August 26th, 2013 8:45 am
[The camera fades in to a large bedroom. As it starts to pan all around the brightly lit room a loud buzzing sound is heard in the background.
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
It moves over the expensive oak furniture and the tall, half drunken glass water that sits on top of it. It zooms passed the long easel mirror and the rich mahogany door.
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
It comes to a small, wooden, dressing chair and the wrinkled suit jacket that is thrown on top of it. It moves across the room to the large, king-sized bed with the wood and leather headboard and the deep, black silk sheets.
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
It zooms out to see man sleeping under the covers. He starts to move around and a muffled groan shoots out from underneath the silk sheet.
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
He throws over the sheet to reveal his messy dark hair and the three stitches above his left eye. He lays there shirtless, with a nautical star tattooed on each shoulder and the male symbol permanently etched into the inside of his forearm. He reveals his familiar bright green eyes. He reveals himself. Drake Green.
BUZZ BUZZ WHAAAAACCCCKKKK!
He slams his hand down on the alarm sitting on the small table next to him. He sits up in bed and stretches out his muscular arms and then reaches for the sky. He pulls them in and begins to rub his eyes but he is stopped immediately from the pain as he remembers about the deep cut above his eye. He pushes off the remainder of the covers and brings his legs out to the side of the bed and they touch the floor. He stretches his arms one more time and then begins to stand up. He is wearing Nike gyms shorts and black socks that go about halfway up his calves. He starts to walk slowly toward the dresser and the glass of water, but it seems to be noticeably uncomfortable to do so. He finally gets to the dresser and grabs the glass of water. He pulls it up to his lips and a small smile cracks on his face as the cool liquid touches his dry lips and throat. He drinks the whole glass and then puts it back down on the dresser as he makes his way downstairs.
As he gets down to the kitchen he sees Max, wearing a bright blue ‘MAN OF THE PEOPLE’ t-shirt and white Bermuda shorts with flip-flops. He is sitting on a stool at the center island, drinking a coffee and reading the newspaper. He peers up from the paper as Drake walks in and then sets it down on the counter, waiting for Drake to say something.]
Drake: What?
Max: How are you doing?
Drake: I’m fine.
Max: You sure?
Drake: Yeah, I’m good.
[Max notices as he limps over to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of Tropicana, opens it, and downs some juice before returning the bottle to the fridge. He hobbles over to the island where Max is sitting and plops down on a stool next across from him. He grabs Max’s cigarette pack and pulls one out. He lights it and then takes a long pull, exhaling slowly.]
Max: You know, you shouldn’t be smoking.
[Drake gives him a long, hard stare.]
Max: How are you dealing with all of this?
Drake: Maxy, I’m fine. Ok? I’m just looking forward to relaxing for a bit. I thought maybe we’d take a trip. Maybe Mexico for a couple weeks. What do you say?
Max: I wish we could.
Drake: Why can’t we?
Max: I got the call from Barry this morning. We’re booked on Climax Control.
Drake: Mother fucker! You would think after the last two weeks that I’ve had, they would be considerate enough to give me one damn week off.
Max: I was kind of surprised myself, D. But not as surprised as I was when Barry told who were booked with.
Drake: Who?
Max: You’re not gonna like it.
Drake: Just tell me.
Max: Casey Williams.
[Drake stares blankly at Max for a second before letting out a wicked looking smile.]
Drake: You’ve got to be kidding me.
Max: Why are you smiling?
Drake: Why? Because this is the best news I’ve gotten in a while. That’s why.
[A look of shock creeps over Max’s face.]
Max: We’re talking about the same Casey Williams, right? The beast that nearly squashed Ben Jordan last night? The guy that could pick you up and toss you into the fifth row if he wanted to? That Casey Williams?
Drake: Yes, Maxy. That Casey Williams.
Max: And why exactly are you smiling about this? What seems to be the happy part about this?
Drake: Are you kidding? After what his crew and that piece of shit J.J. Dixon did to me last night? This is payback, Maxy. They fired me in ACW, remember? They embarrassed me in front of all of my fans, Maxy. I start with Casey. Then I finish with Dixon.
[Drake turns to walk toward the living room but stops himself after a few steps. He shuts his eyes and tries to bear the pain that his body in. He tries to hide it inside and keep it from Max, but he isn’t fooling anyone.]
Max: Yeah, you’re gonna beat down Casey Williams, huh? You can’t even make it to the couch, can you?
Drake: I can make it just fine.
[Drake starts off again, this time pushing all the way to the sectional sofa in the grand living room. He plops himself on the couch and sets him right leg up on the coffee table. He leans his head back toward the ceiling and stairs and the large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He closes his eyes for a bit before being interrupted by Max who just walked in.]
Max: I’m worried about ya, D. You haven’t been yourself lately.
Drake: I’m fine.
Max: Ok, D. Its’ just…if you get in to the ring with a guy like that….and you’re hurt like you are…it could be bad.
[Drake turns to Max who is still standing in the hallway, facing in toward the living room.]
Drake: I appreciate your concern, Max. I really do. I mean that. You’re the only family I really have anymore, save for that crazy sister of mine, and I need you. But I also need this match. I need to choke the ever living shit out of that overgrown three hundred pound piece of trash. It needs to start somewhere.
Max: I’m not your boss, D. All I can do it offer you my advice. But I understand how you feel. I’m with you if you need me.
Drake: You know I do.
Max: Ok. Let’s take at least a couple days off.
Drake: At least.
[They smile at each other as Max leaves the room and Drake goes back to staring at the giant chandelier. He takes a few deep breaths and tries to stomach the pain of his cracked ribs. The camera fades out as Drake shuts his eyes.]
August 30th, 2013 7:45 pm
[The camera fades back in to Drake, sitting in his chair in front of the camera. He is wearing a black Adidas track suit and cross trainer sneakers on. His hair is dark and spikey as always and his face is as unshaven as it has been in a while. Gone are the stitches above his eye, replaced by just a winged Band-Aid. Drake stares intensely at the camera for a moment before picking up the small remote and clicking it on.]
Drake: Casey Williams. The Freight Train of Pain. I guess before a week ago I didn’t have much of an opinion of you at all. You’re the typical big guy in professional wrestling. Not much to really say. Not that you aren’t a bit impressive. Your strength is all but unmatched, at least in Sin City or All-Pro. I guess I can say you’re somewhat of a scary dude.
[Drake smiles.]
Drake: I was really confused as to why you decided to join up with Dixon. At first I thought, yeah Casey is kind of a dick but he’s not that low is he. But then I realized what it was. Gold.
[Drake looks over his shoulder to the his desk where an empty glass display case sits. The glass display case that used to hold his Maritime Championship.]
Drake: Gold can do a lot of things to a lot of guys, Casey. It can change them, transform them. Make them in to something that at heart they truly are not. I know. I’ve seen it and lived it. I’m on a quest for gold right now myself. But with you, with you there is something more to it. I don’t think it was just all gold. Sure that was a good part of it but it was more to it. I figured you out though, Casey. You are a much simpler man than the rest of us. That’s not an insult by the way. It’s a little bit of a compliment actually.
[Drake lights up a cigarette.]
Drake: You like to hurt people. Really hurt people. You get off on it. And the thought of pairing and aligning yourself with J.J. Dixon was the opportunity to give you all that you love. To be the first All-Pro Championship Wrestling World Champion and to really put a hurt on whoever got in your way, without and repercussions. Well guess what, big guy. You lost. You’re not champion of anything. And to add insult to injury, it was you who got beat. You who were bloody and battered.
[He takes a drag.]
Drake: So what did aligning yourself with the most disgusting, conniving, snake of a human in the world of professional wrestling get you, Casey? Nothing. You’re in the same spot you were before. Except this time a little worse for wear. You’re beaten and bit broken. I can see that in you. Sure, I’ve got my ass kicked around the ring the passed few weeks and I’ certainly not one hundred percent. But the beautiful thing about that Casey is that I don’t need to be. I don’t even need to be seventy five percent with you.
[He takes another drag.]
Drake: I’m actually that much better than you, Casey. Yeah I know I just lost my Maritime title to that freak of a human Lukas. And I know I just lost my first chance at the SCW Heavyweight title. The difference between you and I Casey is that those title shots are going to keep on coming. Because I make a difference. People pay money to see Mr. Showtime. I bring the asses to the seats. What do you do? Oh yeah, you suck J.J. Dixon’s ass all the way to the loss column. So say what you will. I invite it. There’s only one possible outcome for our match. On Sunday, my quest for revenge begins. I promise to all who will listen, I will make Dixon pay. Unfortunately for you, Casey. You come first.
[He puts his cigarette out.]
Drake: Don’t worry though, Casey. You’re not my only goal here on Climax Control. I have another one. Now that I’ve shredded myself of some other gold, it’s time to look on to the next. Soon I’ll have what’s coming to me. A real shot at Kevin Carter’s gold. Not some bullshit match with tons of people in it. A real one on one match where Kevin knows he can’t beat me. If he wonders why the good people of high seas booed him that night, it’s because they only wanted one person walking off that ship with the SCW Heavyweight title. And it sure wasn’t his old ass.
[Drake leans forward.]
Drake: Anyway, first thing is first. I’ll put you out quick. It would be quite the story to make the Freight Train tap. See you soon, Casey. Rest up. You’re gonna need it.
[The camera cuts out as Drake hits the power button on the remote control.]
