“There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception.” ― Aldous Huxley
The return of Oblivion
The Game
Oblivion Garage
/Scene Opens\
[off-camera]
[10:00 PM]
Did you know that for some people, the smell of oils and fluids was an aphrodisiac? For gearheads it is, not so much for people that don’t work with their hands. For me, when I walk into this garage that is what I smell and it’s that odor that makes me happy. Maybe because it’s that, and there is a hint of cinnamon in the background. It’s that cinnamon smell that lets me know that Amber has been here recently. This garage was something that Amber and myself had built with our own hands. Sure, the building was already here, she had bought it for me and we love it here. Everyone has their escape mechanism, whether it be video games, books, television, movies or whatever you might think of. This was ours. One of the places we truly enjoy, away from wrestling and the constant grind. A break from training, even though as a couple, you couldn’t get much bigger than what we had in front of us. A pair of matches that could cement our legacy in the history of Sin City Wrestling. That in itself weighed on more as much if not more than anything right now, for me and I could tell on her as well.
I was in the office, going through invoices and various other paperwork that needed mine and Amber’s attention. I really couldn’t focus on that right now though. My mind just kept going back to the phone calls and text messages that Amber was avoiding. “Must be a real scumbag if she’s avoiding that person like this.” It did beg the question though, exactly who was this Delgado guy? The first thing that popped into my head was the East Coast Mafia but it didn't seem realistic. I knew that the life of a Carnie was tough and keeping an operation like that going was expensive. Was this guy a loan shark from back in the day? Did Grizz still owe him money? She was the only one that might be able to answer that question and she didn’t want to discuss it, so I’d leave it alone for now. I wouldn’t pursue it unless it became a problem for us as a couple or if it messed with the Garage or our careers. Then I would deal with Mr. Delgado in my own way. Of course, that could also make things worse. There were only a few situations that could be called anything close to resolved where violence was concerned. Away from a wrestling ring that is.
The other thing that invaded my thoughts tonight was that the old man, Mr. Mixon wanted to buy our property. Amber was good with it, the kids were good with it. Then why was I so hesitant about selling it to him. There was something there that just didn’t add up, I had ordered another mineral survey of my land. There hadn’t been one done since I first bought the place some twenty five years ago. That wasn’t going to arrive today though. So I had nothing but time. Time to think about it though, that also meant time for me to worry about what Thomas Mixon was up to. I mean, did it really matter? At the end of the day, him owning that land, why would I care?
A crash from one of the bays broke me out of my train of thought and I was on my feet in an instant. My hand immediately went to the small of my back where my Smith and Wesson M&P forty-five rested in it’s holster. I made my way out into the bays with my hand still on my pistol. “Whoever you are, I am armed and you are trespassing.”, I said in a loud and firm voice. A black cat ran out from under an engine stand. I followed her with my eyes and she went to a partially open door. The door was our storage for parts and other supplies like paper towels for the bathrooms. I eased my hand off of my pistol and made my way to the room where the cat had disappeared to. Turning on the lights for the storage room I looked around and didn’t see anything. I heard something though, the cries of kittens. I looked up on one of the shelves and saw the momma cat trying to hide. I exhaled a sigh of relief and looked at her, “It’s okay girl, you’re fine for now.”
I happened to spot a small dish near the shelving unit and smiled. “Either Amber or one of the boys decided you could stay.” The hum of a small electric device caught my attention now. I looked around and saw an old burlap sack trying to hide a small refrigerator. I smirked and pulled it off. Opening the fridge I found some small cartons of milk and resting on top of that was a collection of canned cat food. I shook my head in dismay at my own softness these days. “Yep, Red is rubbing off on me for sure.”, I said as I opened a can of catfood and dumped its contents into a bowl that was obviously left there for the cats. The smaller bowl that sat beside received part of the carton of milk that was in the door. I looked up and the momma cat and her kittens were huddled around the bowl eating and purring. “What’s seven more mouths to feed?” I said to myself, amused at the situation.
My mind went back to Thomas Mixon, my only memories of him were from childhood. I remembered heated shouting matches between him and my father. It had gotten so bad that our family was banned from his stores. On one occasion I remember the police being called, it was so bad in fact that both he and my father were arrested for disturbing the peace. The vibration in my front pocket notified me that I had a call coming in. I looked at the time and it was after ten. The caller i.d. said that the caller was anonymous but the number was definitely from the Port Arthur area. I let it go to voicemail, “Probably wanting me to extend the warranty on my truck or something.” I mused to myself. The vibration again, notifying me of a voicemail. I had visual voicemail so I looked at it. “I’ll be damned, it’s like I summoned him.”, I stared at the message like someone who had been struck dumb all of a sudden.
“Mr. Bane,
This is Thomas Mixon the third. I am calling you in regards to the offer made on your property, I know this cannot be an easy decision to make. If you would be so kind as to call me back tomorrow, I’d like to discuss it. Maybe I can help with some of the questions you must have.”
I clamp my mouth shut and allow my breathing to return to normal. I had no idea that my breathing had escalated to the point of nearly hyper-ventilating myself. Could the old man read my mind or something? I shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. “What in the actual fuck….”, I say to myself, obviously since no one else is around right now. I look back down at my phone again and sigh. “Only one way to do this and that’s in person.” I say to myself. I sent him a text message letting him know I would reach out once I was in town.
“Mr. Mixon,
I will reach out once I am in town so we can discuss this. It’ll be a couple of days from now.”
I didn’t wait for a response, I would check my phone later to see if he received the message. I went back to the office to lock up, knowing that there was no way I could focus on paperwork for the shop. I would go home, get some sleep and hopefully get some perspective tomorrow.
Fade
The Game ctd...
Bane’s Home - Las Vegas, NV
/Scene Opens\
[off-camera]
[6:00 AM the next day...]
I remember waking because the morning sun crept under my eyelids, might I add it was unwelcomed. “Fine, asshole, I’m awake now.” I said to the sun. “Day star bad.”, I mumbled as I stumbled my way to the kitchen. That first sip of coffee, “God damn, that kisses the soul” I said in my half asleep state. I sat down on the couch, sitting my cup on the side table. I looked down at the scrap book that had belonged to my mother. I had always thought it a cheesy thing to do with old photos and letters. Perhaps there were some clues in there I thought to myself. “Well, let’s take a look. Worst case scenario is that I find nothing at all.” I said flatly, I honestly didn’t believe there was anything in there to find. I untied the ribbon and opened the binder up. I heard metal on wood as a small object clattered across the coffee table. I picked it up and it looked like a promise ring. I hadn’t seen one of those in a long time.
Investigating the front of the binder, I found a hidden panel of sorts. It was a pocket really, made from paper. Inside that pocket was a letter.
“My Dearest Emily” I began to read, Emily was my mother’s name.
“I hope you will accept this token of my affection and a promise for better things in the future. I wish I could be there to give this to you myself but family business continues to drag me to New York. The boring part of the family business, the board meetings on top of investor meetings. I love you more than anything in this world.
Love Always,
Tom”
I felt my jaw sag open, and shook my head to try and clear the cobwebs. I don’t know how long I sat there staring at the letter but when I realized someone else was there, I looked up to see my daughter Julie. “Compelling stuff, huh?” she quipped at me as she sat on the arm of the couch. I nodded my head and put both the ring and the letter back in the place they fell from. “It seems I’ve learned something new about my own mother today.” I said back to her. Julez smiled that smile that let me know that she already knew about this. It dawned on me that this was likely the reason she had spent so much time going through these old scrapbooks. I had to ask, “Did you find anything else out from these?” I said pointing at the book in front of me. She smiled and shook her head indicating that she had not. “No, the rest of what I know came directly from grams.” She said after only a short pause.
“So, why did you never tell me about any of this?”, I asked her bluntly. She smiled again and then said, “Because grams asked me not to, not as long as her and grandpa were still alive.” I nodded my understanding, “Probably better that way. I need you to move Julez, you’re in the way of me and my coffee.”, I said with a smile. She got the hint immediately and moved to the other side of the couch. She crawled up in the corner and sat cross legged so she could face me as she talked. “She and I would talk about her school days as she liked to call them for literally hours.” She started saying. I motioned for her to go on. “She told me that she had been in love with Tommy, as she liked to call him, since elementary school. He had been her steady boyfriend from fourth grade all the way through high school.”
She didn’t pause but went on into the retelling of my mother’s story. “She was nineteen when she met grandpa, he was smitten with her from the first time they met. Soon he was showering her with gifts, trying to win her affection. The problem was she was promised to Tom Mixon and rebuffed all of grandpa’s advances.”, she pauses there, to breath and focus on her recollection of the story. “On one of the many trips that Tom made to New York that summer, grandpa would come calling and they did eventually go out on a date of sorts. She would later tell me that it wasn’t really supposed to be a date but a night out amongst friends.”
She hesitates, swallows hard but continues. “On that night out with friends, she uh...she doesn’t remember all of it she told me. She had woken up naked in grandpa's car, barely covered with one of his jackets.” She pauses there as she sees my face darken. “She swore that he hadn’t done anything, I see you’re thinking what I was the first time she told me this story. She doesn’t believe that he would drug her. He told her that nothing happened between them. That he simply grabbed her off a table top and covered her up when she started stripping out of her clothes.” She could tell by my reaction and the look on my face that I didn’t believe a word of it. “That son of a bitch.”, I said flatly. She nodded, “He let it be known that they were a thing after that, it ruined her reputation and the Mixon’s forbade Tom from seeing her anymore.” She said finally.
I felt the sigh escape my lips, “No wonder he harbors so much hatred for this family.”, I said quietly. She nodded and hugged my neck. “It’s not the only reason, but yes, that’s where it started.”
Fade
Perspective
Bane Home
/Scene Opens\
[on-camera]
[7:00 AM]
The air in vegas had a weight to it this morning, if I was in Texas this feeling would be normal, it’s called humidity. For Vegas though, it wasn’t humid at all. The weight was likely imagined as I got ready for one of the biggest matches of my career to this point in Sin City Wrestling. The camera was already recording as I made my way out onto the decking. The boards creaked in complaint as I stepped across them. I looked around the backyard of our home and smiled.
When you build something with your own two hands, that’s a matter of pride and accomplishment. When Amber and I moved into this house, there was nothing back here. The deck, and everything else, we built with our own hands. I’ve taken such pride watching her as the Bombshell Champion in Sin City. It’s almost as if that division was built around her to compliment her skills. She has been a dominant champion to say the least. She has put that division and you could even argue that she’s put this company on her back and carried the load as only she can.
I smirk, knowing that not everyone would agree with that statement and it would likely piss off some of the boys around here. The simple and quick answer is I don’t care.
Truth, like a lot of things in this life is painful. There’s not a man on this roster that wants to hear about the women carrying this company. That, however, is the truth whether anyone likes it or not. Does it hurt their fragile egos? I don’t know, you’d have to ask them. Over the years since I’ve known Myra, I’ve seen a great many things from her. It’s the things that she says that resonates with me the most. She clings to the past and wears it like a badge of honor. The slights she suffered in other places, real or imagined are not important. See, perspective is a person's reality. In her mind, she suffered because of another group of people. She never achieved that goal of being a world champion there because of them. That is her perspective, so therefore it’s her reality. When you’re talking about perspective, that’s all that matters. It’s what she believes to be true, whether it’s factual or not is another story altogether.
I shake my head at the memory of her spouting off about a glass ceiling in another company, instead of owning her own shortcomings and flaws.
All that being said, she was a good tag partner during The Blast From The Past tournament. We functioned well as a team, but we are not a team in this match. This match is to determine which match will be the main event. Whether it’s the men’s or the women's world title match that will be showcased. Which division will deserve the most attention from the company and the fanbase. Look at Myra, she’s done things that no one expected. Look at her track record. She’s held the Internet Title longer than any other title holder in the company. She has shattered the old record for days and defenses of the internet title. She’s one of the few women in this company that holds a pinfall victory over my wife. So don’t mistake my words Myra, I do respect your ability. I just don’t like your chances.
I smile ever so slightly at the camera as I continue.
You know what this match won’t be about? Which match will draw the most money. Which conflict will be more compelling. Myra chasing a world championship in a winner take all scenario, or yours truly doing the same thing. Due to the way this was set up, those are things that simply won’t matter. They matter to us individually, but that’s a close up personal view of the title situations in this company. The thousand foot view though, the blast from the past drama will certainly help draw people in. That is as important as any of the rest of it, as far as the owners and the investors are concerned. I should say, from a business perspective. There’s that word again….Perspective.
I wink at the camera and continue.
Perspective and how to each person, that is their truth. I would say that a person's truth can be somewhat jaded or shaded in one direction or another. Take the members of the Wolf’s Lair for example. They recently put Sin City on notice that they were taking over. While I’m certain that they intended that for the most positive way possible. I’d say that their truth and the rest of ours may differ a bit.
I smile a sad smile and nod at the camera remembering my own thoughts on disastrous runs with world championships elsewhere.
Alex Jones is not the only one who has had disastrous world title runs. I mean, because it didn’t happen here I’m sure he doesn’t see it as relevant. My first run as a world champion was pretty bad. Way back in time, there was a company called UCWA that was run by someone who at the time I considered a friend. I won that title from someone who I admired and respected a great deal. That title went to my head and inflated my ego in such a way that I alienated a number of people who were near and dear to me personally. So, I get it, we all have these things in our past. If you let it affect your present, that’s a different story altogether. If you do, it fucks with your future as well.
Spreading my hands to emphasize that it is all encompassing. I then bring them back in front of me and clasping my hands together, I look back up at the camera.
This final show before the big cruise though. This is my focus. My wife and I have fought each other more times than we’ve tagged together. Make no mistake about this, we are as cohesive a team as you will ever face. Mark, I know you are a very accomplished talent in your own right. You are the Sin City Champion. The man who represents the Men’s roster, to the chagrin of some and the amusement of others. You’ve accomplished many great things in your time with the company. This match however, will be quite different. This is not Blast from the Past where you can get by with a so-so partner and come out on top. This match will decide which match is the main event for the super card. This match will determine momentum, and which side will be considered underdogs going into it.
I shake my head in disagreement and frown at the camera.
Son, let me tell you something. Those days are over.
Fade
