ok.
[They get to another door and she knocks three times.]
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
[The door opens to reveal yet another woman, this one blonde, wearing the same uniform; heels, bra, panties. This lady has a glittery “9” attached to her bra strap.]
Nine: Come in, please.
[She smiles intently at Drake as the two men walk in. They walk passed her and around another corner. They turn into what seems to be a room draped in black sheets. At the center of the room is a bed of pillows sitting in front of a rather large middle-eastern looking man with his eyes closed, wearing a black robe and a large gold turban. As the two men get closer he stops them.]
Ali: Who’s there?
Barry: Hey Ali, its-
Ali: Goldstein? Barry Goldstein?
Barry: Yes. Yeah it’s me.
Ali: Barry Goldstein 2004 Premature ejaculation. 2007 erectile dysfunction.
Barry: Hey-
Ali: 2009 erectile dysfunction again.
Barry: Ok-
Ali: 2011 Premature ejaculation and night terrors.
Drake: Night terrors?
Barry: My last divorce.
Drake: Ah.
[Ali opens his eyes and motions for them to come sit down.]
Ali: Tell me, Barry. What can I do for you today?
[Drake and Barry sit.]
Barry: Actually-
Ali: Mr. Showtime?
Drake: You got me.
Ali: Oh my god, my kids are never going to believe this. Nine! My camera!
[The woman walks over with a camera.]
Ali: Take a picture of me and the Showstopper.
[Ali leans in and puts his arm around Drake as she takes a picture.]
Ali: This is so exciting. Please, tell me why I have been bestowed such an honor.
Drake: Actually, I don’t know. Barry here thought it’d be a good idea for me to come here.
Ali: Barry? Please elaborate. Fill us all in.
Barry: Well since you know him so well, Champ here’s got a big match coming up. I thought maybe a little bit of your wisdom could help us out a little bit.
Ali: Ok, how can I help?
Barry: I don’t know, man. Maybe a couple of Hail Allah’s or something?
[Ali laughs.]
Ali: Barry this is not what I do here. You know that. Please, Drake. Tell me about this match. Who is it against and how can Ali help you?
Drake: Well it’s Nick Jones. And I thought maybe you can give me some guidance as far as how to focus my energy or something.
Ali: I see. Nick Jones is indeed a formidable opponent. He is also a douchebag.
Drake: I know! That’s what I was just saying a little while ago.
Ali: Up top my brother!
[Ali holds out his hand for a high five and Drake obliges.]
Ali: Ok, Drake. I may have a way to help you. Please, let us hold hands.
[All three men grab each other’s hands in a circular set up. Ali closes his eyes and he very softly starts to chant some ethnic words. After a moment his eyes open and suddenly drops both Drake’s and Barry’s hands.]
Drake: What is it?
Ali: I cannot help you.
Barry: What?
Drake: Why not?
Ali: I do not wish to discuss this any further. Nine!
[The woman walks back over.]
Drake: No wait. You gotta give me something here, Ali.
[Ali looks at Drake and pauses for what seems like an eternity.]
Ali: You are surrounded by darkness, Mr. Green.
Drake: What do you mean?
Ali: That is as much as I can say.
Drake: Bullshit.
Barry: Hey, Drake-
Drake: No. I want to hear this.
Ali: Ok, fine. There is a shroud of ugliness that surrounds you. It is not an internal darkness, Mr. Green. It is something that is coming for you. It will over power you and there is nothing you can do to stop it from happening.
Drake: What does that mean?
Ali: It means that someone, not someone near you now, but someone is coming for you Mr. Green and when he does, it may not be smart to be around.
Barry: The door…
Green: Isn’t there something I can do to stop it?
Ali: You cannot wash water and you cannot burn fire. Some things, Mr. Green, some things you just cannot change.
Green: Who is it? Is it Nick Jones?
Ali: I cannot say.
Green: What the fuck does that mean?
Ali: It means that I cannot say. Now if you will excuse me I have another appointment waiting.
Green: This is bullshit.
[Drake and Barry get up and walk toward the door. Just before they leave, Drake turns around and walks back toward Ali.]
Drake: You know what?
[Drake picks up Ali’s camera and throws it on the ground and then stomps on it, breaking it to tiny little pieces.]
Drake: There. There’s something dark for you.
[Drake storms passed Barry and out of the room as the camera fades to black.]
July 13th 2013 4:00 pm
[The camera fades into a dressing room. Drake Green is pacing back and forth in front of the vanity and the small sofa. He is wearing a light gray suit, brown shoes, and an open collar lavender shirt. Max is sitting on the couch, wearing a black suit and a white shirt with a black tie. He looks up at Drake who is nervously pacing back and forth.]
Max: You ok, D?
Drake: Yeah, I’m fine.
Max: You’re not still bugged out by that whole shaman thing are you?
Drake: …
Max: I fucking told Barry not to being you there. It was only gonna fuck with your head.
Drake: It’s not that.
Max: What is it?
Drake: It’s everything. Its; the graffiti, the weird letters that Barry keeps getting that are addressed to me, the hang ups I get at the house. And the weirdest part, I keep feeling like there is someone watching my when I’m sleeping.
Max: This guy really got you, D. Maybe we should cancel the match with Nick Jones.
Drake: What? No way. You know how many people bought tickets to see me? I couldn’t do that to them. What time is this thing anyway?
Max: I don’t know. Barry said four o’clock so it should be soon.
[Just then there’s a loud knock at the door. Drake walks over and answers it and there is young man wearing a headset, a polo shirt, and khaki shorts.]
Man: They’re ready for you, Mr. Green.
Drake: Ok, I’ll be right out.
Man: Sure thing.
[The young man shuts the door.]
Drake: How do I look?
Max: Like a champion.
Drake: Ok, good. I’ll see you out there.
[Drake opens the door up and sees the young man with the headset. He follows him through the hallways, up a small set of stairs and then onto a stage where there is a place for him to sit in front of a crowd for a press junket. Standing in front of the table is a heavyset woman with short dark hair. She comes the reporters down.]
Woman: Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I’m sure you all know who this is. You’ll have 30 minutes to ask all of your questions. Will begin with Trisha Geer.
Reporter 1: Drake, how confident are you feeling coming in to this match with Nick Jones.
Drake: Pretty confident, Trisha. I always try to approach every match the same. I just prepare mentally and physically and try to make sure I’m at my best on Wrestleday.
Reporter 2: Are any at all intimidated by Nick Jones?
Drake: No. Not at all. Look, I’m not gonna sit up here and say Nick Jones sucks ‘cause it just isn’t gonna happen. The dude is tough, Tougher than most people I know but that’s not what makes him as good as he is. Its’ the trash talking. He gets in your head and he doesn’t leave until he knows he has you beat.
Reporter 3: Do you think you’re gonna win.
Drake: I try not to play those guessing games, Miss. It rarely turns out ways you would suspect it. My focus on Sunday night is to put on a show. Because hey, I am the Greatest Show on Earth and that’s what the fans pay to see. I’m gonna make sure they get a match that they’ll never forget.
Reporter 2: So what is your overall opinion of the man?
Drake: He’s a d-
[Drake stops himself from using curse words in front of children.]
Drake: He’s at the forefront of the SCW title picture and he should be. He’s the company’s top guy and he’s got a Man of The Year award too. Not to mention all of that and more but he’s the only two-time SCW Heavyweight Champion. Which means if I beat him I’m likely in the Simon Jones category.
Reporter 1: So do you see yourself in the SCW Main Event going forward if you do in fact beat Nick Jones at Climax Control on Sunday?
Drake: I think we’ll see that either way. The truth is the people love me. I’m there guy. So even if I lose, they still want me in the main event, so that’s where I’ll be. I’d love to sit here and chat but I got a trainer that’s really up my ass. Don’t forget to catch Climax Control live on Sunday.
[Drake gets up and walks out of the pressroom as reporters try to sneak in more questions. He walks through the door to the backstage area and the camera fades out.]
